CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tom Chandler
It had been a rough two days. Sasha was still by his side, encouraging him to forgive himself. But that thought seemed like an impossible feat. How could he forgive himself? How could he even begin to get passed the horrors of his life?
The nightmares were getting to him. To the point he was trying not to sleep. It was late, he thought it might be Saturday, but maybe it was Sunday night. The days didn't mean anything anymore. Sasha had been at his house; except the few times she had run to check in with Kat.
She was gone right now, and he was exhausted. The ghosts still followed him around. Tonight, it was Tex and his dad. Both looking very disappointed in him. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could then dug his thumbs into the closed eyelids pressing hard. When he finally opened them, and they cleared from the darkness…they were still standing there, staring, judging.
"Leave me the fuck alone," Tom moaned then felt fatigue gnawing at his insides. His head ached, his eyes felt like sandpaper, his chest was tight. His body was tightly coiled, a spring ready to fire at any given second. He felt a bone deep weariness. He hadn't slept but six hours in the last three days. He couldn't continue like this, he knew that, but he didn't want to go to sleep.
In sleep the monsters came. The nightmares were intense. They felt real. He struggled on his couch to stay awake. Especially with Sasha gone, he feared what the darkness of his mind would bring. His eyes dipped slowly. He was losing the battle. It wasn't long before his body simply shut down, and Tom Chandler was asleep against his will.
There was a thick fog surrounding him. He breathed in. Acrid. Not fog then, smoke. He choked on it and spun in a circle. He had no idea where he was. An explosion sounded to his right, loud and vibrant. Everything around him shook with the force. Tom spun towards it, unsure what to do, or why he was here. Where was here?
"This is your fault," a voice carried in the thickness. Tom whirled in a tight circle, squinting his eyes against the thick smoke. He recognized that voice.
"Tex!" he shouted, his voice full of pain and fear. "Where are you?"
"Gone, forever. It's your fault, Commodore," Tex said as he held his hand to his ribcage.
"No, Tex," Tom whispered. "I never meant for that to happen," he croaked out as tears formed in his eyes.
"That may be, Commodore, but alas, it's still the truth."
"No," Tom whispered. As Tom stepped forward towards, Tex, the man faltered and fell to the ground. "Tex!" Tom yelled, but the ground morphed, and the smoke swirled thickly around him. Tom spun, disoriented in the smoke.
"Tom," a feminine voice called to him. Tom froze. He swallowed hard, turning slowly to face her.
"Rachel," he whispered, his throat thick with the smoke, his chest tight. He had trouble bringing air into his lungs.
"You abandoned me," she said as her hand held the hole in her chest.
"No," Tom whispered hoarsely.
"This is your fault," she gestured at her wound.
"I tried."
"You failed."
"I'm sorry," Tom wailed. The smoke swirled thicker consuming him. Tom sputtered and choked as he tried to breath, his lungs feeling like they were filled with concrete. He gasped and clawed at his chest, trying to furiously work air in. He was suffocating. Panic set in and he clawed and tore at anything he could get ahold of, trying to clear himself from the smoke.
"Tom!"
A new voice. But he wasn't interested in who wanted to blame him next. Darien? His dad? One of his sailors? Didn't matter. He fought furiously to get out of the smoke, to get away from the guilt. Someone grabbed his shoulders and he punched blindly, working to free himself from their grasp.
"Tom! Stop!"
But he couldn't. Panic had taken hold and he was suffocating in the smoke. He had to get to clear air, he had to get away from all the guilt and pain. His fist connected with something solid and he felt his knuckle dislodge. Someone cried out in anguish and surprise. He struggled to move, crawling now, but the smoke never ended. He was going to die. Someone gripped his shoulder spinning him and he struck out wildly. His eyes burned; his lungs were full of smoke so no air could get in. Blind panic ripped through his brain, then something hard hit him just under his left eye and he was stunned for a moment. His body was flipped onto his stomach, and he was pinned to the floor.
"Tom, wake up!"
He blinked. The smoke was gone. His lungs weren't heavy anymore. He sucked in air furiously. Something heavy was on his back, pinning him to the ground. He struggled to fill his lungs with the extra weight but slowly his brain receded from the blind panic.
