Bobby lay there for something like fifteen minutes, sure that any second she was about to wake up, grin, and say Gotcha!. Once he decided she was really dead to the world, he spent a further hour continuing to skim his palm over her stomach, wondering if it was providing comfort even in her sleep. After that, when she had settled into a deep, motionless sleep, he began to let his mind wander.
She looks so little, so damn delicate. Or maybe it's that I'm just so damn big. Maybe it's both. How is it that I can see her every day and never notice? He slowly removed his hand from her abdomen and looked at the ugly bruises he had been covering up with his touch. He was mystified how she'd managed to get through so much of today before allowing the pain to take control. He wasn't sure if he'd have been able to do the same, in her position.
His blue shirt, way too big on her to begin with, was gaping open from being twisted up as she tossed and turned. Now that he thought about it, it also looked like it hadn't been washed since he'd worn it last. Had she said it was the only button-down shirt she could find? She had to have others; he'd seen her wear blouses to work, and she couldn't live in the same dirty shirt for a week. He reached over and gently pulled the shirt closed over her, then tentatively stood up, waiting to see if she stirred. When she didn't, he let out a breath and headed to her closet to look for more clothes she would be able to put on with her limited range of motion.
Hmm. Her wardrobe is heavier on tank tops and fitted shirts than I realized, he thought after a few minutes of searching. He'd found three button-down shirts, but all of them appeared to be tailored to fit tightly, which wouldn't help in her current state. How could the woman not have even one old shirt stolen from her father, or a boyfriend, or something? Every woman he'd ever dated had tried to commandeer pieces of his clothing, claiming that oversized men's clothes felt "so comforting."
Which brought him to the idea that he could lend Alex some of his clothes; she'd have no trouble getting in and out of his shirts, as evidenced by the one she was wearing now. But he'd have to go home to retrieve the clothes, and he couldn't leave her alone here.
He pulled out his phone, set it on the nightstand, and carefully began to close the buttons she'd left open on her shirt.
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"Uh, Bobby," Lewis said an hour later, "I'm not exactly a nurse, here. What if something . . ."
"She'll be fine," he interrupted as he shrugged on his coat. "She's stable; the worst that will happen is that she'll wake up needing another painkiller. Besides, I'm only running to my place and back."
"But . . ." Lewis glanced at the small form huddled on the bed, then back at his friend.
"You've been begging me for the past five years to give you an in with her," Bobby said over his shoulder as he opened the door. "You wanted it, you got it. I have my cell, call me if she needs me." Before Lewis could come up with a suitable reply to that, he was gone.
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She stands against the wall, shaking, waiting for it to happen again. The room is empty except for her and the bad man, and he stands a few inches in front of her, grinning as if she's the Christmas present he always wanted.
It begins...
She is slammed against the wall. She knows it's coming, but it's still impossible to brace for. Her ribs break and she feels her head impact the wall. Stars, pain, flashes of red behind her eyes.
She waits for something to happen. He will drop her, or she will be rescued, or she will lose consciousness. Something always happens. Something always happens . . . now.
"What are you waiting for, sweetheart?" he breathes into her face. "He's not here, my darling Alex." One of his hands rises to touch her cheek in a parody of an affectionate touch. Then he slaps her, hard.
She feels herself falling, sliding down the wall, and he stands there watching her, laughing.
She waits for Bobby. He'll come. He always comes.
He'll come.
The man kicks her in the ribs . . .
Alex woke up with a shriek, her ribs on fire and her body frozen. She lay there, panting, trying to banish the nightmare. It's not real, Alex. He can't hurt you, Bobby said so.
"Alex!" A figure loomed in the doorway and she felt herself start breathing again. He was still here. He would comfort her. "Alex?"
The voice wasn't right. It wasn't Bobby. No one else could be in her apartment. This had to be part of the dream. She closed her eyes and tried to wish it away.
"Alex? Are you ok?" The voice came closer. "Alex?"
A tentative hand touched her shoulder and she stifled another scream. Her breathing hitched. "Detective Alex," the voice said, this time sounding slightly more confident. It sounded like the speaker was smiling. "Wake up. I think you had a nightmare."
No shit, she thought to herself. She took a deep breath, realizing that she only knew one person who put her title and her first name together like that, and opened her eyes. "Lewis?" she asked shakily.
"Hey, you're awake! You had me scared."
She blinked into the brightness. He must have turned on the light while she had her eyes closed. "Why are you here? I'm still in my apartment, right?" She felt panic beginning to rise again. Where the hell was Bobby?
"Yep, still your place. You ok?"
"Where's . . ."
