Aiden nodded at Sam’s suggestion of writing down what happened. Not that she thought she’d be forgetting the experience, but better safe than sorry. Setting down her mug on the table in front of her she stood, stretching.
“If you want you can go ahead and get the PS4 hooked up and going while I write stuff down. Get some practice in before Xiaoyu, Christie, and I kick your ass.”
The rest of the night passed like that, playing Tekken, chatting about their separate projects for the upcoming show, and Aiden found the aftermath of her nightmare forgotten. When she did finally get some sleep again she managed to get through it without waking up again.
The next night though… That was the night she knew that something was wrong, and it couldn’t have anything to do with her meds. She didn’t have another episode of paralysis, but she did wake up from a nightmare. One that she shouldn’t have had, not as clearly as she did.
The designer had only heard Sam’s story about what her uncle did to her once, the first night they were reunited. It was…horrifying, not something she would ever ask about again because she didn’t want her friend to have to relive it. It was bad enough she knew that nightmares about it plagued her, Aiden wasn’t about to bring it up during waking hours.
And yet that night she dreamt it. As clearly as if she’d been there, had been Sam herself. She’d woken up screaming, wishing for the images to stop but they didn’t. Not for hours. They lingered, replaying over and over in her mind’s eye.
While she sat up, unable to get back to sleep, she did a search in Google. She’d never seen a picture of Connor Kimbell, never knew what he looked like. It wasn’t hard to find old news pieces about his arrest, and her insides twisted when she realized that her dream was completely accurate. Her mind hadn’t just conjured up the nightmare from what Sam had told her. The face on the screen of her computer was the same one that had loomed over her in her sleep.
The moment that fact began to sink in she’d ran to her bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. Not only because of the nightmare itself, but the completely undeniable fact that she should not have been able to have it, and yet she had.
Come morning Sam came to pick her up for another visit to the museum. Her friend looked just as tired as she did. Aiden had thought over and over about whether she should bring up her nightmare or not. She still hadn’t decided, but wanted to make sure the other woman was OK at least.
To say that Sam had a shitty night was quite possibly the understatement of the century. The day had been good, she’d fallen asleep at Aiden’s, they’d slept in and then wasted the day (in the best way possible) by playing more video games. When night fell again, and once Aiden had assured her it was okay, she’d gone home to her own apartment, watched a little TV, and then gone to bed early. She knew she’d needed to be up early for another day of research on museum exploration, so it didn’t make sense to stay up too late.
Not that it wound up mattering.
Although Sam still had nightmares on occasion - usually when her anxiety was high or when she was feeling stressed about other things - they still weren’t overly common. Until that night, apparently. To top it off, normally Sam could wake herself up when ‘shit got real’ - but not this time. When she finally work up here nerves’ nerves were on edge. Thank god she kept meds on the nightstand because she wouldn’t’ve been able to get up to go get them from anywhere else in the apartment.
The rest of the night was spent up and awake. She wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon, and she refused to bother Aiden. Not when she knew her friend had a lot of researching planned... and when the other girl had gotten so little sleep the night before. Briefly, Sam mused on that... first Aiden’s nightmare and now her’s... but it couldn’t be anything but coincidence... right?
The next day... wasn’t easy. But she’d made a promise, so she’d showed up on time and offered her friend a wan smile. “Mmm... you could say that,” she replied to Aiden’s question. “I think I’m going to plop myself in the museum’s cafe, order three espressos, and possibly one of every pastry on the menu...” She hesitated. “Also... just a head’s up... today... may not be a good day anxiety-wise. I’ve got in under control for right now... and the meds are doing their job... but...y’know... just in case, I wanted you to be aware...”
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