Nick panted heavily, eyes tightly closed and his entire body covered in cold sweat. It had been months since his last nightmare, he had almost forgotten the panic and the anxiety that came with it; and the relief when reality seeped back and he realised he safe in bed, a warm, soft hand on his arm
"Thank you," he mumbled, his hand found Carla's own and let the body heat speed up the process of finding his way back to reality as Carla squeezed his hand
Carla had turned on the bedside lamp at some point and Nick had to blink and rub his eyes before he was able to focus on her where she was sat up next to him in the bed. With a sigh Carla rested her forehead against his
"Don't scare me like that again " She murmured
"Some of the things you do scare me, so I'd say we're even " Nick smiles, reaching up and stroking Carla's face
"Can I get you anything? Some tea?" She whispers
"Tea would be nice" He replied, pushing himself up so he was now sitting up, running a hand through his hair as he yawned
"I'll bring it back to bed" Carla smiled before quietly leaving the room, returning a few moments later with two steaming mugs, setting them down on the bedside cabinet, along with a packet of biscuits Nick had insisted on filling her cupboards with one afternoon after visiting her at work, finding her on a break with Aiden, the pair with a cup of coffee in one hand and the biscuits in the other. She must admit they helped when she felt her sugar levels dipping
"Biscuits too? Maybe I should have nightmares more often" Nick joked, reaching or his mug of tea and taking the first biscuit from the packet, offering it to Carla, who reluctantly accepted, giving Nick a small smile
"The nightmare... " Carla mumbled. Nick nodded
"The crash, sometimes I get flash backs " he sighed. Carla reached for his hand squeezing gently. She understood what it was like when your demons crept into your subconscious
"We're a right pair, aren't we" she smiled softly, reassuring him that she understood
"Its still early, we could go get breakfast before work" Nick suggests, watching as Carla physically stiffens
"Even if it's just Roy's" he pleads. Carla just nods, she's too tired to fight him on this one.
"Finish your food." Carla didn't look up from her picked apart fry up
"I'm not five, Nick You don't exactly need to tell me to finish my vegetables." Her voice was falsely calm, barely covering her sudden panic at having been discovered
"I'm not saying finish your vegetables, that's all you have finished "Nick sighs. Carla looked closer at the contents of her plate to discover that he was in fact right. Her egg was mush, mixed with the beans and completely destroyed bits of sausage which had been painstakingly tearing apart
"I'm not..." Carla mumbled
"Hungry, yeah, I've heard that a lot recently. Or is it you're not feeling well, or you're not up to eating this early " he snapped
"I'm not fighting with you " She snapped back, standing quickly and pushing her discarded plate towards Nick and rushing out if the café
Carla sat with her back to the bathroom door of her apartment, knees drawn up to her chest. It was a vulnerable position, but she was safe at the moment, safe from everything but the thoughts in her own head
She took a deep breath and readjusted her sitting position on the floor, trying to get comfortable. She hadn't really noticed how much weight she had lost until then, but the fact that she couldn't even sit comfortably on the floor was a pretty big indicator
Not enough. Never enough
A thought flashes through her mind, the voice is harsh and judgemental
She quickly pushes the thought to the back of her mind, shaking as she pulls herself up so she's standing in front of the mirror
Cracked and messily glued back together, Imperfect ridges and pale fragility. Damaged
Another sob wracks her body, an unsettling feeling in her stomach, she can feel the half digested breakfast churning away, feeling like a lead weight
She's thankful that she's standing near the toilet as another sob escapes her, and an unexpected burning sensation makes its way up through her throat, causing her to gag a few times, but nothing coming up.
It was hard to make yourself throw up, Carla found out. There was nothing wrong with the gag reflex, but keeping the fingers down there to continue to trigger it until it resulted in something else than dry retching was something else entirely
Finally she stuck her finger down her throat far enough that she got the result she wanted, the repeated retching and her stomach content spilled over. Her hand, obviously, followed and most of the sick ended up hitting it and then drip through her fingers down the toilet. Gasping for air Carla spitted repeatedly and flushed the toilet with her clean hand before falling back against the wall
Feeling a bit faint, she got on her feet and walked over to the sink. The bathroom mirror told her that she had grown rather pale beneath the flustered cheeks and the cold sweat had given her a very unattractive glowing
Grabbing the toothbrush she vigorously cleaned her teeth, removing any trace of the previous activities.
As she pulled the bathroom door open she was faced with her worse fears. Nick casually leaning against the wall beside the bathroom, arms crossed and that look on his face
"Carla" he breathed, calmly
He had heard
He knew