Nightmares
“Just go to sleep. Everything will be a little better if you get some rest,” The soothing words of the nurse were the last thing Anna heard before she drifted to sleep, comforted by the blankets surrounding her and the numbing effect of the medication. Dreams soon followed her surrender to sleep, consisting of a combination of her childhood fantasies as well as her innermost desires. Dreams of warmth and love filled her head with one man at the forefront of said dreams. He was cuddling with her on the couch, sharing his body heat in an attempt to keep her warm as they watch Cinderella together. Dreams of her and William finally able to leave the hospital, finally able to be together in the real world. She sighed happily in her sleep, content with her dream world.
However, as the numbing effect of her morphine wore off and the pain returned, as did the memories from the night before, tainting her dreams along with it. Anna could see Will walking towards her, hate evident in his eyes- and his heart. Trying to back away, to turn and run, to find any means of escaping, she found herself once again trapped against the wall of his room and braced herself for the pain she knew would soon follow. This nightmare infiltrated her senses as Anna thrashed about in her sleep, whimpering for help to anyone who would listen.
There was something clicking in his head. Some repetitive lull permeated by the snap of fingers. Each time, he imagined the flick of a wrist as the pads of fingers dispelled the air between them, dispelling his sanity one click at a time. Click, click, click. He twitched as he closed his eyes, forcing himself to try and come-to from this horrid nightmare, but his anxiety had reached dangerous levels where it rode him on a massive tidal wave of pain and panic, mesmerizing him in a manner entirely twisted.
He wrung his hands tightly, feeling his nails scrape him carelessly, his knuckles tense as he forced them around. The physical pain helped, but only enough to get him to understand Dr. London's words. Hurt, but stable. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. William blinked to gain his surroundings. He'd hurt her enough where she'd been sent to the infirmary. Stable... But was she okay? Stable meant she was probably some form of unstable at some point. A dark hole of aching suddenly engulfed him, causing him to black out.
When Will came into consciousness, he found himself in a world of white. White linens, white walls, white lights, white, white, white. He was out of breath and sticky with a cold sweat that stuck to the back of his neck. White. His hands were aching after being balled so tight, his palm knicked with little crescent shapes. White... And then color. Beautiful pale porcelain marred by angry red and puce. He was staring at the love of his life. Anneliese, laying in a comfortable pallet of blankets as she slept in the infirmary. With visible hesitation, William reached out to grip her twitching fingers, chanting to the gods in his head: please, please, please, please...
