Tangled Up in Blue

Nightmare

Keegan

Something wakes me up.

I stare into the darkness, trying to remember where I am.

A thin stream of light is coming through nearby window blinds, and after a moment, I can make out a stained ceiling above me. 

Then it hits me: it's Blue's ceiling; Blue's window; Blue's bedroom. 

I fell asleep in here on Blue's bed, as he sang to me.

Shit.

When I turn my head, I see him stretched out on the floor. 

He must've fallen asleep in here, too, instead of going to my room.

He's tossing and turning, moaning in his sleep. 

He cries out, and I sit up, wondering what to do.

When Blue moans again, I scramble toward him, crouching on the floor next to him. His eyes are closed, but in the dim light, I can see his eyeballs shifting back and forth.

"No!" he calls out, whipping his head from side to side. "No, God, no!"

"Blue," I whisper.

I'm not sure what else to say, or even whether I should try to wake him up.

But after a moment's hesitation, I place a careful hand on his arm.

"Blue," I say again.

His eyes snap open, and he stares at the ceiling for a second like he has no idea where he is. 

Just like I did.

Then he looks over at me, and the shame that spreads over his face almost makes me cry.

"Fuck," he groans, rolling to his side and sitting up with his back to me, burying his face in his hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"  A shudder passes through his body as Max starts whining from the bed.

"Blue?"

After a moment, he lets out another groan and drags his fingers down his face as he turns toward me.

"It was just a dream," I say. "You were having a nightmare. It's okay."

He gives me a look I don't understand, then jumps to his feet and begins to walk in a circle, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Goddamn it," he grits out, plowing his fingers through his hair.

"Blue, it's okay. It's not a big deal."

Max has his head on his paws, and he's still whining. Obviously, Blue's distress is affecting him.

I come to my feet and walk over to the bed, running a soothing hand over the dog's head. 

"It's okay, buddy," I whisper.

Blue is still turning circles. But then he walks over to the bed and sits on Max's other side. 

The three of us stay frozen there for a moment.

Blue is staring at the dog, but by the expression on his face, I'm pretty sure he is seeing something else.

"Are you okay?" I ask, still whispering.

After a long moment, he nods.

But then he lets out a shaky breath, and without really intending to, I lift my hands to cradle his face.

When I touch him, Blue clenches his eyes shut as if he's in pain and curls his fingers around my wrists.

I'm expecting him to pull my hands away; instead, he just sits there, head bowed, holding on to me.