The Difference Between Fear and Terror

Untitled Part 14

Sean's POV

I stay in the room under the pretense of having doctor things to do. Well I guess it is kind of true. Healing is a doctor thing, and I am in here attempting to heal my heart.

When Kota called me to the closet I didn't know what to expect. Whenever anyone calls for me it isn't a good thing. Well, it was kind of a good thing he called for me, because it meant we found her. It also a bad thing, because it meant she was hurt. 

Shattered. As soon as I pulled the hood off, that is what I saw. She just looked so fragile, so broken. I can count her ribs, her hip bones jutted out, her elbow was the thickest portion of her arm. She is thinner than a model. As much as I want just to shove food at her face to make her healthy again, we can't. 

I'm scared. I'm scared of losing her in any capacity. What if she blames us for her kidnapping? What if she never heals and pushes us away forever?

She's alive. Her response was stated like a question, like she didn't know if she was. She doesn't trust us. She won't look us in the eyes. She lost her ability to respond. She looks at us whenever she moves.

I don't think she realizes it, but she keeps looking over at the door, expecting someone to come in. She looks at us like we are going to be mad at her if she moves, which is rarely. 

I've never seen someone so shattered. For all we know she has spent the whole of the pat year in darkness, in silence. The marks on her body have shown she has gone through hell. 

She whimpers. I am lost as to what I should do. She pulled away from North's touch, so i know not to comfort her by embrace.

"Stop it," she cries out, "make it stop." If I could I would. She continues to plead. I perch on the side of her bed. "Come back Pookie, Come on back, your okay, Wake up sweetie." She gives out a strangled screech and begins to thrash. "Stop it. Please stop. Please." She suddenly stops and sits up, ramrod strait, panting. The look in her eyes gives away her pain. She looks terrified.

That look on her  breaks my heart. If I had the choice to release her of it but take it on for myself, I would. I wish that was an option.

She looks at me with question in her eyes. "Why are you in here?" She seems confused by my presence. "I was being a good doctor. Good doctors always look after their favorite patients. Is that not allowed?" I ask jokingly. Owen, I may have fund a rival in you for world's smallest smile.

She scoots up on the bed, crossing her legs underneath her. I take the opportunity to move across from her, adopting the same position. Now we can see eye to eye. 

"What was the nightmare about?" I ask in a gentler tone than I ever had before. I place my hand on top of her's. She flinches, but I don't move. She needs to relearn that we aren't going to hurt her. We need to rebuild her trust in us. "F-fire." 

I don't push her for anymore. Her vague answer tells me that she doesn't want to talk. But that isn't an option, that is only self destructive. 

"Pookie, I unfortunately, have to go play doctor. I'll see you later." 

Once out in the hallway I motion for North to follow me in the other direction. "What's wrong with Sang baby?" I rub my temples. "Nightmare, that's why I'm talking to you." 

"What do you want me to do?" He looks so lost, drowning with worry. "See if you can get her to open up to you about it." He bites his thumbnail. I haven't seen him do that in years. "What if she won't?" I sigh, hoping that this works. "Then we call in Mr. B, then a therapist." He nods nervously in agreement. Since Sang pulled away from him he has been a wreck. He took it personally even though Dr. Roberts had warned us. 

"Just no yelling. Be gentle. If you think you are going to freak out, make an excuse to come out into the hall."