She's trapped.
Cold metal against her bare skin. Suffocating darkness. Air thinning.
Her lungs burn. Her ribs feel like they're caving in. Her fingers claw at the walls, useless. The silence is worse than the pain. It drowns her.
Her heart pounds against her ribs. Too fast. Too loud.
She can't breathe—
She can't—
Lucy wakes up with a jolt.
The room is too dark. Too small. Her chest is still tight, her breathing shallow. She blinks, but the shadows don't move fast enough.
For a second—just a second—she's still trapped.
Her fingers clutch the sheets, her pulse hammering against her throat. She tries to focus, to ground herself, but the weight in her chest won't lift.
No.
She can't be alone right now.
Her hand finds her phone before she even realizes what she's doing.
The call barely rings twice.
"Lucy?"
His voice is low, thick with sleep, but instantly alert.
Lucy parts her lips, but nothing comes out.
She's shaking too much
"I'm coming." His voice is quiet, firm.
She doesn't stop him.
She couldn't if she tried.
Three soft knocks. Lucy stumbles forward.
Her body won't cooperate. She's exhausted. Drained.
She unlocks the door and pulls it open
Tim's eyes meet hers.
And everything shatters.
Her legs give out beneath her.
For a fraction of a second, Tim's stomach drops. Just long enough for fear to claw at his throat—before instinct kicks in.
Before she falls, his arms catch her.
"Hey, hey, I got you."
Her body folds into his without resistance. Her fingers clutch at his t-shirt, twisting into the fabric like it's the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
She's trembling.
Hard.
Tim tightens his hold. One arm beneath her legs, the other steady at her back, cradling her like something fragile.
"It's okay. I've got you." His voice is low, steady, even as his jaw clenches.
He nudges the door shut with his foot and moves without hesitation.
The bedroom.
He pulls the covers back and lowers her onto the bed, but the second he tries to pull away, her grip tightens.
A whisper, barely audible:
"Stay."
Tim doesn't even think. He sits down, then slowly stretches out beside her.
Lucy presses closer instantly.
Her cheek against his chest. Her breath against his skin.
Right where she knows she's safe.
His warmth seeps into her, grounding her. The steady rise and fall of his chest anchors her to something real. The weight of his arm around her feels unshakable, like a shield against the nightmares.
"Breathe," he murmurs.
She listens. She syncs her breaths with his, slow and steady.
Seconds stretch into minutes, and the storm inside her begins to settle.
Tim lowers his head slightly, pressing a fleeting kiss to her hair. A quiet, instinctive gesture. A need to make this better, even if he knows he can't erase what's already happened.
He closes his eyes for a second.
It kills him.
It kills him to see her like this, to feel the weight of something she should never have had to survive.
His fingers keep moving in slow, soothing circles against her back.
"I got you." His voice is quiet, rough around the edges. Almost broken.
And then, softer—like a breath, barely there—
"Lucy…"
He doesn't even know if she hears it.
But her grip on his hoodie loosens slightly. Her breathing evens out.
And for the first time in a long time, she falls asleep without nightmares.