His screams could make lions cower. Like seriously. I don't tend to sleep a lot. Never really needed to. And it is evident that even if I did want to sleep, I wouldn't be getting any peace. It's been 34 seconds. A relatively short period of time? Maybe. But oh what agony rings out in those screams.
I'm lying on the couch in his living room and he's in his bedroom. And my keen ears can detect the mattress recoiling every time he strikes down on it in his anguish. Every five seconds a pause. Laboured breathing, choking sobs. And a few names. Nightmares. Now that's why I'm not too fond of sleep.
I get up from the couch and take a deep, relaxing breath. It's second nature to me. Even though as I walk towards the small oak door, his shouts of pain become louder. But soon, if I can do this, he will be silent. I push the door open and approach him.
Oh James. Poor, poor, hurting James. He looks like he's had a shower, such is his skin drenched with sweat and his cheeks run with tears. I used to be like that. Torn by a last which would not let me go, before Charles Xavier taught me why I had to let go.
I don't say a single word. I simply sit on the thin pillow beside him, and gently touch his head. The skin is clammy beneath my hands but somehow, somehow, I know what I must do.
I reach my head down, taking care to keep my hair out of his face and press my lips to his forehead. In the space of a second, his breathing stills and I can hear how his heart is slowing down. Encouraged, I kiss him again.
"Sshhh," I whisper softly, pressing my cheek to his. "It's over now my friend."
"Friend?"
His eyes open slightly, his voice husky with tiredness. "We're stuck in an awkward spot right Talia?"
I turn to get up but his firm arm around my waist prevents me from leaving. "Please don't leave . . ."
"What?" I ask.
"Don't leave me," he repeats, adjusting his grip so it becomes evident I'd have to break his arm to get away. Not that I want to.
"You make the nightmares go away," he says and once again, his fatigue is evident in his voice. Night after night, being tormented by demons of the past. I know that burden. I know the marks it leaves, and the fear it ingrains. If Charles hadn't taught me, I'd still be a victim. Maybe this is why I had to come. To help James Barnes get a foothold in normal life. And that starts with a restful sleep.
"I'll stay," I reassure him.
How to do this? How to do this? Ah sod it. I'm tired. He's tired. And there'll be no hanky panky tonight. I am wiped out.
"Here," I say awkwardly, throwing back his covers and getting into the bed. "Don't you get any ideas!"
A ghost of a smile graces his face at that. "Well . . ."
"No," I smirk. "Keep it in your pants. I'm just here to help you sleep."
"And I appreciate it . . ."
A silence dawns upon us and as I turn to face him, I realise he is holding his arms out to me. I slide into his embrace and allow him to rest his head in my chest. I pull the blanket up and allow the darkness to glide around us, drawing us into rest.
Initially, I can feel the tension in my shoulders, the natural anticipation. But there is no time for that now. I hope, as I always hope, that I can get a happy ending. Maybe with James, maybe with someone far into the future. I just hope my body doesn't react too strongly . . .
"Talia?" He says groggily.
"Yes James?"
"I love you."
I stiffen. So much for calmly drifting off. Feels like my damn body's on fire. Stupid limbic system.