"Easy, Babe, just breathe," Sasha's voice was soft in his ear. His face hurt; his hand was throbbing. His breathing was ragged as he continued to draw in more air. "I'm going to let you up," she continued in the soft calm voice. Tom nodded. She eased off him and Tom rolled onto his back. His lungs continued to pump as his body slowly came down from the panic attack. He closed his eyes tightly and felt his breathing ease to something more normal.
He felt Sasha lay down next to him on the floor. She curled her body into his, her head on his chest, arm over his waist, leg tucked between his. His hand throbbed and he brought it up to his face to see why. His knuckle was deformed, and he frowned.
Sasha reached up, pulled her arm from his waist and gripped his hand in her hers. Her fingers brushed gently over his broken knuckle, and he winced. He turned his head slightly and looked at her and immediately felt guilt race through him.
"Fuck," he breathed out and pulled away from her, embarrassed. He sat up quickly and turned his back to her. He heard her sit up, then she was wrapping her arms around him from behind, molding her body to his back. He closed his eyes and tried to pull away from her, but she held him tightly to her.
"Stop," she whispered.
"I hurt you," he breathed out in a shaky voice. "Fuck," he breathed out.
"It's okay," Sasha whispered against him.
"No, it's not!" Tom bellowed and forcibly pulled his body out of her grip and stood up. He flexed his hands at his side and winced as the bad knuckle sent pain rocketing up his entire arm.
"Tom," she said.
"You should probably go. I'm not worth helping and apparently dangerous."
"You were in a nightmare. Trapped in a horror—"
"No excuses," Tom ground out. Her hand landed softly between his shoulder blades.
"Stop beating yourself up," Sasha said.
"I didn't beat me up," Tom said as he turned and opened his eyes, taking in the bruise forming around her left eye, the cut above it, still bleeding. He reached out gingerly, his fingers stopping just shy of her skin.
"I'm okay, Tom," she said. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Tell me about it."
"What's to tell," he said breathing out harshly.
"I can only help you if you let me," Sasha pleaded.
"I never asked for your help," Tom whispered.
"I refuse to let you wallow. I refuse to let you fall."
"What if that's what I want?"
She was quiet then and Tom tried to keep the panic at bay. His chest was tight again, a buzzing noise in his brain. His vision had darkened at the edges.
"Sasha, you deserve someone who isn't broken," Tom whispered as a tear slipped down his cheek.
"You need to get some sleep, come on," Sasha said as she walked away from him. He turned to see her disappear into his kitchen and he frowned. She came back out with a frozen pack of peas. She tossed it to him, and he reached up and caught it just before it hit him in the face. "Put that on your hand."
She walked off again and headed towards his bathroom. Tom sighed and wrapped the bag of frozen peas around his swollen knuckle and winced. He looked at the couch but knew she was right, he needed to get some real sleep. She came out his bathroom and the cut over her eye now had a band aid on it. He sighed as the color was deepening around her eye.
She reached out for him, holding her hand extended, waiting for him to take it. He looked at his hand wrapped in the frozen peas and felt the exhaustion wash through him. Then the fear gripped him. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want the nightmares anymore.
"How do I make it all stop?" he asked in a harsh whisper. His eyes burned with unshed tears.
"We work through your trauma. You let me help you."
"I just want to sleep," his voice broke. Sasha stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his middle. He stood stiff for a moment as she squeezed him. His resolve broke and he slumped into her, his arms wrapping around her. She took his weight and held him as he sobbed against her.
When the outburst was over, and Tom was in control again he pulled away from Sasha. He bent down and scooped up the peas he had dropped and wrapped them around his sore hand. He walked around Sasha without another word and headed towards his bedroom.
He stripped to his boxers and climbed into the bed and dropped his head against his pillow. He heard Sasha coming into the dark room, then she was climbing into his bed, tucking her body under the blankets. He felt her curl into him, wrapping herself around him. He brought his arm around and gently stroked her shoulder.
"It's going to be, okay, Tom," she whispered into the dark. Tom felt the pull of sleep and he fought down the wave of panic that came with it.
