[Home Plot] Sticks and Stones, Pt. IV

[manwithoutfear]

In a word, I wake up violently.

I can't pull in enough air, can't breathe, each inhale a gasp. My throat feels like sandpaper when I dare to swallow. Limbs tangled in my sheets, I roll from the bed onto the ground with a dull thud -- only to realize everything's dulled. My ears are stuffed with cotton and my hands are bone dry, the world around me dark and flat.

It was all a dream. The Hand, Bullseye, Foggy... All of it. It never happened. We never even left the room. My God, the baby-- Is Ellen even--?

The world tilts. I spit out a sound that's part sob, part yell, and punch the floor, once, with everything I'm worth.

It's not enough.

Comments

[shewaswarned]

Ellen wakes up similarly, but with a gasp that punctuates her sitting upright in bed, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

A loud crash has her whirling in the direction of the sound, and she barely makes out the slump of Matt's shoulders in the dim morning light before she scrambles to the foot of the bed, sliding off and onto the floor to wrap her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his shoulder.

"I'm right here," she whispers, breathing against his skin. "I'm right here, Matt. Just breathe with me."