Missing [ST]

Eight

Helpless cries of a baby had him stumbling around, and trying to gauge a direction that didn't lead to nothingness.

Confusing himself, he stepped back, hitting something solid with his heel. When he turned, a white cot lay in a new found light but there was no baby to hold in his arms; only cotton blankets and cuddly toys.

The crying became louder and he caved, leaving the light behind him to desperately find her. He ran and ran, but the maze of dead ends took him nowhere. Darkness enveloped him, a suffocation that deprived him from the air he desperately panted in and out, and like always he collapsed to his knees, defeated.

His shaking hands slammed against his ears but it wouldn't stop. It never stopped.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he screamed.

<>

Steven bolted upright, breathing heavily.

There was frantic eye movement to remind himself where he was, and his recovery was looking down at the bundled white and grey patterned duvet that had been kicked messily to the left side of his bed.

He should have known a nightmare would wake him up, although daylight was peeking around the edges of the curtains, and he needed a shower to cleanse the cold sweat on his chest

Steven didn't let the temperature adjust, a gasp escaping him with the shock, and he gladly welcomed the warm water when it arrived. He washed the nightmare away the best he could as well as the remainder of the address that was still inked on his forearm, and then tilted his chin upwards to try and relax to the rhythmic tumble of water that gushed down the front of his body.

There was no need to prolong his shower, and there were fresh, cream towels ready on the towel rail, one of which Steven used to wrap around his waist, and another to tackle the mop of wet hair on his head.

The mirror above the washbasin had steamed up, and impatience had his hand swiping over it so he could see his reflection.

Somehow, Steven felt and looked more tired after he had slept a few hours. Nightmares took a lot of energy from him since they were regular occurrences, and although he was a young man and could function with the aid of certain things, he felt his youth slowly slipping away. Soon, those dark rings under his eyes would be a permanent feature from ill-health, and all those lines just a little bit clearer.

Picking out a new razor, Steven could at least try to improve his appearance by smoothing shaving cream around his mouth to soothe the removal of the scruffy stubble that had accumulated in their normal patches.

His face was soft and clean with a bit of self-care and attention, and he found a comb to run through his tangled hair that he would blow dry for as long as needed to make sure it fluffed up correctly.

Dressing was the next thing, and really, Steven hadn't had a morning routine this deluxe for months, but he remembered he had no more clean clothes to spare.

As the only option he had, the towel around his waist remained, and he was going to have to venture downstairs to find something to wear.

<>

Unlike Steven's, the rest of Leah's night had been somewhat peaceful. It may have been out of complete exhaustion, but she had slept.

The utility room was a stark contrast to her previous captivity. The place was clean with its own facilities and after rummaging around, she managed to find a few blankets and used folded towels for a pillow. The floor was still hard, even with an attempt of padding, but it hadn't affected her shut-eye.