Spoilers: Sleight out of Hand... ish.
Lindsay paced from one side of the room to the other, her arms crossed over her chest, and every step bringing a pang of nausea to Adam's stomach. From the minute she uttered the words "I need to talk to you," he'd been fearing the worst. The variation on "We need to talk" wasn't giving him much hope.
"Lindsay," he said finally. "Just spit it out."
"I can't. It's just too hard."
"Look, if we're going to have the it's not you it's me talk you can just say it."
"What? Oh no, Adam, I'm sorry, that's not what this is. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Give me a heart attack is more like it," he said, relieved. He reached out and tugged on her hand, drawing her easily into his lap. "If we're okay then what's going on?"
She sighed and leaned against him, playing with the ring he wore on his middle finger.
"I've never talked about it before," she started, "And I really don't want to, but you need to know and I need to be honest with you."
He nodded and she took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. She'd played it over in her head dozens of times and nothing sounded right. Carefully constructed and she worked herself into a place where she couldn't tell him everything like she wanted to. Let it all just flood out and she would miss something.
She started at the beginning, they way she had with the police officers. She didn't hold the tears back any better this time as she told him how scared she had been in that bathroom, the gunshots she had heard, the paralyzing fear of being found. She told him every detail of finding her friends, the conflicted emotions of escaping with her life, but the knowledge that she would never see her friends again. She told him how she had waited for the police behind the counter, feeling cold and scared and unable to do anything but wrap her arms around herself and mutter "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine" over and over again. She told him how the shock had felt, what it had been like to spend the next few days in the hospital, staring at the ceiling, incapable of even stringing sentences together. They were things she had never told anyone else, things that she locked so deep inside that it had become about what had happened, and she never let herself think about what it had done to her.
He held her tightly while she confessed and cried, his own tears mixing with hers. She bore her whole soul to him and when she was done she wilted against his chest, clinging to him as if pure touch could reconnect her to the world.
He didn't know what to do, and she had nothing else left in her, so they just sat. He rocked her gently, the rhythm of their bodies slowing the tears and soothing her mind.
"I wish I knew what to say," he whispered after a while.
"I wish there was something that could be said," she agreed.
"You never told anyone?"
"Everyone knows what happened, but the rest of it? No."
"You still have nightmares?"
"Not as bad or as often as I used to, but still a few times a week."
"You're going to have them tonight aren't you?"
She nodded against his chest, holding tightly to his t-shirt.
"I'll stay with you."
"Thank you."
He laid down and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping them in it so her shivers would go away. She snuggled against him, desperately needing his arms around her, the strength that was so essentially him, that she could at least for a moment forget what had put them in this place anyway. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sniffled, not sure what to do now. Now he knew, and the hard part was over, but she had never told anyone this before and wasn't sure what came next. Thinking about it always exhausted her, and talking about it just heightened that deflated feeling. So many emotions were running through her, but she felt her eyes sliding closed anyway.
The night was dark and still when it started. First her hands clenched against him and she whimpered. He woke up then, not sure what he should do. Her breathing came faster and faster and she started to move, trying to get away from him. He knew it was worse than a nightmare, and he'd seen night terrors like this before and knew how dangerous they could be.
"Lindsay it's Adam. You need to wake up now."
She grunted and pushed against him, starting to get more intense in her movements. Her fists pounded against his chest and she kicked her legs against his, trying to get away. He rolled over so she was between him and the back of the couch, not sure if he needed to make her safe or make her surrender. She fought him hard, and he held her tightly in return, saying her name over and over, begging her to wake up. She was crying in her sleep, a lot of the fight going out of her.
"Come on Lindsay, wake up. You're safe. I'm here. It's okay."
Her eyes flew open and she jumped up from the couch, scrambling out of his arms and running into the kitchen. He wasn't sure if he should follow her, but he didn't think he could just sit there. He made his way into the kitchen and found her at the sink, breathing heavily and trying to regain her composure.
"Linds?"
"I'm okay," she said, her voice shaking worse than her hands had been before.
"I know," he replied, coming to stand next to her. She rubbed her temples and sighed, keeping her eyes closed as she leaned against the sink.
"Adam, you don't have to stay. It's going to be like this all night and I don't want you to lose sleep when you have to work in the morning."
"Hey," he started, turning her to face him. "I said I would stay and I'm going to stay. I'm going to be here to hold you when you wake up and I'm going to be here to talk to you until you can fall asleep. And if my sleep patterns are interrupted, then so be it. I love you and I am going to be here for whatever you need."
