Notes: The title and inspiration come from Alison, who wrote a really nice West Wing post-ep piece (for the episode, "Noelle") using the song, "Storm in my Heart," back in December 2000. "Storm in My Heart" was recorded by Delores Keane, and can be found on her album, "Solid Ground," or on a nifty compilation CD titled, "Holding Up Half the Sky." Also, I've embellished Lee's time in the Istanbul catacombs and what he told Amanda about them.
AMANDA
It wasn't long after Amanda dozed off that Lee began to make noise. Noises, plural. He was whimpering and gulping big breaths of air while his legs kicked out in jerky fits. A high note of panic stuck in his throat as he fought to vocalize his dream-strangled shout. Just when he quieted to soft whines, he would start kicking and crying out again. Whatever was torturing his sleep wasn't abating.
Amanda had assumed Lee would relight at least one of the candles after she fell asleep. It seemed now that he'd drifted off before he'd had the chance.
He sounded like a small child - little boy Lee fighting off a grown man's demons. It was heartbreaking. They say you aren't supposed to wake someone up in the middle of a dream like that, but Amanda couldn't sit idly by and do nothing either.
She moved as quietly as possible to his side of the table. Crouching down, she watched Lee's face contort with worry and fear. Shifting to sit next to him, she gingerly stroked her fingertips across his furrowed brow. Lee's distress quieted, his expression relaxed, and his breathing evened out.
After several minutes of quiet, the torment started once more. Amanda ran her fingers through Lee's hair and tried to chase away his nightmares with whispered words in the dark cabin of the Mata Hari II.
In retrospect, she was touched that he'd confessed his need to sleep with a light on. Amanda didn't doubt that the dank Istanbul catacombs and its resident rats were awful. She suspected, however, that the real source of the nightmares was whoever had driven him underground in the first place. And the absolute pitch-black darkness. He'd been down there alone for a week, pursued by an enemy with deadly intent. That was a lot for someone to bear.
Lee's restlessness continued periodically for hours while Amanda did her best to keep the worst at bay. In cycles, his face melted from tension into a relaxed angelic look of peace, and back to worry. As the milky light of the coming sunrise started to fill the boat's cabin, Lee's periods of peaceful sleep lasted longer and longer. She was glad she could provide some respite and thought about nudging him to talk to Dr. Pfaff.
Eventually, Amanda stood and stretched. She lay back down on the bench seat on her side of the table hoping to catch at least an hour of sleep. When she woke up, Lee was entirely ensconced in his blanket. He was wrapped up like a calzone and snoring softly. Amanda was happy to let him keep sleeping while she freshened up and did a little recon out the porthole windows of the. Spotting David and Diane Cummings leaving their boat, she roused Lee out of his cocoon and back to the case.
LEE
With Bart and Colleen reunited, Bart's testimony in the books, and the Mata Hari II safely back in her own slip - not to mention a very nice sunset sail with Amanda - Lee was happy to be home and getting ready for bed.
Coming out of the ensuite bathroom without flipping the lightswitch off, he closed the door behind him - not all of the way, but mostly. Once in bed, Lee lay back and looked up at the familiar pattern of light. The door was ajar just enough to allow a line of illumination to slice across his bedroom wall and ceiling. 'Take that, rats!' he said to himself.
He knew his persistent nightmares weren't really about the rats so much as the double agent that had ratted him out. After about 48 hours in the catacombs - he was still able to keep track of time during those first few days - Lee had found his way to a vented portion of the tunnels and soaked in the dim light. The two times he was safely able to return were a sanity-saving respite from a blackness so complete he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face.
The rats had been huge to be sure, but in those hours of sensory deprivation, Lee's mind had played tricks. Rats turned into snakes and all manner of crawling, slithering creatures. Their scurrying and squeaking echoed off the stone tunnels that entombed the graves of saints from as far back as the 13th century. His imagination - and eyes, which had strained to see something, anything in the dark - told him that the ghosts of those saints were reaching out to draw him into their eternal darkness.
In his nightmares, even these years later, Lee would struggle to flee, but the catacombs of his dreams contained fetid water that made the mud underfoot into a mire of sticky, sucking muck. That's when Lee would feel the arms trying to pull him into a void as endless as a black hole. He could usually tell that his mind was conjuring imaginary threats while his body struggled to fight them off. But no matter how hard he wrestled with his consciousness, he could never wake himself from the terror.
It all added up to another reason Lee preferred to work solo. If forced into a situation where he wasn't alone on an overnight case, his preference was to forgo sleep completely. He refused to expose his lingering weakness to another agent.
Having the light on was much more psychological than physiological - a way to trick his mind into keeping the demons back. Just knowing there was a light on as he fell asleep let his mind relax.
On the Mata Hari II with Amanda, Lee had surprised himself by revealing his need for a nightlight. She didn't judge him... well, she did, but not in a way that made him feel like she thought less of him. She never did that. Amanda had mostly seemed annoyed that she wouldn't be able to sleep. Lee had decided to wait her out and light a candle once she fell asleep. Instead, he drifted off, and he spent the night trying to flee the angry ghosts of the catacombs of his dreams.
Now, as he lay in his own bed and closed his eyes to go to sleep, he suddenly recalled being comforted as he fought the darkness. The memory of Amanda's tender touch on his forehead and her calming voice reaching him in the blackness of the catacombs flooded a warmth through him.
Lee smiled as he settled further into bed, thinking that maybe someday he'd get to have the pleasure of sleeping in full darkness on a regular basis - if Amanda were with him.
END