Vikk's P.O.V.
I stirred sleepily, attempting to pull the duvet around my shoulders a little more because it was cold. The blanket refused to come and I turned over, blinking a little in the dark as I tried to focus my eyes and see exactly what was stopping the duvet.
I smiled to myself when I saw the lump on my other side of the bed. It was Lachlan, firmly asleep with a rock iron grip on the duvet that I wanted back, and I sighed to myself.
"Lachlan...." I groaned, even if he couldn't hear me, "I want the duvet back..."
He still didn't release the blanket. I shuffled closer to him and gently reached over his back, pulling the blanket from his hold and curling up next to him. He was warm and I sighed happily.
I was almost asleep again when Lachlan started to shift, curling into a little ball, twitching and letting out little groans of pain and fear.
At first I ignored it. He tended to have very vivid dreams and it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to twitch a bit or make random noises and it normally calmed down after a few minutes as he fell back asleep. But then something that made me feel physically sick.
"No..." He groaned, tossing his head to the side. "No... get off me... stop..."
He had rolled himself on his back and I saw the pinched and pained look that was on his face. I felt my heart sink as he continued to twitch and groan, clearly a much more violent and unpredictable nightmare than normal and I was scared.
"No... stop! Let me go!" He started yelling and that was when I jumped into action, lifting his head from the pillow and trying to wake him up.
"Lachlan!!! Wake up baby! Wake up!" He barely stirred, still twitching and mumbling in his sleep. "Lachlan?"
I sat up in bed and shook his shoulder more violently, desperately trying to wake him before things became even worse. This time he seemed to respond because he stopped kicking and fighting the blankets and calmed down a little, his breathing slowing. I spoke up again.
"Lachy? Hey baby, it's okay, it's okay." His eyes cracked open a tiny amount and there was a few seconds pause before his chest heaved and he started to cry. I bundled him up into my arms and let him cry, feeling his body trembling against me.
His hand curled into a fist around my t-shirt and he hiccupped violently, making my heart pang. I hated it when he was upset and nightmares were the worst because they often took from real life and flipped it on its head, showing him things that weren't real. I placed one finger under his chin, raising his eyes to look at me.
"Are you okay?" He nodded numbly, burying his head back into my chest. "What was it about Lachy?" I kept my voice low and soft, letting him know that everything was okay.
"Him." He only to speak one word before I knew exactly what he was talking about and I felt sick. That was a common nightmare and possibly the worst one, because he was often physically sick afterwards and it took forever to calm him down afterwards.
"Oh baby..." I kissed him on the forehead gently, pulling him closer into my chest and holding him until he stopped shaking.
Once he had stopped shaking I looked around at the digital clock that glowed the time green in the darkness. 4:03. Far too early to be awake yet I knew there was no going back to sleep, especially not for Lachlan. He wouldn't be able to, try though he might.
I sat up in bed and let him rest his head against my chest, rocking side to side as he stared blankly across at the wall in the darkness. I started humming, the only thing I could do to break the tension that was as thick as mud and making me feel like I was drowning.
Deep in the meadow,
Lachlan smiled and closed his eyes, letting them flicker for a few seconds.
Under the willow,
A bed of grass,
A soft green pillow.
It was the only verse of the song that I knew so I hummed the same tune over and over for a few minutes until Lachlan finally drifted off in my arms, his face going slack.
"I love you Lachy. I hope one day that you can forget him."
------------------------------------------------------
"Vikk?" Lachlan tugged on my hand gently, his teeth biting down hard on his lip nervously.
"Yeah Lachy?" He blinked slowly, thinking for a few seconds before he tried to talk again. He opened his mouth but then closed it again, frowning. He couldn't quite find the right words to say. "Do you want to talk?" He nodded after some hesitation.
I took his hand pulled him up the stairs, out of sight of the others where we could be by ourselves. I could see his fingers trembling and it didn't take long before I started to get really worried about him. He didn't normally act like that.
We stepped into my room and I tugged him over to my bed, letting him settle himself against me before I tried to get him to speak. He was nervous, visibly, and it wasn't comforting.
"Are you okay?" He pushed his head into my neck and shook his head. "What's up baby?"
"It's him. He won't leave." I pulled him close. I could feel his hair tickling my neck as he breathed, his hands curling into fists around my t-shirt and his hesitation clear in the way he was acting. I did feel physically sick at the mention of him though.
"Oh Lachy... you said you would tell me if he ever came back." I obviously wasn't talking about him physically coming back, he was long dead, but the memories of him instead.
"I know... but... I- I can't... every time I think about him or- try to- talk about it... he keeps coming back. I can't get- get rid of him." He was crying, the memories far too much to handle, especially in a state where he couldn't think properly.
"Oh Lachlan..." I cuddled him close, resting my chin on the top of his head.
Even 4 years on and the memories hadn't faded, they were still as vivid and terrifying as if it had happened yesterday and it was taking its toll. I don't think he had ever slept through the night since that time, the fear creeping up and taking hold when his mind was the most vulnerable and squeezing until he choked.
Nothing seemed to help. Therapy, pills, even when he died the memories didn't fade and his fear didn't abide. The nightmares never ceased, the panic attacks and flashbacks didn't seem to go away.
He couldn't continue on his life, not when he couldn't leave the house because of his fear and could barely keep up YouTube with never more than a few videos up a week. He was the shell of who he used to be and although I used to have hope that he could come back, that hope was long lost.
All because of him.
I wished I could have gone back in time, accept the offer to go back early, not let him walk back early in the cold and wet hours of the morning all alone. If I had then maybe he never would have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, alone, cold and scared.
But I had to keep thinking forwards, about the future that I didn't think he head. Because of him.
Everything was because of him.
