A/N: This story takes place the summer after Craig's dad died (I don't think they dealt with it enough). Not to give away the story, but I always thought that Craig fit the profile best...read on to see what I mean!
And, in case you were wondering, I own nothing (but wish I did).
She cowered in the corner, and begged him to stop. "Please, no more. Please…"
He was powerless to do anything about it. He could only watch in horror. He couldn't stand to see her suffering and just couldn't be silent anymore. "Stop it!!" He yelled out before he could stop himself.
Before he knew it the dark figure was rushing towards him, fists raised.
"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Craig Manning sat straight up in his bed, drenched in sweat, his heart racing. Another nightmare. He had had one every night since his dad died. The dreams were always the same: sometimes Craig dreamt that he was in the car with his dad on the night of his accident, other times he simply relived the times his dad had beat him. Tonight was the worst though. Tonight it was about his mother.
"Craig, are you okay?" Joey Jeremiah had been awoken by Craig's screams.
"What's wrong with Craig?" Angela had apparently been woken up by the scream, too.
"I'm okay Ang. Just a bad dream." He reached out to give her a hug. "It's okay."
She grimaced. "I have bad dreams sometimes too."
"Come on Ang, let's get back to bed." Joey led Angela towards the door. He paused and turned around. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Craig nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks Joey."
Joey shut the door as the two left the room. Craig leaned his head against the wall. He wasn't fine. He hadn't slept in days. The nightmares were getting worse, and no matter what he tried he could never get back to sleep after having one. He glanced at his alarm clock, 3:17 am. He sighed. He waited until he was sure Joey and Ang had fallen back to sleep and then crept downstairs.
He poured himself a glass of milk, turned the TV on low, and flipped through the channels. He needed to get his mind off that dream.
"Craig?"
He jumped, startled that anyone else was awake. His foot connected with the milk glass that he had set on the coffee table. It caught the corner of the table and shattered to the ground, spilling milk everywhere. "Geez Joey, you scared the crap out of me!"
"Why aren't you in bed?"
He fetched a towel and a dustpan from the kitchen. "I couldn't sleep." He started to clean up the mess he had made.
"Craig," Joey started, "Craig, forget about that for a minute. We need to talk."
Craig just went on cleaning the floor. "I want to get this milk cleaned up. I don't want it to set into the carpet."
"You can get it later. Let's talk first." Joey sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for Craig to do the same.
Reluctantly, he stopped scrubbing the carpet and sat down next to Joey.
"What's going on with you man?"
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't been yourself lately. You've been having nightmares-"
"I'm fine."
Joey looked unsure. "Maybe you need to talk to someone."
Craig laughed nervously. "Joey, I'm not crazy. I'm just having some nightmares. I'm fine." He shook his head, knowing what Joey was going to say next. "I just came down here for a drink. I'm gonna clean up my mess and go to bed. I'm fine. I am."
"Alright, but I'm here if you want to talk."
He nodded. "Thanks, but I'm fine."
Joey stood up and headed back upstairs. "Just clean up and then back to bed, okay?"
"Mmhmm." Craig had already gone back to cleaning. He waited until he heard Joey's bedroom door close, and then leaned back against the couch. The more he tried to convince others that he was fine, the more he was starting to believe it. He could deal with this. He knew he could.
'I better get this mess cleaned up before Joey comes back down and wants to talk some more,' he thought. As he was picking up the glass, a shard caught his finger and, before he knew it, he was bleeding. 'Great,' he thought, 'just my luck.' He finished cleaning and went upstairs to get a band aid. His night couldn't possibly get worse.