[ emma's hit with an odd sense of relief when faraday settles back onto the bed with her, just sitting on the edge; he's close, but not too close, and for now that's...that's enough. she's not alone, which has been one of the absolute worst parts of losing matthew — she's had no one there with her to help her cope with these nights, the bad ones, and though she's determined to make it through on her own, that she doesn't need anyone because of how damn proud she is...
sometimes, she needs someone, and it's just plain harder to force herself through these nights pretending that she's fine. she's always appreciated the times faraday has woken her from less serious dreams, because she knows that it's been obvious when she's struggled, but...she's managed to keep him from witnessing this magnitude of night terror, and this has added a new level of reality to the seriousness of her nightmares.
she listens as he speaks, almost shocked that he's elaborating on the otherwise ignored concept. they were both vividly aware of the nightmares they each suffered, but they never delved into them, never talked about them, and she just keeps her eyes fixed on faraday, on his face. she takes in the way his lips move, the small changes in his expression, and the level of focus is soothing in its own odd way, like it gives her something to fixate on that doesn't happen to be the memories tugging at the back of her mind. she worries that if she sleeps again now, she'll just drop right back into the nightmares with little to no reprieve, and she can't face that yet.
not yet. ]
They do feel— so awfully real.
[ it's a quiet admission, and she can't quite look faraday in the eyes when she says it, even if he's also just copped to it. ]
Like I can't get away, and I just— I don't rightfully know what I ought to do.
[ she slides her hand up into her hair, letting her forehead fall against her knees. she feels helpless with these nightmares, because she has no control of them, no control of what her mind forces her to relive, and it's driving her to these miserable nights that often end with her staying awake until morning. ]
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sometimes, she needs someone, and it's just plain harder to force herself through these nights pretending that she's fine. she's always appreciated the times faraday has woken her from less serious dreams, because she knows that it's been obvious when she's struggled, but...she's managed to keep him from witnessing this magnitude of night terror, and this has added a new level of reality to the seriousness of her nightmares.
she listens as he speaks, almost shocked that he's elaborating on the otherwise ignored concept. they were both vividly aware of the nightmares they each suffered, but they never delved into them, never talked about them, and she just keeps her eyes fixed on faraday, on his face. she takes in the way his lips move, the small changes in his expression, and the level of focus is soothing in its own odd way, like it gives her something to fixate on that doesn't happen to be the memories tugging at the back of her mind. she worries that if she sleeps again now, she'll just drop right back into the nightmares with little to no reprieve, and she can't face that yet.
not yet. ]
They do feel— so awfully real.
[ it's a quiet admission, and she can't quite look faraday in the eyes when she says it, even if he's also just copped to it. ]
Like I can't get away, and I just— I don't rightfully know what I ought to do.
[ she slides her hand up into her hair, letting her forehead fall against her knees. she feels helpless with these nightmares, because she has no control of them, no control of what her mind forces her to relive, and it's driving her to these miserable nights that often end with her staying awake until morning. ]