She had never been so exhausted in all her life before, it was funny considering Quinn James never failed to fall asleep; anywhere, anytime and during any situation. So why was it that sleep failed to find her on this night or any other this week?
Nightmares.
Terrifying nightmares.
Not about anything normal girls would be scared of; spiders, clowns even dogs. No, it was something far more serious.
Every single night, while lying in bed next to the man she truly loves, Quinn finds her brow creasing, sweat beading on her forehead and her fists clenching. If it were an especially bad night she would thrash around, possibly give Clay a bruise or two. Then she'd shoot up in bed, heavily breathing, a gun shot ringing though her ears. After checking she was actually alive, no bullets in her (except the one they couldn't remove from her left breast), Quinn found herself looking over Clay. As long as he were breathing, and no bullet lay inside him either, she pulled herself onto the floor.
Like a ritual she turns the coffee maker on, letting it steam and brew nicely, then, with the easiest of moves, she grabs a knife from the side holder and sweeps over the house, leaving no cupboard unturned.
At seven am every morning, Clay finds Quinn James, a coffee mug clutched firmly in her hand, fighting sleep as best as she can, at the dining table. They both know what's wrong with her, but neither will ever to ask why or comment on it. Instead he pours his own cup of coffee and refills her cup, before starting on making some breakfast for the both of them.
Her heart beats so fast Quinn is sure it will thump its way out of her chest. Everything is moving in slow motion. Things happening around her that she cannot stop, can't change. Nothing works. It's like she is an outsider looking in through the window.
And there stands Katy, the curtains blowing heavily in the wind behind her, dyed blonde locks flowing from her shoulders. A menacing look lies in her eyes. Tormenting. But that's not the worst part. A look in her eyes is nothing compared to the gun in her hand, her finger on the trigger already. Smirk slowly growing.
A tear trickles down Quinn's face as she sees the shadow of her boyfriend coming through the doorway. As he sees her, he stops in his tracks, looking to Katy with a tear in his eye. Just as he stops, Quinn starts. She races towards Katy and suddenly realizes that she is no longer looking in through a window, she's standing next too Katy. Seeing the opportunity, her hand reaches out to grab the gun, but it's too late.
The shot rings out, Katy freezes, Quinn freezes, Clay falls. He falls heavily, like a sack of potatoes. Down to the ground with a thud, sliding down the door as he goes, leaving a horrible track of blood in his wake. She makes a run for it, her haunting voice shouting out as she does so.
"Clay!" And she is at his side. Finally able to touch him. Betrayal mirrors in her eyes, looking just like it had in Clays. She looks hurt as she turns to Katy. "How coul-" and it's too late, she realizes now she isn't just watching from the sidelines, she is in the nightmare. A second shot rings out.
Before Quinn has a chance to fall to the floor, she rises, with a heave of her body, gasping for breath.
For once, she is not alone. He is there, at her side, wide awake also.
"Sshh." He gently whispers in her ear, a hand smoothing up and down her back. "It's okay, you're safe," His reassuring voice came.
Quinn's hand grips at Clay's chest. Clinging to him tightly so she can not lose him.
It hurts, of course it does, Quinn has nails as long as a panther's, but he doesn't care. It doesn't hurt more than seeing how upset she is. Clay's heart is breaking just listening to her sobs. "I am fine." He calms her. Swiftly he wipes a tear off of her cheek, replacing it with a tender kiss. Hugging her tightly to his chest and pulling her back into the bed carefully.
The blanket wrapped around them both, softly he rocks her back and forth, wiping away more gently dripping tears falling down his girlfriend's face.
Quinn James didn't sleep properly that night either, she never succumbed to the lead weighing down on her eyelids, but at least she was not alone. Her and Clay lay awake in each other's arms. Neither of them mentioning the nightmares or the past weeks events, instead both basked in the thought of each other. Reassured that even if the nightmares still came, they would have each other.
Anything they were to face, would be fought together.
