Chapter 6: Night Terrors

Tonight, I cannot sleep, because tomorrow is the first day of the trial. I toss and turn in my overly plush hotel bed for over an hour, until finally at midnight I throw the multilayered covers off myself in exasperation and take another melatonin tablet—I already took one earlier, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. I know I'm risking getting shaky from this second one, but I desperately need it. So I wait the next twenty minutes for it to kick in, pacing my room restlessly.

Eventually my listless steps lead me to the door of my room, which I unlock in the dark and slowly open. Stepping into the hall, I see that the lights are dimmed out here too, but not so much that I can't see down to the end of the hall. Closing the door behind me, I look the other way down the hall, and then I start walking in that direction.

I don't know where I'm going or why, but it feels good to walk the stress out of me. After a little while I'm faced with two ways to turn, so instead of risking getting lost I just turn back around and head in the other direction. Soon enough I pass my door again, but I just keep walking.

Suddenly another door several doors down opens in front of me, and before I can move or hide or anything, a man stumbles out the door, not bothering to close it behind him. His head is turned away from me, so I can't see his face, but I see that he has messy, light brown hair and a slightly thick frame in lounge pants and a white t-shirt.

After a moment of staring blankly down the hall, during which I just stand there and stare in my own loose nightshirt, the man turns his head my way, and I'm utterly shocked to see that it's Alan. He starts walking my way, but he says nothing, and as he nears me I realize that his eyelids are practically closed and he's almost limping. I run forward and take ahold of his arms, speaking to him and asking if he's all right. Inside I'm terrified he's having a stroke or something, but when he doesn't even look at me and starts trying to walk past me, I realize that he's sleepwalking.

Then he starts running again, and now I'm definitely worried. "Alan!" I call, running after him again, and I grab his arm and hold him in place.

He looks at me, eyes wild but cloudy, and I shake him. "Alan, wake up!" I say.

"I have to get away!" he mumbles, disoriented and struggling lightly to get away from me.

"Alan, you're okay," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "You're all right, just wake up."

Instead of waking up, he turns on his heel after a moment and begins walking towards his room. I let him and go with him, and he just makes it through the door of his room before he stops in his tracks.

I'm afraid he's going to bolt again, but suddenly he turns around and looks at me, actually looks at me, and I realize he's awake.

"Alan," I say quietly. "You've had some nightmare. It's all right, you were heading down the hall but I stopped you."

He looks embarrassed and startled, and rubbing his hand over his face, he leans against the wall and exhales deeply. "I'm…terribly sorry," he says. "You shouldn't have had to witness that."

"I didn't even realize we were on the same floor," I murmur.

He makes a sound between a scoff and a cough. "Neither did I. And I'm sorry."

"It's all right," I say, leaning too against the doorframe, suddenly exhausted. "Does this happen often?" I'm getting the impression it does.

"Yes," he says reluctantly after a minute. "Unfortunately."

"Night terrors," I mutter.

"What did you say?" he asks almost sharply.

"Night terrors," I repeat louder, a little startled.

"Yes," he says, seemingly surprised.

"I get them too, sometimes," I say. "Terrible dreams, or insomnia, or…when it's worst, sleep paralysis. I hate that." I look down at my feet, remember the last time it happened and how terrified I was, motionless on my side with my fists clenched, unable to get away from the dark figure I was sure lurked in the corner of my room. I shiver.

I look up to see Alan watching me. His eyes flit up and down over my body before finally resting on my face. I can see that he's surprised we have this in common.

"Are you in any danger?" I ask after awhile.

He blinks. "I don't know. I once stood on the edge of a balcony, a year ago when it was at its worst…. It hasn't happened for many months…until now."

I'm a little shocked. "Do you…have anyone who can help you? Stay with you?"

He shakes his head, looking just a little sad. "No."

I nod, not terribly surprised but sad for him as well. Then I feel sad for myself.

I finally take a moment to look around his room, dark as it is. All I can see is his bed towards the back and the curtains slightly lit by the outside streetlights, but from what I can tell by the dark outlines, it's a neat room, another thing I'm not surprised by.

"Will it happen again tonight?"

He bites his lip slightly. "Again, I don't know. It usually only happens once in a night, but there was one time…"

I can't stop myself before saying, "Would you..like me to stay with you?"

"No," he says firmly immediately, and I almost flinch. Then he looks apologetic and says, "I'm sorry, what I meant was…you don't have to. You look exhausted, and…it's not right."

I wonder what he means by "not right." "You have another bed," I say, pointing to the outline of a second bed my eyes have finally adjusted enough to see. "I'm just…afraid it'll happen again, and this time I won't be there to stop you from hurting yourself."

He looks hesitant. "It's only temporary," I add. "Just for tonight, until you can figure something else out."

He finally nods after a moment, convinced. "Thank you," he says, his voice low.

I nod back, my mouth suddenly dry and my palms sweaty on my nightgown that suddenly seems inadequate. "You're welcome."

Not needing anything from my room, I set the keycard that I've had clenched in my hand this whole time on the nightstand next to the bed slightly closer to the door, the one that's still made, and climb into it. After staring at me in the dark for a minute, Alan too gets into his bed and draws the comforter over himself.

I can't help but watch him even as he doesn't move, the comforter over myself too, and I know that he's watching me back from the tilt of his head. The blinded window casts just enough light from the streetlamps and moon to let me see his form in the bed, an undulation of blankets and sheets and mattress all forming Alan.

In the silent darkness, his voice resonates through the entire room when he speaks after a while. "Thank you again," he says, his voice barely over a whisper. He knows I'm still awake.

I lick my dry lips. "You're welcome," I reply, my voice also quiet.

"I'm sorry."

It takes me a moment to process that. "Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry that I…violated your personal space earlier today. I'm sorry that I have been inappropriate many, many times since I've become your lawyer.

"I'm not very good."

"Very good what?" After he says nothing, I prompt him a little more with, "A good lawyer?"

"No," he huffs. "I'm a good lawyer. Very good. I'm just not a very good person."

I swallow, feeling a melancholic wave wash over me. "You're a good person."

"How so?" It's barely a question; he doesn't believe me.

"You're helping me with my pitiful case. You're kind to me when…not many people have been. When I've felt truly alone."

When he says nothing for a long time, I'm afraid he hasn't heard me. Finally I venture to call, "Alan?"

"Come here," he says, his voice slightly gravelly.

Not sure what else to do, I obey him, rising sluggishly from the bed and walking over to his. I stand over him, finally able to see him, and he looks up at me with low eyelids.

After he says nothing for awhile, I realize he wants me to sit next to him, so I do. I have no idea why I'm doing all of this, this thing that's quite possibly the strangest thing to ever happen to me—but then, I have no one else to talk to or be with. So I sit beside him in the bed, on top of the covers, then lie down on them.

He half-sits then, pulling down the covers from beneath me and then pulling them over me. It's a gesture that actually makes me tear up slightly, and before I realize it I'm full out crying.

It's silent, but somehow Alan senses it, and he draws me in and holds me while I sob on him for the second time. I feel disgusting and pitiful, but he holds me, and I hold him back.

I finally fall asleep, many long minutes of crying later, just like that: in Alan's arms.

A/N: As I'm sure you all can tell, I've been on a writing spree tonight!