Laurie's nightmares are frequent, violent, and detailed. She can barely close her eyes for a minute before she starts having flashbacks, let alone actually lie down and sleep for eight hours straight. But living with Annie means having somebody there to wake her up when her thrashing gets too bad and comfort her once she's coherent.
Annie has nightmares, too, but they don't cause her to scream and get physical like Laurie's do. Her nightmares are just hours of that awful anxious feeling that filled her up when Laurie and Michael were in the house while she was on the floor. Pure terror like that can't be pushed away and forgotten, so it makes an appearance every night.
While Laurie wakes up screaming, Annie wakes up with wet eyes and a weight on her chest.
They know it's codependent, Laurie's therapist makes this clear, but they can't stop sleeping in the same bed. Laurie refuses sleeping pills, choosing instead to only sleep when Annie is nearby. Annie is the only one who knows how to wake her up from her nightmares; she's also the only person capable of dealing with the aftermath. And if Laurie's honest, Annie is the only person she wants seeing her in that state.
But one night, in the winter following the attacks, Annie can't wake her up with a simple shake of her shoulder and a "Laurie, it's okay. Come back to me."
She's holding Laurie fully in her arms, repeating the blonde's name, but Laurie keeps screaming. Her hands and elbows have connected with Annie once or twice, but she hasn't even noticed.
It's been five minutes and Annie is at a point where she's barely making sense, but she couldn't care less. She's pleading with Laurie to wake up, even though the girl has no control over what's happening, and gasping for breath between the pleases. She's never had that anxious terror come back while she's been awake, but here it is.
Just when the chest pain starts to kick in, Laurie opens her eyes.
"Laurie!"
"Baby?"
Laurie gets a prescription the following day.
In school, they spent most of their time with each other, but they had other friends. They both had Lynda. And Annie had Paul. But now Lynda and Paul are dead, and their other friends don't know how to talk to them. That doesn't stop the rest of the school, and the town, from talking about them, however, so they make the joint decision to finish their senior year through a distance program.
When they're not being roommates ("Can you vacuum today?"); best friends ("Don't be a dick, Annie, pass me the remote"); or confidants ("I just want to stop feeling like this. Will it ever stop?"), they're each other's only classmates. They do "group" projects, study together, and Annie may or may not have cheated (with Laurie's help) on her final chemistry exam.
When they kiss for the first time, they're in the middle of talking about Halloween night. If you had told Laurie six months earlier that she would kiss Annie mid-sentence, as she's halfway through saying "Michael Myers", she never would've believed you.
They brush it off as a comfort thing. They were talking about the hardest thing they'd ever been through; it was natural to want to comfort each other.
"It was no big deal."
Annie nods, "It was nothing."
They're watching a movie in Laurie's bed when "nothing" turns into "something".
"What?" Annie glances over at her, squirming slightly under her best friend's gaze. "What is it?"
Laurie shrugs, thankful that the lack of light hides her blush. "You just look really beautiful right now."
"Oh, fuck it."
Annie is in Laurie's lap before the blonde even realizes what's happening. Their kisses are quick and bordering on sloppy, both girls working under the guise that if they kiss hard enough, it will push away the thought that this might just be a big deal.
But when Annie's tank top slides off, Laurie's hand acting as a guide, things between them completely slow down. Laurie's never done this. Annie's never done this (well, with a girl). They have to pace themselves, and make it count, even if it's just this one time.
They fall into a routine of talking about their feelings and nightmares, and then comforting each other afterwards. They don't put a label on whatever it is, but they do let "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou" slip out without questioning it.
"God, Annie, I love you," Laurie gasps. "You're the only good thing I have."
Shortly after the first anniversary of the attacks, Laurie gets a job. She knows she has to do something to make up for not going to college right away, so she does this.
Annie doesn't want to feel abandoned or jealous, but it starts to consume her. She wants Laurie to grow and move on from the massacre, but she doesn't want to be left behind in the process. She wants to follow Laurie down that path, but she can't force herself off the front porch most days.
