Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics or the characters.
A/N: This is Derek's line of thought. I am not sure if it needs explaining or not. Enjoy and please review me! Xyli
Emily Haines - Sprig
Fresh when sleeping meant every other night
Falling asleep for the fifth time
Early in the morning
Awake in terror, words staring back at him, never to be used
Their hands on hold
So quiet, they could hear each other's thinking, denying
Garner interest, each other's thinking, denying
He is shifting silently as he tugs violently on the soft, white, down comforter they never used to need. He smiles at the memory because the heat radiating through their tightly wound bodies used to keep them warm enough when the fall air started to creep in.
He hears her murmur something and tug the heavy blanket back towards her side of the bed. He can't help but pause because if this had been a few years earlier he simply would have scooted over and relished in holding her tight to stay warm. Now, he doesn't know if he would be hit for touching his wife's slender curves unexpectedly. Sleepless nights like this are why he rarely comes home anymore. In an on-call room he has nothing to share with anyone, and the fact that he enjoys it a little more every day is something that is beginning to frighten him.
He tosses vehemently from one side to another and finally settles upon his stomach. He can feel her eyes burning a whole into his exhausted skull so he flips around again and heavily sighs waiting for an explanation. They don't have one. They have no idea when things started crashing around them, and they certainly do not have a game plan on how to fix it. His has one single solitary plan and it is to deny, deny, deny. He has a feeling her plan doesn't follow that route but he has definitely noticed that she has long since given up on nagging him about never being around. She would never guess it but his mind is racing, and the only way he can stop thinking about everything that is atrociously wrong in their lives is to work. It is a simple, albeit a brutal, remedy.
He flips back around and lets out a slow moan while pinching his eyelids shut. It hurts, but this "thing" he has going with his wife is more painful then anything he can inflict upon himself. He wants to go back to when they were happily married, but it has been so dreadful for so long he is actually beginning to question if that time ever existed. He finds himself lingering over pictures in his wallet when he is locked in an on-call room and wondering where that happy couple went.
She will leave him, he is damn sure of that. Maybe not right now, not tonight, but eventually she will get to a point to where even her patient and endearing side will break. He doesn't want it and it will in fact shatter him when it happens. But he can't change it. He hates that he will be the one to break her.
He hears her sit up yawning, and he is squinting to see the gleaming red numbers that mock him with their never failing presence in his bedroom. He knows that she has laid back down and is facing him; he can feel her breath on his unclothed cool skin. She is waiting. Waiting for him to him to make a move for she is only inches from his face, and he takes in her scent before making a decision. He inhales deeply and pretends to be asleep. He can't, he just can't. It was his only choice. He wishes it wasn't that effortless to disown her. He knows that she is still there, heartbroken, vulnerable, and terrified of her own husband.
There will be no sleep for him tonight. But from what he gathers from her demeanor as of late, not a whole lot of sleeping gets done in this once love occupied bed anyway.