"I'm scared to sleep," he admitted to the dark. He felt her squeeze him a little tighter.
"Because of the dreams?"
"Yeah," he croaked out.
"I'm here. You're safe when you're with me," she whispered. Tom felt her lips against his chest, gentle and quick, then they were gone. His eyes slipped closed as sleep overtook him.
Ashley Chandler
The weekend had been rough. She had felt a little forgotten as Uncle Mike was dealing with a lot more now. Sam had had major mood swings over the last couple days. A couple times he had taken his anger out on others, but Uncle Mike always seemed to be able to take him aside and calm him down.
Hannah was having nightmares every time she slept, so when Uncle Mike wasn't dealing with Sam, he was helping Hannah. Abbey was different than before too. She was quiet and withdrawn. Ashley decided it was best to just keep her head down and stay tucked away in her room.
It was late Sunday afternoon and Uncle Mike was off doing something with Abbey and Hannah. Sam was locked in his room and Ashley was feeling the pull of sadness. She didn't have anyone to talk to at the house. She got up and left her room, needing to talk to someone, do something. She tried Sam's room, but the door was locked, and he wouldn't answer her.
She went to Hannah and Abbey's room next, but it was empty. She sighed and walked down the stairs. She could hear them talking in the living room. Hannah and Uncle Mike. She walked down and came into view. The three of them were in the living room on the couch, Uncle Mike between the two girls. She walked slowly in, and Uncle Mike tilted his head up and saw her.
"Hey, Ash, come and have a seat and join us," Uncle Mike breathed out. She felt awkward, almost as if she was intruding, but she sat on the edge of the recliner. "You, doing, okay?"
"Sure," Ash said quietly as her shoulders shrugged lightly.
They continued on in a conversation, but Ashley felt like an extra wheel. She tried to get into it, but she just felt even more out of sorts. She was missing her mom…and her dad. After a while she got up and walked off without a word. She didn't look back, so she had no idea how they had reacted. She went back to her room and flopped onto her bed pulling her phone out. She called up Ms. Garnett's number and punched send before she lost her nerve.
"Hello?" Ms. Garnett answered.
"Um, hey," Ashley replied. "It's Ashley."
"Oh, hey, Ashley," she replied. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, I guess, I don't know."
"What's wrong, Sweetie," she asked softly, and Ashley felt her resolve crumble. Tears sprang to her eyes.
"I don't know," she whispered.
"How are things going in the new house?"
"Busy," she sighed. "Sam's so angry. Hannah has nightmares, and I don't know about Abbey."
"How's Mike doing?" she asked softly.
"He's doing his best," Ashley said honestly. "It's just a lot. I really miss my mom."
"Is that what's this is really about?"
"Maybe. It's really just hard."
"How about you and I plan something."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. What's something you like to do?"
"I don't know," Ashley said.
"Okay. Well, you think about it and just let me know," Ms. Garnett continued.
"Okay," Ashley replied.
"And Ash?"
"Yeah," she replied softly.
"Keep your head up, Kiddo, we'll get through this."
"Okay," Ashley breathed out. The call ended and Ashley thought about what she wanted to do with Ms. Garnett.
Mike Slattery
It was late Sunday night and Mike had just gotten all the kids down in their rooms. He blew out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. It had been a stressful weekend and doing this all on his own was weighing on him. He stretched his legs out and lit a cigar.
After the smoking the cigar in quiet he closed his eyes and tried to relax but nothing seemed to work. He fidgeted on his couch. Finally, he pulled out his phone and called Andrea. She answered fairly quickly.
"Hey, everything, okay?" she answered. He smiled.
"Not really. I'm in way over my head," Mike replied with a chuckle.
"Awe, give yourself more credit," Andrea came back quietly. Mike found himself smiling again.
"This is really hard. I've never had to deal with…this…before."
"You're doing great, Mike," she reassured him.
"I miss you," he said without thinking. It was the truth. He hadn't seen her since they moved out, since the night he kissed her. He was still thinking about that kiss…he wanted to do it again.
