Chapter Thirty-Six

They'd made it to Day Nine without killing each other, but it had come close a time or two. Once they had set up what had become "The Tussle Room" (Steph's coinage), Steph had been at them almost non-stop to spar with- her. The physical exertion of the sparring had helped her sleep better for all of one night, and her nerves were still on a hair trigger. The guys, though, were much calmer. She figured that the chance to throw her around a bit when she annoyed them helped. Problem was, they still picked up on her mood, and now they wanted to know what was wrong.

Being Rangeman, and male, they were stubborn about it. No matter how many times she stated "Nothing, honestly," they asked her again and again. By the morning of the ninth day, her dark circles looked permanent and painted on, and Lester managed to take her down using a move that a little old lady could probably have defended against.

Given the confinement, her anxiety, and the obvious something beyond her usual stalker anxiety that was going on- despite her repeated denials-, Lester had cut Steph a bit more slack lately in the 'mood' and 'denial' departments.

That slack was about to end.

Helping Steph up with an extended hand, Lester shook his head. "Your granny could have gotten out of that, Bomber. What's going on?"

"First of all, my granny would be carrying a gun, so there'd be a big hole in you long before you grabbed her." Steph faced off against him again in a 'guard' position, an evil smile crossing her face. "Secondly, my granny would have enjoyed having you pin her, Les."

Lester's lip curled up and he gave a little shiver. "Not an image I needed, Steph."

She merely smirked back at him, enjoying making him a little uncomfortable and waiting for him to attack. Lester chose not to physically attack, although his out-of-the-blue questions worked almost as well at unbalancing her and ruining her concentration as a physical attack would have. And he didn't let up, even though she wouldn't answer him. If anything, she noted, it seemed to make him more stubborn. "C'mon, Steph. Tell me what's really got you, 'cause something's not right."

"I don't want to talk about it.," she stated flatly, beginning to circle him and take the offensive since he wasn't. She most certainly didn't want to discuss the nightmares that had been haunting her. She knew that this wasn't normal, and she didn't need anyone else to tell her so, either.

When she wouldn't answer him, Lester simply refused to play. He walked over to a folding beach chair that had been sidelined when they had straightened up the attic and cleared a spot out. He sat down, his long legs crossed out in front of him and slouched down. "Is this because you haven't heard from Ranger in a couple of days?"

"No!" Steph yelped. Well, not entirely, she thought, although she was sure that he would have been able to keep her bad dreams at bay.

Smiling, Lester nodded. Almost to himself. "Well, I guess that's my answer."

"That's not it!" she yelped in exasperation. "I mean," she lowered and leveled her voice, "I know Ranger has been busy, and it's all on account of me. I would love to talk to him, but I understand." She blew out a forceful sigh. "And I don't have anything to talk about. You guys report in to him everyday, so I have no new news."

Tipping his chair back, Lester tucked his hands behind his hand and smirked. "There's always phone sex."

The annoyed look she shot him could have cut glass; it was beyond mere burg glare. He reconsidered his approach while she continued to pace around and stretch. He was used to Steph yelling or throwing things at him, but not this quiet pissed off. Unsure how to proceed, he remained silent and let her resume the conversation.

Making a comfortable spot to sit down next to Lester's chair, Steph sighed audibly and mumbled under her breath. She was so tired and stressed at this point, and unsure what else to do about it, that she figured maybe it wouldn't hurt to let Les know what was going on. After all, the guys had been very supportive of her. She shouldn't assume that they would think she was a crack pot for having bad dreams. After all, she added wryly to herself, they had so many other reasons to think she was a nut. How could this one be the straw that broke the camel's back? So she decided to tell her partner. "I've been having some dreams."

An eyebrow quirked up. "What kind of dreams," Lester asked, the leering smirk still apparent on his face.

"Not those kinds of dreams," she said as she pushed her hair off of her sweaty face. "I could handle those kinds of dreams." Her eyes glazed over a little as she thought some about 'those' dreams. Shaking her head to clear it, she added, "These are weird, and dark, and scary. It's not the same one repeating, but variations on the same beginning. And none of them are good."

"How long have they been going on?" he asked, concern evident as he shifted in his chair, sitting more upright and tense. He didn't ask for a narrative of the not good dreams, but Steph could see the gears turning.

"Since our second night here," she admitted in a small voice.

Lester thumped his chair back onto the ground and pulled Steph up on her knees so he could look her in the eyes. "A week! And you didn't say anything. Why not?"

Steph tried to avoid meeting his eyes. How could she admit that she felt like a sissy girl-child, to let dreams get to her like this? The dreams, and their effect on her- causing her to loose sleep, to fear sleep- were stupid and big bad army guys would think she was a wimp. She thought she was a wimp. Well, the cat was out of the bag now. "I was embarrassed."

"Why?" Lester demanded, exasperation creeping into his voice. "You've been through a hell of a lot in the past year, and this stalking has to bring back memories for you. Of course you're going to have dreams!"

Furrowing her brow in anger, Steph snorted. "I haven't had any nightmares since Ramirez! Why now? I've been though worse, a lot worse, than Alec stalking me!"

Understanding flooded Lester's handsome face and he grabbed her hand. "Everyone has a breaking point, Steph, everyone. And it doesn't have to be a big thing that sends you over, if you're on the edge."

Biting her lip, tears formed in her eyes but Steph refused to allow them to fall. "I don't like to admit to weakness. And this is a big weakness."

"Do you think, given the nature of our work, that Tank and I have never had nightmares about it? Or Ranger?" Lester's exasperation turned to pure frustration. "Shit, Steph, I thought you trusted us enough to talk to us. I thought we were friends. Why did you hide this?"

Now Steph was puzzled. "I didn't think that it was that big a deal. I thought I could make them go away."

Lester pulled her into a fierce bear hug. "Bomber, you can't just make them go away. You have to deal with them first, resolve the issues." He looked into her eyes, searching for a reaction. "Actually talk about what's bothering you instead of slamming a door or going shopping."

Lester, over the course of the last half-year, had witnessed her normal modes of dealing (or denial) on many occasions. He had aptly described the impulses she was currently suppressing. Taking a deep breath, Steph whispered, desperation in her voice, "I don't' know how to do that."

"Tank and I can help some, but you need to talk to someone professional when this is all over with. Promise me you'll do that?" Lester waited for her answer.

Talk to a complete stranger about these things? Steph thought she'd rather run through Macy's shoes naked. But Lester had made a few good points. "Have you ever talked to a professional? About stuff like this?"

Nodding, Lester quietly answered, "Yes."

"Is it something to do with your military service, or can you talk about it?"

"Sorry, Bomber. I wish I could talk to you about it, but I can't." Lester's eyes held sincere regret. "But I can tell you that it helped immensely."

Steph considered her options. She was tired of feeling like this, and Lester offered her a solution. Maybe it would work for her, too. "I promise, once we're out of this mess, I will. But what about now? I can't function like this much longer."

Lester agreed. "For now, Tank and I will have to do. Wanna tell me about those dreams?"

"Not really," she stated, then got her self comfortable, "but I guess I need to."