*It's the middle of the night and Jack comes bursting into the theatre, panting. His eyes were red and his cheeks were streaked with tears that glinted in the moonlight.*
Medda! Miss Medda...
-@askk-jackkelly
Jack?
*She lets go of what she was doing, and turns to him right away, hands on his shoulders.*
What happened? Take a breath, kid, calm down.
*He threw himself into Medda's arms and gripped onto her, his knuckles white and shaking.*
Snyder, Medda, he's gonna get me! He's gonna get me, he already got Crutchie!...
*He sputtered between sobs and gasps for air. He was clearly out of it.*
Breathe, Jack.
Deep breaths, alright? Is Crutchie missing? Have you seen Snyder at all? You passing out doesn't help anyone, least of all you.
I can't!
Yes you can.
Nononono, Medda I- he's gonna hurt him...!
*The sound of something dropping from a nearby shelf made him flinch violently and yelp.*
He's here, he's gonna find me!
Jack. Jack, look at me. I'm gonna do what I can, but you need to calm down. You're not helping Crutchie like this.
*She looks over at the shelf.*
That shelf. I told them to not put heavy things on it.
Easy. Easy, you're okay. Snyder won't get you in here.
Yes he will!
No. I'm not about to let him come in here and take you. You hear me, Jack?
*She hugs him.*
*He's still trapped his head, everything wonky. He still firmly believes he' in the nightmare and he clings to Medda with feverish grip, sobbing almost hysterically.*
He's gonna get me...
*She holds him tight.*
No. No, he won't, Jack.
No one's gonna get you. No one.
*She rubs his back, trying to comfort him.*
( @askk-jackkelly )
*His shaking is intense and his breathing stays shallow but erratic, hyperventilating.*
Sit down. And breathe. Deep breaths, with me.
*She gently guides him to sit down, on a chair.*
It's okay, Jack. Take it slow.
*He refuses to let go of Medda, clinging onto her with a white-knuckled grip.*
I c- I can't...
*His breath keeps catching in his throat and he can't get a ful breath in. Every time he exhales, another breath forces itself in his lungs way too quickly.*
*She just stays calm, both hands on his cheeks.*
I'm here. You're safe.
( @askk-jackkelly)
*He grips onto Medda's arms, fighting with himself to breathe.*
Breathe in. Look at me.
*She takes a deep breath, holding it.*
*He looks at her, tears streaming down his face and eyes glossy. His breath was hitching in sobs, but he tries to match her and breathe in.*
*She exhales, slowly.*
Good.
*She wipes his tears with her thumb, seeing him like this breaks her heart.*
I can't...
*He whispers under his breath.*
Yes you can, Jack Kelly.
I know you can.
*She pulls him close, rubbing his back again, trying to just do what she can.*
I know you're scared, worried, and all of it. I know. I'm here. I'm right here, Jack. If that Snyder wants you, he'll have to go through me, and I promise, he can't have you.
*Jack buries his head into Medda's shoulder, practically vibrating with fear. His shoulders shake with sobs and he tries his hardest to breathe.*
*She reaches one arm out, stroking his hair, repeatedly, rubbing his back with the other, staying quiet, but calm.*
*He lifts his head just enough so his eyes dart around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings to try and register where he is.*
You're not there. You're in the theatre. You're in my theatre. See? That there is the backdrop ya made. The one folks love.
*His breathing starts to slow down, still fast, but he wasn't choking on his own breath and tears anymore.*
*She looks relieved.*
What happened, Jack?
Nightmare...
Tell me about it?
I was.. I was in the refuge, an- Snyder was gonna get me and it- it was real an' Crutchie wan't there, an'-
*She looks at him.*
It can feel real, but it wasn't. It isn't real.
*His sobs were slowing down, tears still pouring steadily over his cheeks.
I ain't....
I ain't there...
That's right. Where are you?
'M in da theatre...
*She nods.* Ain't no safer place, dear.
*He takes a deep breath.*
Think ya can sleep?
I don't wanna dream it again...
*She looks over at him, then grabs a paper.*
Draw. Just get all those thoughts out.
*He takes the paper starts making sketchy lines. His hands were shaky, translating onto the drawing, but as he kept going, the lines got steadier as the earlier fear started to leave him.*
*She watches him draw, quietly.*
Better?
*He nods, his breathing slowing.*
Keep drawing, Jack.
( @askk-jackkelly)
*He keeps drawing and slowly comes back into reality, tension lessening.*
*She watches.*
Is that better?
*He nods shakily and lets out a soft breath. His lines were steady and controlled, drifting seamlessly across the paper.*
Good.
*She smiles a bit.*