"Bobby?" Lewis grinned. "He called me over here to babysit you while he ran home. He should be back soon; it's been almost an hour."
She shook her head and closed her eyes again. "He promised . . ." Without him here, she could feel the nightmare images rising again in her mind. The evil face, the rough hands around her neck . . . she sucked in a breath.
"Alex?"
She swallowed thickly and tried to keep breathing.
"Alex, are you ok?"
She hurt. Her ribs screamed and the light stabbed at her eyes, even through her closed eyelids.
Broken fan belts or rusted engines he could handle, but Lewis didn't do hysterical women. He backed out of the room and flipped open his phone.
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Bobby awkwardly opened his phone with one hand while attempting to parallel park outside Alex's building with the other. "Hello?"
"It's Lewis. Where are you?"
"What's wrong?" he blurted, knowing that his friend would only have called if he was needed.
"She, uh . . . I think she had a nightmare. I woke her up but she freaked out when she realized that you weren't here."
He felt the back bumper of his car tap the front of the Hummer behind him and muttered a curse. Whoever the car belonged to, they deserved the dent for driving a damned armored truck in the middle of the city; he had more important things on his mind than Alex's ostentatious neighbors. "Ok, just try to keep her calm. I'm parking now, I'll be up in a few minutes. Tell her that. Oh, and ask her if she needs another Vicodin. The bottle's on her nightstand."
"Uh . . . I'll try. Move your ass, Bobby; she's starting to freak meout."
"Yeah." He shut the phone without a goodbye and stuffed it in his pocket as he reached behind him for the bag of clothes he'd packed. A second later, he yanked the key out of the ignition and narrowly missed having his door sideswiped as he opened it too quickly into traffic. "Shit." He pulled back and waited for an opening in the line of cars passing him before he tried again.
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There was ominous silence when he entered her apartment a few minutes later. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he moved closer to Alex's bedroom, straining his ears for signs of life. Ten feet from the door, he began to hear her labored breathing and Lewis's attempt at a comforting voice coming from the other room.
"Alex!" Bobby called, quickening his step.
Lewis appeared in the doorway. "Finally! Get in here!" he hissed.
Bobby nodded and entered the room. "Alex?" he said quietly, dropping the bag on the floor and walking to the bed.
The woman in the bed shuddered, then hesitantly opened her eyes. "Bobby?"
He sat down and pushed her hair out of her face. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Where were you? I had the dream . . . and you weren't here . . ."
"I went home," he explained quietly. "I needed to get a few things for you."
"Uh, Bobby," Lewis spoke up from behind him. "If you two are good, I'm going to get going . . . I have the feeling she's in better hands with you anyway."
"Yeah, fine," he replied distractedly. "Thanks for coming. Alex, it's ok," he went on, forgetting about his friend as he slid his arms carefully around his partner and pulled her to him. "You're fine."
She shivered against his shoulder. "This is ridiculous."
"What is?"
"I'm a grown woman. I know they're just nightmares! It's ridiculous that I wake up and flip out if you're not here like . . . like you're a binkie or something!"
He blinked. "A what?"
She choked on a weak laugh. "A kid's blanket, the kind they won't go anywhere without. Security blanket."
"I'm . . . your security blanket?"
He felt her smile against his neck as she raised her head. "For the moment, you seem to be, yeah. Is that a problem?"
"Nah. I guess it would be fair to say I've been using you as mine, too."
"Great," she said with a snort. "Instead of partners, we're co-binkies. What did you need to go home for so bad, anyway?"
"Oh," he said, looking over at the bag he had dropped when he entered the room. "I got you some clothes."
"Clothes for me? From yourplace?"
He shrugged, jostling her head. "I checked your closet. You don't have any other shirts that looked like you could put on without help, and you can't keep wearing my dirty one. So I grabbed a few more."
"What are you going to wear if I'm laying around wearing your shirts?"
"I packed some for me, too. I've got plenty. I brought you a pair of sweatpants, too. I didn't know if they'd stay on, but I figured right now you'd rather have clothes be too lose than too tight."
"Oh. Uh, thanks. I'll try them on later." She sighed. "My ribs hurt."
"You were probably thrashing around while you dreamed."
She sighed again and leaned back against his shoulder. "Probably. Are you going to stay now?"
"Of course. You still tired?"
She nodded.
"Want me to lay down with you?"
She nodded again, this time more vigorously. "I'm afraid I'll dream again."
"I'm at your disposal," he said, resting his cheek on top of her head. "Need help lying down?"
She shook her head. "I can . . ."
"Yeah right. Come on," he said, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he guided them both back onto the pillows. "Sleep. I'll be here."