The night was the worst part of the day for many reasons, especially for the five teenagers that occupied room 13A. Night brought along the darkness. It wasn't like nurses didn't barge into the room at odd hours, checking vitals and adjusting medication, letting the bright halogen light from the hallway spread like fire through the room. But there were moments when all you could hear was the nervous breathing of the person next to you and all you could see was pitch black. Black swallowed the happiness the teenagers found during the day. It consumed the progress they made, reminding them again and again, each time the sun fell, that they could never truly escape the darkness; it would always be here and with it would come the memories and the pain.
Edward could hear the muffled whimpers coming from the bed next to him. It wasn't every night, but often enough that Rosalie would be trapped in her sleep by a nightmare. Edward peered against the dark dividing curtain that appeared like a thick wall between their beds but let the sounds float easily through the room. He had just pulled on his shoes; he was going to wake her, when he heard another set of footsteps. Edward watched the massive form pass the end of his bed and smiled to himself. He kicked off his shoes again and adjusted the pillow under his head, feeling relieved.
The others were better at this than him anyway. Edward never knew what to say so he would just prod Rosalie awake before going back to his bed. At least that way she would wake up and leave behind whatever was frightening her. Alice was good at it; maybe it was a female thing. She would hold Rosalie's hand and quietly hum under her breath or smooth her hair and eventually the motions would sooth Rosalie into a deeper sleep; one where the darkness couldn't reach her. Jasper would nudge her awake and in his sweet southern drawl talk about something completely irrelevant until her eyes grew heavy and she fell back asleep, her mind distracted by his rambling. But Emmett was the best. Edward didn't know why. He didn't seem like the type to be overly sympathetic but somehow he managed it.
Emmett pulled the curtain around Rosalie's bed tentatively so it wouldn't make that scratching noise that made your spine tingle as it rubbed against the metal support bar that held it up. He didn't want to startle Rosalie either, though he knew she was having a nightmare so he doubted she would notice he had approached her bed. Swiftly he took her hands in his as she tossed her head back and forth. With the moon bright Emmett could make out tiny, pearly beads of sweat on Rosalie's forehead. She thrashed back and forth, muttering, her eyes clenched tight. She pulled and recoiled as if bracing herself for a devastating blow. Emmett had never asked and she had never said anything, but when you live in a room with the same people for over a month you tend to hear things.
It really was none of his business, but it wasn't his fault the doctors and nurses couldn't keep their voices down. And part of him knew that if something was hurting Rosalie it was his business. Despite her telling him on a regular basis that he was an idiot, which he often deserved, he couldn't help but want to protect her. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and make sure nothing bad ever happened to her again. He knew she had been abused. It was hard to tell, because on the outside she was strong. She put on a show, one where she was mean and condescending; it was a layer of protection. She pushed people away, trying to prevent the hurt. But at night she couldn't hide from the things that tortured her, the memories, the pain, the person who hurt her. It was in this state that his Sleeping Beauty looked most vulnerable and Emmett saw first-hand how scared she really was.
The feeling clawed at his chest, making him angry. He wanted to stop her suffering. He wanted to make it go away. And another part of him also wanted to kill the people who caused it. Emmett had heard enough to know that it was a family member who hurt her again and again. He supposed it had been her parents and they were already dead, so Emmett swallowed the red hot anger he felt, pushing it inside since there was no one to take the brunt of what he felt; there was no one to unleash his temper on.
Emmett let his hand linger gently on her cheek and his other hand squeezed hers.
"Rosalie," he whispered, trying not to disturb the others, but Emmett knew they were awake. They were awake, listening to Rosalie with knots in their stomachs. They had become so close over the last few weeks that they could sense when the emotion in the room shifted. And when one of them was in pain, they all were, because the empathy they felt for each other always brought on a wave of pain from the demons they were each trying to hide from.
"Rosalie," Emmett said a little louder, shaking her awake. She gasped and made to bolt upright but Emmett gently held her down by the shoulders. Coming out of the nightmare Rosalie was disoriented and confused. She stared at Emmett and the fear in her eyes was almost tangible. It took her a moment to realize who he was as she glanced around at her dark surroundings.
When she knew that she was really okay and that it had all been a dream she shuddered and started to cry. Emmett pulled her up and hugged her to his chest, feeling her bury her face in his shirt, muffling the sniffles.
"Shh, Rose, it's okay. Don't cry… it was just a dream…your safe…I'm here," Emmett cooed as he rocked Rosalie. She calmed slowly, holding the fabric of his shirt between her fingers.
"Are you okay, now?" Emmett asked, leaning back to see her face. He was looking into her blue eyes that were more violet in the moonlight.
"Emmett, don't go. Stay…" Rosalie choked.
"Okay Rose…just sleep…I'm not going anywhere…I promise."