Nightmares

She always tried to wake him when he had his, even if it never worked.
Her’s were sporadic, sometimes coming every night for a week before leaving her in peace for some time, only to strike back with a vengeance. They weren’t predictable, but his were. Four times a week the bad ones came, the ones that made him cry out in the night, made him sob in the dark, but other, lesser nightmares came just as freely as her own.
Tonight their tormented dreams had coincided, but she had woken from her’s on her own. She’d been back in New Alexandria, watching her life be burned away by the pillars of energy coming down from above. The screams drowned out everything else as the sky turned red and her home was consumed in flame. At her feet, were the bodies of those she’d loved, slowly turning to ash.
Bridgette struggled to catch her breath as she prodded her goliath of a husband’s shoulder, the sound of her fearful breathing and the chirp of crickets were all that dared disrupt the dead quiet of the colony’s night.
“Please.” She murmured softly, barely above a whisper as she pulled more of the blanket onto her as Callum twitched and turned, beginning to murmur. He never heard her, she’d tried nearly everything, for a man she’d thought to sleep with one eye open, he slept like a rock. Or maybe he just refused to let himself be free until the torment had run its course.
He’d always had a self-punishing streak.
Callum’s turning became more intense and his quiet sounds turned to audible, yet indecipherable mutter, fear and regret in every broken syllable. She hated it when they came, sometimes she slept through it like he asked, but more often than not she refused to leave him to face them alone, and he did the same for her.
‘It’s what you do in a team.’ He’d say, before launching into some extended metaphor based around unnecessarily abstract concepts she’d never heard of let alone would understand. While she’d end up having to stop him, remind him that they did not share the same life experience, the original sentiment stuck with her. It was sweet.
She tried to shake him by his shoulder, hoping that this once she might finally stir him before he came upon the climax of his mind’s self-constructed tortue. But Bridgette failed. His muttering grew louder and louder until, he shot upwards, eyes wide, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, his gaze set forward, the apology not meant for her or anything that still lived. For a moment she laid there, looking up to him as one of the twin moons shone through the window, casting its glow over him and exposing the litany of scars and burns that covered much of his skin. His breathing began to calm, and eventually he turned his head towards her.
“Did I wake you?” Her husband asked, more worried he might have disturbed her own rest than concerned with what he had just seen.
“No, no I woke up on my own.” She assured, sitting up beside him, bringing the covers back up over him. Bridgette had work in the morning yes, giving standardized tests to an entire school no less, but she had nowhere she would have wanted to be other than awake next to him. They needed each other.
“The Alexandria one again?” The once-soldier questioned, his arm looping around her. He’d somehow managed to figure out when she had the recurring nightmare, crediting something to do with enhanced perception. A bogus claim, considering Callum’s perceptiveness was comparable to that of a tree. Regardless she nodded, leaning into him quietly.
“It wasn’t your fault, he’d never blame you.” She assured him, having long since learned to attribute the quiet apology with a boy like himself who he’d taken under his wing. More than his experience at Pegasi, or Reach, or anywhere, Jamison seemed to haunt the him the most.
The way Callum saw it, only Jamison had been his responsibility, his to teach and protect.
He nodded, pretending to agree like he always did as to not continue the conversation. She didn’t pry, uninterested in exposing the nerve at this time of night, but Bridgette’s hand did stretch out to stop the Spartan as he moved to get up.
She was well aware physically it wouldn’t stop him, but the gesture was always enough.
“Just need to check the perimeter.” He insisted desperately.
“No, you need to sleep.”
“Bail I jus-”
“Callum, we are safe, nothing is going to be out there.”
“Just in c-”
“The last crime committed here was the Petrov’s orchard being robbed of a whole four apples Callum, by three of my students, who immediately tried to return them.” She insisted, wearing away his stubborn commitment to wandering their property with an assault weapon at this time of night.
“Just need to keep you safe.” He muttered, eyes heavy with equal parts guilt and determination to never fail anyone in his world again. She sighed and ushered him to lay back down as she did, coming back to rest on their pillows.
“Then stay here.” She ordered, Callum nodding slightly in response. 
Closing her eyes she let herself go back to sleep, another night they’d been there for one each other complete, one more set of nightmares overcome. Still, as she slipped into unconsciousness, Callum’s eyes remained wide open, his mind obsessively recounting his every failing.
And reminding him of the one thing he’d done right, which lay quietly against him fast asleep.
Category:The Weekly