"Mike," she whispered in a soft silky voice, and Mike closed his eyes. He didn't answer her, he didn't know what to say. "I talked to Ashley earlier today," she finally said.
"Oh?" Mike said as he stretched his legs down the length of the couch.
"Yeah. She's…"
"Something wrong? She didn't come to me about anything," Mike said, a little worry slipping into his voice.
"No, she just…misses her mom."
"So do my girls," Mike said with a sigh.
"How are your girls?"
"Struggling, I think. Hannah has nightmares. Abbey is…withdrawn, reserved. Not like she was."
"They've been through a lot," Andrea said.
"Yeah. And top it off with Sam's anger outbursts, I'm pretty busy."
"You can handle it. If you can handle two hundred fifteen sailors, you can handle four kids."
"I'd rather handle the sailors," Mike said with a sigh. "That's easier than this."
"I think you're doing a great job," she said, and Mike smiled.
"Thanks," Mike said, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "How are you doing?" he asked softly. He closed his eyes as he leaned his head back on the arm of the couch. She paused and Mike felt a pang of worry run through him.
"I'm doing okay," she finally replied, but Mike could hear the tension in her voice. Mike frowned.
"What's wrong?" he asked without thinking.
The concern was evident in his voice. He opened his eyes and sat up a little. She paused. There was no reply to his question and as the seconds ticked by, he felt the tightness in his chest. He wished she was here…or he was there. He wished he could hold her and make whatever was wrong just go away. These thoughts surprised him. He needed to figure out what he wanted when it came to Andrea Garnett. He heard her sigh, her breathing hitched. Was she crying?
"Andrea?" he said in a gentle voice. His chest hurt thinking that she might be crying, all alone. She still didn't answer him, and he heard her sniffle. He was sure she was crying now. She was trying to conceal that point from him, but he knew. He dropped his feet to the ground and checked the clock. It was very late…or maybe it was really early. "I'm coming there."
"No," she choked out as she tried to clear her throat. "Don't leave the kids," she whispered.
"Andrea," he said a little more sternly. He looked towards the stairs leading to the bedrooms. "They're all asleep."
"What if one has a nightmare," she protested. Mike could hear the quiver in her voice.
"Then tell me what's wrong," Mike demanded in a quiet but stern voice. He heard her suck in a watery breath. "Please," he said, his voice saturated with compassion. He heard a muffled sob. "Babe, tell me what's wrong?"
She didn't answer him, and he checked to make sure the line was still connected. It was, so he closed his eyes and concentrated on listening to her in the background. She was definitely struggling with something tonight. It hurt that she didn't want him to come to her. He looked at the stairs again.
"I'm coming over," he finally broke the silence as he stood up and shrugged into his coat. He grabbed his truck keys then put his shoes on, all while holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder. She didn't object this time, and Mike glanced at the stairs one last time. He prayed no one had a nightmare.
He kept the phone to his ear even though neither of them were talking now. He needed to keep that connection to her. He drove his truck down the block and around the corner, pulling into her driveway, parking next to her silver SUV. He shut his truck off and closed his eyes.
"I'm here, I'm coming inside," he said softly, then disconnected the call and stepped from his truck. He paused at her door, thought about knocking, then just went into her house. She was curled up on her couch, coffee cup in front of her on the table. She was wrapped in a blanket, and she was crying. Mike's heart dropped. He walked quickly across her living room and dropped gently onto the couch next to her.
Without hesitation he reached with both his arms and pulled her swiftly into his chest, tucking her head just under his chin. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shirt. Her body shook with silent sobs as she cried against him.
"Shh," he muttered as he stroked his hand up and down her back as the other held her firm to him.
He shifted so his cheek was against the top of her head, inhaling her scent. She shuttered against him for a while before he felt it stop. She didn't pull back and he wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep or was just still holding on. He waited a few more minutes as they clung to each other, his hand still lightly dancing up and down her back. Finally, he dared break the silence in the room.
"Andrea?" he asked quietly. He had shifted again, laying his chin gently on top of her head. She didn't answer him, and he sighed. "You awake?"
"Yes," her voice quivered. He squeezed her tighter, slid his chin towards his body and kissed the top of her head.
