Ch. 6
She rubbed her forehead. "I feel like hell...more than usual." She had finished her cereal. She put the bowl on the coffee table in front of them and reached for the bag that wasn't there. He felt her breathing quicken and watched her face shine with a film of sweat as she leapt over the arm of the couch and sprinted to the door of her room. He caught up to her watching her dive desperately for her precious bag. The beep had barely sounded when she tore open the zipper and frantically took inventory. Her breathing slowed. He put what he thought was a comforting hand on her shoulder, but before he recognized that she'd tensed, she gripped his arm with both hands and flipped him onto his back. She released him immediately, realizing what she'd done. "I'm so sorry. Reflex!"
"Yeah, I get it," he grunted, getting up, but before he made it to standing position, she'd grabbed her trusty bottle of hydrogen peroxide, zipped her bag with finality, and rushed out the door after the secure beep. He caught up to her as she was furiously spraying the spoon and bowl. He was careful not to touch her. "Hey, you're safe here, okay, I promise."
She stiffened and uttered the thought he'd been afraid of as soon as he heard her awaken from the first night terror. "I've got to get out of here."
She turned to make a run for her bag, but he locked her into a bear hug. She was frantically kicking at the air and trying to push him away with her compressed arms as he held her up from anything with leverage. He glanced at her eyes seeing a glassy unfocused look. She wasn't completely present. The primal creature that ran on fight-or-flight programming for the last decade was shutting down the human Savannah. "This place is designed as a safe house. Why would criminals like us stay here if it wasn't?"
She started screaming one of the many mantras she had to live by to stay clear for so long. "No place is safe! When you feel safe, you get comfortable. When you get comfortable, that's when they get you."
It was insanely more difficult to subdue someone than it was to just knock them out, but he couldn't just knock her out. If he did, they'd lose what little of her trust that they had. This wasn't a force thing. He was going to pull a Sophie. Okay, this was going to require a little bit of force. He squeezed her a little harder, not enought to break any bones, but enough to compress her ribcage and limit her oxygen intake so she'd have to calm down. Only she wasn't. She was so little. Why was this so difficult? He steadily applied more pressure, praying he wouldn't feel a crack. Wow, her bones were strong, but finally her flailing slowed. He hauled her back on to the couch and sat next to her.
He took her by the shoulders and spoke softly. "Savannah? Savannah, look at me. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and then look at me." Surprisingly, she followed orders. "Tell me something happy. Tell me about your sister, your favorite memory."
She struggled to breath steadily, but he could tell she was coming back. "On the swing set in our backyard. I think it's still there. It was before the academy. We ate almost a whole box of popsicles. We were talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up. She wanted to be a veterinarian. I wonder if she followed through."
"And you? What did you want to be?"
Her voice was weak. "I don't remember. Now you. You tell a happy memory."
He wanted to argue, but he conceded with a sigh. "My first successful souffle."
"More, tell me more." He began to recount some of his favorite culinary accomplishments. He's gone on a few minutes and glanced over to find her surprisingly and peacefully asleep. He got a hold of a blanket and laid it over her as gently as he could, painfully aware that the slightest touch could trigger fight-or-flight.
He poured himself a whiskey and laid back in the recliner next to the couch. He took a few sips as he watched her. Even asleep, he could see the distress in the slight furrow of her brow. He finished his whiskey and crossed his arms over his chest as he began to drift off. The question flitted through his mind of whether or not it was entirely safe to sleep with her unpredictable behavior, but he had to sleep sometime and it would only be ninety minutes.