The fights become a constant in their routine before they can even think of a way to stop them. Communication could have been the solution, but they fall out of that habit without even realizing it. Instead of curling up and discussing their issues, they skip straight to sex and Laurie fakes falling asleep to avoid anything resembling a mature conversation.
"Are you going out?"
Laurie freezes, her hand outstretched towards the front door. "Yeah, Mya's waiting out front."
"Oh. I was thinking we could put a movie on, order take out, talk about –"
"As exciting as that sounds, there's a party at her place tonight and I'm going. I probably won't be back 'til late." Laurie cuts her off, turning back towards the door.
"What did I do to make you so mad at me all the time?"
"I'm mad at everything, Annie. Don't take it so fucking personally."
"Of course I'm going to take it personally, you're my –"
The door slams shut before Annie can finish her sentence, and part of her is grateful.
Laurie doesn't come home until five the next morning. There's dark red lipstick smeared across her face, she stinks like vodka and cigarettes, and it's obvious she hasn't slept.
Annie sits in the kitchen, the dark circles under her eyes showing she hasn't slept much, either.
"Are you fucking her?"
The bitter laugh escapes Laurie's lips before she can stop herself. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What did you expect, Laurie? It's five o'clock in the fucking morning, you're drunk, and you don't wear lipstick." Annie decides that shouting at her is the best course of action, because she knows that if she doesn't, she'll start to cry.
"You're so insecure. The only person I've fucked is you, not that that was anything other than some twisted comfort thing." Laurie knows it's low blow, and a lie, but she'd rather be hated than loved right now.
Annie's in front of her now, her tiny frame shaking no matter how hard she tries to hide it. "Yeah, because moaning out how in love with me you are is so twisted, right?"
"Hey, whatever it took to get you on your back."
The slap is quick but it does its job, and she doesn't think she's ever seen Annie so upset as when she chokes out "Fuck you" and pushes past her, leaving Laurie to realize just how badly she messed up.
Fuck her, indeed.
"I'm sorry, Annie. I'm so fucking sorry. Please talk to me."
"I can't – Laurie, I can't just forget what you said to me. Yeah, I'm insecure, but you dug your fucking heels in and exploited that just to hurt me."
"I didn't mean it!" It comes out as a pitiful whine, Laurie's crying now, but Annie refuses to reach out for her. "Baby—"
"Don't," Annie hates her stomach for still fluttering at the nickname. "I can't even consider forgiving you right now."
Laurie spends the rest of the summer trying to make things up to Annie. She goes to therapy once a week, and actually tries to take Dr. Collier's advice, but it doesn't stop her from increasing her prescription collection.
It takes two months of constant apologies, flowers, and some slight improvements to Laurie's mental health before they fall back into bed together.
Annie's so anxious they're going to snap at each other, and Laurie's so strung out on pills, they forget to talk.
When the conversation finally happens, it's a month before the second anniversary of the massacre.
Laurie's lying on her back on her bed, wearing Annie's old cheerleading t-shirt, when its original owner comes into the room.
"We need to talk."
Laurie rolls over to face her, swallowing hard. "Okay."
The next words out of Annie's mouth aren't what Laurie expects, but she takes it in stride.
"I want a redo. After Halloween, I want us to just press the restart button on this," Annie takes a deep breath, her eyes tracing all over the blonde's face before she continues. "I still don't completely forgive you for what happened in July, but I want to. And the only way I can do that is if we have a fresh start. So for the next month, we can bicker about your friends and therapy and anything else, get it out of our systems, and we can even wind up in bed together. But after the anniversary I want things to change."
"How are we going to do that?"
"You'll start taking me out on dates. Real, actual dates. We'll start talking about our issues again without skipping straight to what's easiest. And we'll fall in love all over again in a healthy way," Annie nervously twists her hands together as she explains her plan. "Are you in?"
Laurie nods, smiling softly, "I can do that."
Annie lets out a sigh of relief, "We can do this."