"What happened?" He asked quietly, holding her. Her face was still buried in his chest. He breathed with her.
"It was just hard tonight," she mumbled. "Was thinking about Lily."
"I'm sorry," Mike said as his hand rubbed in a slow circle on her back. He kissed the top of her head again. It felt comfortable to hold her like this and he didn't want to let go.
"I didn't mean to make you come over here," she whispered, and Mike thought he heard some embarrassment in her voice.
"Nonsense. You needed me," he said gently, his hand stilling on her back. She squeezed his middle gently.
"You're a good man, Captain Slattery," she said softly. Mike smiled against her hair. "You should get back home…in case one of the kids needs you."
"You can come with me," he said without much thought, other than he would love to have her in his home. She stilled and didn't say anything. Mike closed his eyes and swallowed. "There's an extra room," he added.
"Not right now. Thank you for coming over though," she said as she started to pull herself away from him. Mike held firm and pulled her in again, breathing deeply, inhaling her scent, imprinting this moment on his memory banks. He knew he was falling off the deep end for this woman, but he wasn't sure if she felt the same way about him.
"You're welcome. Anytime, just call me," Mike breathed out as he released his hold on her. She smiled up at him briefly before she averted her eyes. Mike stood from her couch. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah, thanks again," she mumbled as she looked down. Mike frowned but then turned and walked out to his truck. He sat in her driveway for a long while, staring at her house. He struggled with what he wanted to do and thought about how complicated his whole life had gotten. Before he headed home, he decided he was going to ask Andrea on a date in the very near future.
Kat Nolan
The weekend had been pleasant. Sasha had checked in on Kat a few times but for the most part she had been left alone in the apartment. She had texted with Ray a lot while he was on duty, and talked on the phone with him when he was off. They had talked well into the night hours last night and he had groaned that he was going to be so tired today. Kat was teased him, and then asked him if it was worth it. Ray had said absolutely, and Kat felt a blush wash over her. It was later on Sunday and Sasha had shown up again, luckily not while Kat was on the phone with Ray.
"Kat?" Sasha asked as she came in the apartment.
"Yeah, back here," Kat had called from her bedroom. She stood from her bed and headed towards the living room.
"Sorry, I've been absent so much," Sasha continued with an apologetic smile. Kat shrugged.
"I'm good. I don't need constant supervision."
"I know. I just feel bad dumping you here and leaving."
"It's really, okay," Kat said with a smile.
"Okay. You still have enough food?"
"Enough to last the week at least."
"Okay. And when do you go back to school?"
"Tomorrow," Kat mumbled. She wasn't very excited about that prospect.
"Okay. I'll talk to Captain Slattery and see if you can catch a ride with him in the morning."
"Okay," Kat said. "Are you going back to Chandler's house tonight?"
"Yes," Sasha said with a stiff smile. She had caught the dislike in Kat's voice. Kat just nodded at her and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I know you don't like him right now. But I'm trying to put him back together."
"Great," Kat said sarcastically. Sasha frowned. Kat decided to change the subject. "I'm thinking about joining the Navy."
Sasha stopped cold and blinked. She studied Kat's voice and Kat shifted nervously on her feet, her arms crossing over her stomach. Kat scuffed her shoe on the flooring. Sasha's lips curled into a small smile.
"That's a good choice. Want me to get you some recruiting information?"
"That'd be great," Kat replied with a nod. "I've heard they've relaxed the restrictions on getting in. I'm hoping they'll take me now instead of having to wait util I'm eighteen."
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen right now. I'll be sixteen in two months," Kat said with a sigh. Sasha nodded.
"I'll see what I can come up with. I'll get you in touch with the right people."
"And write me a letter of recommendation?"
"Absolutely," Sasha said with a smile. Kat nodded.
"Great."
"Get some rest tonight and don't be late for school in the morning."
"Yes, Ma'am," she said with smile. Sasha nodded and then walked out of the apartment. That went better than expected, Kat thought. She blew out a breath and checked her phone. No messages from Ray yet. She went back to her bedroom and waited, trying not to fall asleep before he made contact.
TO BE CONTINUED…