*sorry it took so long for me to update. I'd written a lot for this story but it accidently was deleted. Until recently, I was unable to feel motivated to write it again. I hope you enjoy my newly inspired re-write! Also, in chapters I just posted the main characters name may have changed to Christine/a. Just ignore that. I'm an idiot and keep my stories straight *
In the morning I walk up completely energized and I happily greet Hans in the kitchen. To my delight he has already made breakfast.
"What inspired this?" I ask while spooning scrambled eggs onto a plate.
"I was hungry," he shrugs.
"You know, we missed our game last night, are you up for one now?"
"Sure, what do you want to play?" After a few rounds of backgammon Hans excuses himself because of work for past and future illegal activities needing completion. I clean up breakfast and work on a half-finished puzzle I have set up on the end of the table. After a while he comes back in. He sighs and pours himself another mug of coffee. With a start I realize how tired he looks, his face is puffy and he has bags under his eyes. It doesn't help that it looks like he's beet neglecting to trim his close-shaven goatee.
"Have you not been sleeping well, Hans?" He takes a long gulp of his black caffeine before answering.
"I guess not, no," he sighs and slumps at the table. I want to reach out and embrace him but I don't think he would respond positively to that.
"Then you shouldn't be drinking coffee, try this," I advise, lobbing an apple at him which he barely catches in time.
"What do I do with this?" he mumbles. I roll my eyes.
"Eat it, silly. Moving your jaw will help circulate blood to you head." Ardal whines to be let out so I quickly slide the door open for him. Satisfaction wells up inside me as I hear the crunch of the apple. He does look extremely fatigued though. "But it might not hurt to try to sleep again," I suggest.
"I don't think that would help. If I can't sleep at night, I'm not going to be able to sleep during the day," he tells a knot in the table's wood.
"How long have you had trouble sleeping?"
"It started recently; I just can't turn off my brain. The sleep I do get is restless and plagued by the strangest dreams. The past weeks I've gotten maybe four hours a night, but the past days, I've gotten three between them." No wonder he's exhausted.
"That's a problem. Have you tried meditating?"
"Of course. I just can't stop thinking about-" his voice cuts out and I lean forward, intrigued. Those beautiful, deep eyes jump to look into mine. "About…the plans," he unsteadily finishes. His hand jumps forward a few inches and then drops to his lap.
"Hans, no offense, but you really don't look good. You look unhealthy."
"Is this reality or a dream?" he quietly asks, ignoring my comment. Once again his hand jumps forward and then pulls back, as if zapped by an invisible force field.
"As far as I know it's reality," I somberly answer, knowing this is serious. He's not in a right spot. And although now would be an easy time to escape and him never be any wiser, taking advantage of his pain repulses me like nothing else.
"How can I be sure? Maybe you're just another specter, a hallucination sent to torture and entice me. Be gone, demon!" he cries, standing to flee to his room.
"Hans, Hans!" I yell at him and grab his ratty t-shirt from the back and he easily stops, no energy to fight. I recall only a month ago when this very position, though reversed, happened often enough with the same result. His hand alone contained enough power to hold me still, now his whole body wouldn't be capable to. I turn his shoulders around so he faces me, his face hung.
"You need to sleep."
"I can sleep in my dreams. Is this a dream?" He looks defeated and scared.
"It must be, because you're about to go to bed." I lead him to his room and help him lie on the bed, pulling his covers up and then down. He reminds me of a child. I leave to pull the drapes together and he begins crying out. Instantly, I return to his side.
"If you speak truly, temptress, and this is a dream, allow me to speak without regret or shame. You, apparition, have light like I've never known. It is contagious and intoxicating." In what can only be a moment of extreme weakness, and therefore openness, Hans grabs my bare hand in his and brings it beneath the blankets to lie palm down upon his chest. My heart is fluttering and my lips are dry. Thankfully his eyes are closed, not witness to my blush and smile. His words, spoken during his confusion, can't be taken at face value, but that does not stop me from reveling in them anyways, my confidence and happiness aglow.
His hand remains on top of mine, clasping it to his firm chest. Gradually his breathing slows and becomes regular. Beneath my hand his muscles relax and his hand slides away. There is a small voice that calls for me to lie down next him and curl against his body, but I turn from the idea and tip toe out of his room, careful not to wake him.
I consider calling a doctor or something but I think once he regains his senses he would disapprove of that. Hopefully he sleeps well this time and his mental facilities are regained. Late in the afternoon my progress on the puzzle is interrupted by a commotion in his room.
I hurry in and find all the blankets tossed off, pillows either on the floor or teetering on a side. He's kicking and flailing about and rolling all around the bed. In his sleep he's yelling out.
"Hans!" I call to him, hurriedly putting one hand over his heart and my other cupping the side of his head. "It's okay, it's just a dream. You're dreaming!" His eyes dart crazily behind his eyelids.
"No, NO! You can't, you can't take her! Innocent, I swear she's innocent!"
"This isn't real, it's in your mind. Use your logic, use control, change the dream, change it to something pleasant!"
"You can't take her away, don't make her leave me! Don't leave me!"
"This is not actually happening. You are bigger than this, turn this nightmare into something good. Fly away, and put it behind you. You're on the beach, or in a candy store, or exploring a castle," I forcefully whisper. I don't know if it's my words or just a coincidence but he quiets and his movements become minimal.
Behind his head I reposition a pillow and pull a few blankets on top of him before leaving once again after he's quiet for a sometime. Though I know it isn't my business, and I know that given a choice Hans would never have let me hear his nightmare induced cries, I can't help but wonder who he was dreaming about. This mysterious 'she' who he so desperately needs with him could be anyone I suppose, a past lover or maybe deceased relative. Though the desire to know burns inside me, I will not mention what I have discovered unless he does. It is, without question, a private matter.
Eventually he wakes in the evening, and I'm glad to see the sleep has energized him enough to shave and removed the darkest circles under his eyes. It's obvious he's still overtired but he claims he'll sleep soundly tonight too while we eat dinner.
"Thank you for helping me this morning, the rest was very needed. I'd mention how specific things were very kind of you, but to be honest I can't remember much about what actually transpired."
"That's alright. You actually thanked me for something, that's all I need.
"I wish to apologize for my thoughtless and unreasonable behavior this morning, I had lost all control,-"
"You are still sorely overtired and unreasonable if you think you should apologize for your state of mind earlier. It was no more fault had it been induced by an illness," I interrupt to stop him.
"All the same, I shouldn't have lost restraint like that, it was embarrassing."
"Hans Gruber, you have pride such like that I've never seen before."
Over the next few days he regains his sleep, claiming to sleep peacefully, and sleeping later than I do and going to his room earlier each night. He begins eating more, standing straighter, and blocking me out more. We converse more, but about menial topics, such as how to properly use 'it' in the German language, how long it stays cold here, Ardal's intelligence, etc. I learn no more about him, and if anything his walls are stronger, not weaker.