Chapter One
One, two, Foster's Coming for you...
"I know you think that fear is the reason you push people away, Naomi, and why you feel so vulnerable when anyone starts to get close to you. But you'll have to dig deeper to understand what's behind that fear. When you do that, when you let yourself feel the pain of your past, and see how it's affecting your present, then and only then will you be able to stop hurting the people you love."
Naomi came into awareness having no idea where she was or how she got there. She looked around, trying to find the source of the maddeningly calm voice that was spouting off some ridiculous psycho-babble. She was slumped in a chair and sat before a large mahogany desk. Was she in an office? There were no windows, and the only source of light was the banker-style desk lamp. She shook herself, trying to clear her fogged brain, in effort to get her bearings.
"Tell me, Naomi, how old were you when your mother started bringing strangers into your home; when she decided to sacrifice your safety to the selfish whims of her need to 'save the world'?"
"What?" Naomi sat up, looking around desperately for the person who was speaking – the person that was trying to get in her head. "Where the fuck am I? Who's there? Show yourself you tosser!"
When her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Naomi was able to read the framed diploma hanging on the wall behind the desk: Mr. J. T. Foster Clinical Psychiatrist. And suddenly he was standing beside her.
"Oh my god! That's not possible! You're fucking dead! This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening!" Naomi tried to get up from the chair, but found herself tightly bound in a straight jacket, unable to move. Her heart began thumping erratically in her chest, as her eyes wildly scanned the room, looking for some method of escape.
"Shhhhhh. Relax, Naomi, you're safe here. I only want to help you; help you not to be afraid." He reached out to stroke Naomi's hair. "Yes, with my help, I think you'll become something that I'm proud of. You and all of Elizabeth's friends..."
As Naomi looked into John Foster's eyes, she knew she was seeing the soul of a madman. And that madman was now fixated on her - trying to get into her head. Like he did with Effy... That's when Naomi started to scream.
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"Naomi! Wake up! Wake up!!" Emily was frantic. She awoke to the sound of her girlfriend letting out a blood chilling scream, thrashing about with her arms pinned tightly to her chest. Emily pushed Naomi's shoulders into the mattress, trying to wake and restrain her at the same time. "Naomi! C'mon! WAKE UP!"
And Naomi's eyes finally popped open, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "Em...?" Her voice was barely there.
"Jesus, Naomi – you scared the shit out of me!" Emily let up on Naomi's shoulders, then settled her head on Naomi's chest.
"Nai, your heart's beating like a million miles an hour...are you OK? Were you having some kind of nightmare?"
Naomi reached a shaking hand to her night table to grab the glass of water she put there each evening. Taking a long drink to buy herself some time, she considered what to tell Emily.
"Yeah, I guess it was a nightmare. I can barely remember what it was about, though. I'm sorry I woke you." Naomi rubbed at her face, trying to distance herself more fully from the memory of her dream.
"Well, it must have been pretty intense. You sounded absolutely terrified."
Naomi cringed at the thought of how much the 'Dr. Foster' of her dream had terrified her. The thought of someone like that trying to get in her head left her feeling incredibly shaken and vulnerable. Emily, misinterpreting Naomi's cringe as embarrassment, tried to reassure her by rubbing her back.
"It's nothing to feel weird about, babe. We all have nightmares at some time or other. And considering everything that's happened recently, I'm not the least bit surprised."
In the past two weeks they had all suffered so much. They thought that Freddie had gone missing, only to find out that he'd been murdered by Effy's psychiatrist. It was Cook who made the discovery. And it was Cook who avenged his friend's murder by confronting the bat-wielding madman head-on. While Cook was victorious in his battle with John Foster, and had made him pay with his life, Cook did not escape unscathed. He presently lay comatose in Frenchay Hospital, having suffered a traumatic head injury during the fight. The doctors were unable to determine when or if he would awaken from the coma, and couldn't establish if he would suffer any permanent brain damage. The very thought that Cook could wake up less than the irrepressible 'lad' they loved was beyond comprehension.
When the truth came out about Foster's role in Freddie's death, Effy became virtually catatonic. Anthea wouldn't allow her to enter another psychiatric care facility, so instead hired a nurse to look after her at home. Emily, Katie, Naomi, Panda, Thomas, JJ and Karen did a good job of maintaining regular visitations of both Cook and Effy, making sure there was always a friendly face – or voice – on hand to offer words of encouragement, and talk about a future when the group would again have reason to celebrate life. Even though their presence was never acknowledged by either patient, they all felt driven to maintain the group's connection, however futile their efforts might seem.
Now, just days after burying Freddie, Emily assumed that Naomi (or her subconscious) was perhaps succumbing to the fallout of the tragic and gruesome events. Frankly, Emily was surprised that they all weren't having nightmares at this point. She was pulled from her musings when Naomi moved to get out of bed.
"Where are you going?"
Naomi put on her robe without meeting Emily's eyes.
"I'm, uh, too keyed up to go back to sleep, so maybe I'll go downstairs and read for a bit."
"Nai, it's 3AM, come back to bed. I'm sure you'll fall asleep eventually. And if not, I'm sure we can find other ways to occupy your time..."
"As tempting an offer as that is, Ems, and believe me, it is very fucking tempting, you need to get a good night's rest. You have that job interview tomorrow morning, and I don't want you sleeping through it. OK?"
Emily's instincts were telling her that something was off with Naomi's reaction, and she really wanted to coax her to open up about it. But the truth was she did need to get up early for that interview. It was for a job at their local library, which she really wanted. It paid a decent wage, and would enable Emily to research travel destinations during her down time. She and Naomi had to forego their trip to Goa with everything that happened, but they were still considering taking a gap year.
"OK, Naoms. Don't stay up too late."
Naomi leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Emily's forehead, then turned out the bedside light and moved towards the door. Looking back before exiting the room, she offered a reassuring smile to Emily.
"I won't. Sweet dreams, Emily."