Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They're property of ABC.
Author's note: I got this idea back in mid-November and I'm not sure where this fits in continuity wise in light of recent events. I'm not sure if we're supposed to understand that Hayes's trial had already taken place or that he was awaiting trial at the time of the riot. So this is either past or Alternate Universe.
While his touch made her skin crawl, his laugh was so much worse. It was the laugh of a man capable of anything; who had already created nightmares and had worse in store. He was insane, but he was smart. She knew exactly how strong the possibility was that he would get away with the plans he taunted her with. His hand reached towards her again and she tried to shrink back from it, but the ropes held her upright. And for perhaps the tenth time the realization crashed down on her that she was not going to get out of this-
She woke screaming, still struggling, and had stumbled halfway across the room before she realized Hayes wasn't there anymore; she wasn't in his little surreal fantasy room anymore. She didn't begin to realize where she actually was until two arms wrapped around her and a deep, hoarse voice called her name. She lost her balance and let herself collapse against those arms as he eased them both to the floor. Wrapping both of her arms around one of his, her pulse still racing, still gasping for air, she tried to ground herself. John was here; they were in his room. She was… safe? She couldn't quite make herself believe it.
"It's okay," he murmured in her ear, "it was just a nightmare."
She shook her head. Then burying her head in the curve of his neck she said, "I wish."
His mind slowly processed what that meant, what was going on. Natalie could almost feel the moment when he put it all together.
"Memory?" he asked. "Hayes again?"
"Yeah," she said as he rocked her slowly back and forth.
"This is about tomorrow, isn't it?" he asked gently.
Her eyes searched the dark room for a clock. Tomorrow or today? It had to be nearly dawn. How much more of the night did she have to get through? "Yeah," she said, unable to stop her voice from cracking, "At least by tomorrow night this will be over."
He stroked her hair gently, "He can't hurt you anymore. You're strong okay? You got through the hard part."
Had she? Was she? How did he know? How many more nights like this would she have? How long before every touch, every laugh, every basketball court stopped paralyzing her with fear? Was this really easier than dying in that pit would have been?
She reminded herself to be grateful; she was alive. Not all of Hayes's victims had that opportunity. She had John. She had the daylight. It was only the darkness which brought these thoughts into her mind. Her eyes finally found the red glowing numbers of the alarm clock by the bed; 3:17. She should have known. They might call midnight the witching hour, but she had enough experience to know that the hour between three and four in the morning was always when the darkest thoughts came.
"I'll be right there the whole time," he said. "If he starts to get to you, or the lawyer gets too obnoxious, just look at me. Remember I'm there with you."
She snuggled tighter against the warmth of his bare chest. With everything else Hayes had done to her, he had brought her John. She could almost be grateful. "John?" she said softly.
He made one of those sounds which wasn't quite a word but indicated she should go on.
"I don't want you there. I mean, I know you have to be at the courthouse, but I'd rather you weren't in the room when I testify."
The shock of her request made the muscles in his shoulders tighten; she could feel them against the skin of her temple. "Why?"
Reluctantly she pulled away from him enough to look up at him. The amber glow from the streetlight outside lit up the left side of his face. "Because I know how much you torture yourself over everything that happened to me," she said, "and I know it'll upset you to hear me telling the court about it all."
"Don't worry about me," he pleaded brushing the hair out of her eyes.
"I'll do that," she said half smiling, "about the time you stop worrying about me."
"Natalie-" he began but she cut him off.
"Look, I know you've already read my statement. I know that you know everything. And I know that you're here for me whenever I need you. And I need you to not be in that courtroom. If I have to see the expression on your face when I talk about it… it's just going to make it harder."
He didn't like what she was asking him, she could tell, but she also knew he just wanted to help her in any way he could. "If that's what you want," he finally said.
"You'll be with me," she assured him, "I'll still know how much you care about me if you're waiting out in the lobby."
"You're sure?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Okay," he said moving suddenly to help her stand up. He led her back to the bed and climbed in beside her. "Think you can sleep?"
"I don't know," she said honestly wrapping herself back in his arms as he tried to arrange the blankets around her.
"You want the light on?" he asked.
She shook her head, "I don't want to keep you up."
He flipped on the bedside lamp and smiled wryly at her, "It won't. The whole time you were gone I don't think I turned it out once."
She didn't point out that from what she'd heard he didn't sleep much then either. "I'll be right here with you," he said letting his head fall against hers.
Snuggling closer to him she wished there was a way she could take him with her into her dreams, into her memories, and then maybe he would be right there with her and she would be strong enough to get through this.