Tears dribbled down her cheeks and he wiped them away, dropping a kiss to her forehead.
"Go change into some pajamas and I'll make you some hot chocolate and we can try this sleeping thing again."
"You're really good for me, Adam."
"Right back at ya. Go change."
She gave him a weak smile and disappeared into the other room while he set a pot of water on the stove. Though what she had told him was such a horrible thing, and though he wished with all he had that she had never gone through it, he was glad that she trusted him enough to tell him. The fact that he was the only person she had shared it all with gave him a feeling he had never had before. It wasn't just her and him anymore. It was them.
"Hey, you're boiling," she said softly, leaning against the fridge. He turned the burner down and got mugs out of the cupboard while she found the hot chocolate mix. The liquid steamed as they contemplated each other, both aware of the shift that had happened in the last few hours. They weren't just dating anymore. They had cemented a relationship. They could still be silly and still have fun, but there had been another level added tonight.
They watched out the window and finished their hot chocolate, neither one of them saying much. He took her empty mug from her and set it in the sink, then pulled her into his arms.
"Sleep, round two?"
"Okay."
Their hands swung between them as they made their way into the bedroom. They stood near the bed, her breathing speeding up again in the darkness.
"I don't want to go to sleep," she said. "I don't want the dreams."
"Then don't go to sleep. We can just lay here and talk. You at least need some rest, even if it's not sleep."
"Okay."
He reached over and pulled the blankets back and she sat down on the side of the bed with a sigh.
"I don't know if I can do this, Adam," she confessed. "I know it's going to trial soon. Mom has been sending me articles about it. I know they're going to want me to testify. I don't think I can do it. Tell it all again."
He sat down next to her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before he answered.
"I think you can. I think you need to tell it. And you only have to tell it once more before you never have to tell it again."
"Thanks for the perspective," she said with a small smile.
"Anytime. Now lay down."
"Yes sir."
She crawled under the covers and he joined her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She sighed and closed her eyes, wishing so hard that she didn't have to keep reliving this when life finally got good again.
Lindsay flopped back against the pillows, her breath coming in gasps as she reoriented herself. She wasn't in the diner, she wasn't in Montana, she wasn't in a room filled with blood and death. She was in her own bed, in New York, wrapped up in the arms of someone who would never let her hurt again. He brushed her hair from her forehead and kissed her cheek, shushing her softly.
"I feel like I can't breathe," she whispered, her eyes vacant as they caught his in the moonlight.
"You can breathe just fine, baby. Just relax," he coached, his hand splayed out over her stomach, his thumb moving slowly.
Rain dripped slowly from the sky as her mind let go of the images, loosening the grip finger by finger until they were all shoved back into a dark corner. She sighed and looked over at the clock, hating that it was four a.m. and neither one of them had had any decent sleep yet. She didn't want to do this to him, but she had no clue as to another option.
"I need to walk," she said finally, standing up from the bed and pulling a sweatshirt on over her t-shirt and lounge pants. "Coming?"
"You think I'm going to let you wander around the city alone at 4 a.m.?"
"Ahem?"
He chuckled and stood from the bed.
"I mean, you don't need protection but you do need someone to talk to. Better?"
"Yes."
They slipped into their shoes and headed outside, the rain pattering against the pavement, still warm from the days sun. They walked slowly, quietly, their hands the only thing connecting them in the moment. Her mind was on anything but that diner, and his mind was on that diner and nothing else. They went around the block without a word, getting completely wet, but not caring. He glanced over at her and noticed how resolved she looked, how content… how complacent. He stared at her, wondering if she was giving in, resigning herself to being tortured by this.
"I'm alright Adam," she said after a moment, turning to look at him. "Or maybe I'm not but in a few days I will be."
"I don't want you to let this take over."
"It won't. I'm stronger than I used to be. I'm going to be fine, it's just going to take time."
"I'll be here. Whatever you need."
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and wrapped her arms around him, knowing that out of all the people who had told her they would be there, he was the only one who actually would be. She'd always known he was a man of his word, but she'd never known how calming that could be, how safe she would feel with predictability. She never knew how much she needed it either.
The rain fell harder against them as he kissed her forehead and led her back inside. It would take time, that was true. But time was no object to him, and nothing that inconsequential was going to get between them. He'd hold her a little tighter, laugh a little louder, listen a little better, anything to help her to be herself again.