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“No…”
Emily blinked awake, groggy. She slowly flipped the other way on the bed, lazily staring at Jesse. But as Jesse whimpered, Emily became alert. “Jess, babe-“
“Dylan…” Jesse whined. Her body twitched, her brows furrowed. Now, Emily panicked.
“Jesse, hey, it’s okay-“
“Stop!” Jesse yelled, swinging her arms. The blonde shook her lover, almost violently. Still, Jesse did not wake. She didn’t know what else to do. Tears poured from her eyes as she held Jesse as tight as she could, restricting Jesse’s movement.
“Wake up,” Emily begged. “Please, Jesse, wake up!”
You’re okay. Wake up. Please. Please. Wake up.
“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” Emily murmured, scared. The redhead’s body trembled and shook, obviously shaking with night terrors. “It’s okay.”
Jesse gasped, clawing desperately at the bedsheets around her. She pushed Emily away, and in doing so rolled off of the bed. With a grunt, she quickly sat up and pushed herself against the small part of the wall under the window, panting and terrified. Unfortunately, Emily was no stranger to this reaction, having pulled Jesse through her PTSD attacks plenty of times before.
Unfortunately again, this one seemed like one of the worse ones.
“Jesse, hey,” Emily whispered, holding a hand out as if she was approaching a scared animal. Which, if she were being honest, Jesse truly was a terrified animal, ready to lash out at any threat. “It’s me. It’s Emily. You’re okay. You’re in New York, in our house. You’re safe.” Jesse visibly struggled with calming down, choking on shaky breaths and swallowing through her dry throat. Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, sweat rested on her bare arms, and her hair was down and sticking to her damp face. The woman’s eyes flickered frantically around the room, almost as if she was trying to figure out a way to escape. Her boxers and tank top were almost see-through due to all the sweat building up on her.
“E-“ Jesse gasped. “Em-ly.”
Okay, good.
“Yes, Emily, your wife,” the blonde nodded, pointing at herself. “You’re safe. You’re home.” She had learned that it was important to reiterate certain things to Jesse, like saying the redhead is in New York and safe. Jesse still shook, scared and confused, but her breathing luckily was slowing to a normal pace. “Dylan is just in the other room. Do you want me to go get him?” Jesse hesitated, her eyes flickering around. She reached up to Emily, making small grabby hands at her. The blonde slowly slid off the bed, careful not to spook her lover. She gripped Jesse’s hands and helped her up, holding her close. “It’s okay,” Emily whispered, stroking Jesse’s hair. “Come on.” Jesse nodded against her, separating just enough to walk without tripping over each other.
The two exited their room, walking a few feet to the next bedroom and opened the door. Luckily, Dylan was already awake, sitting up and scrolling through his phone. When he noticed the women, he quickly put his phone away and leapt up, holding Jesse.
“What happened?” He asked. Jesse latched onto her brother, crying hard.
“PTSD nightmare,” Emily answered. The redhead wheezed, grasping desperately at Dylan’s shirt. “Do you think she can stay in here for tonight? I don’t want her panicking again.” Dylan nodded, guiding his sister to his bed. Emily gazed on sadly while Dylan tucked her in. Jesse let out a small whine when Emily went to leave, causing the blonde to turn back. “What’s wrong, Jess?”
“Don’t leave.” Jesse whimpered, holding Dylan’s hand tightly. “Em, please stay.”
“I-“ Emily glanced at Dylan, who was still standing, refusing to let go of Jesse’s hand. “Are you comfortable with that?” The man looked down at his sister, brows furrowed in thought, then back up at Emily.
“I don’t want her to freak out either.” He finally told her. Dylan slid back under his covers, holding his sister close. “There’s enough room on the bed. I might be up for a while.”
“That’s okay.” Emily assured, walking to the bed and carefully positioning herself on the other side of Jesse. “Hey, it’s really late though. Why are you awake?”
Dylan glanced at Jesse, who had passed out by this point. “Jesse’s not the only one with trauma.”
Right.
“I know.” Emily whispered. “I know there’s only so much I can do. I know you don’t want pity. But, I want you to know that I’ll be here for you whenever you need it. I’ve got you, okay?” Dylan nodded, putting his phone on the nightstand and turning to hold Jesse. Emily did the same, her arms wrapping around Jesse and Dylan. “I love you both. So much.”
“Love you too.” Dylan murmured.
“Love… you…” Jesse slurred, tired. Emily smiled.
We’ll be okay.