don't get me wrong () prodigal son SLOW UPDATES

Forty Three

Chapter Forty Three:

A gasp echoed, and Theodora jumped awake. Malcolm was sat up, staring around the room wildly. He flipped his legs over the mattress and rubbed his eyes.

"Malcolm." She said groggily, matching his position on the other side of him. "I should've woke you up. I'm sorry—"

"It's not your job to make sure I sleep the night.  It's fine."

Theodora frowned, glancing at the clock. It had only been an hour and a half. "Why don't we go for a walk? Fresh air—"

"Please." He was up, tugging out two coats from his closet. He slipped into one and handed her the smaller one, "It's cold."

She took it and flipped it on, following him through the living room and down the stairs, finding themselves outside into the cold night.

Again, the streets were empty. Only lampposts that lined the sidewalks gave any light, a poor light at that. Everything was still covered in a blanket of darkness, and Theodora found herself moving closer to Malcolm as they walked down the street. She glanced at every alley they passed, and she shook her head at her foolishness. She couldn't be frightened to walk alone at night, that wasn't an option.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, kicking a small stone. It flew down the cement, bouncing and rolling off onto the black tar. "Any better?"

"Not really."

They turned a corner, and she moved a tinge closer. Most streetlights were out on this street, and for some reason everything suddenly felt more ominous. Malcolm stopped, leaning his head to the side. "What?" Theodora whispered, moving behind him.

He said nothing, only crossed to the other side of the street towards a parked beige station wagon. "What are you doing?" She questioned, still following. He approached the back of the car, where a large dog peaked out from under a white blanket. Malcolm leaned his head to the side, seconds later he turned and began calling for help.

"Malcolm!" She hushed, as he waved his arms. She held them down, "It's only a dog. Look—"

"Hey, get away from my car!" A voice shouted, causing Malcolm to jump back. He took another look at the trunk and nodded slowly, shouting an apology. "I-I-I'm sorry. I..."

Theodora pulled him away, "I just need sleep." He muttered.

"This isn't working." She told him, turning around. "We're going back to your apartment."

He said nothing once again, just let Theodora guide him back to his place. Once returned he only sat himself down on the edge of his bed and rubbed at his eyes, the same place she found him when she first arrived.

"What aren't you telling me?" She asked walking towards him, "About your nightmares."

"They're more vivid." He said quickly.

"How so?"

"It feels like I'm there. In that moment. It doesn't feel like a dream—" His voice cracked, "That's all I ever see anymore when I close my eyes."

Theodora pursed her lips, sitting next to him, not having any idea on what to do or say. She took a deep breath, "Do they just come to you or is it prior thoughts that initiate them?"

"I don't know."

She turned and faced him, "I want to help you so badly, Mal." She said, "I-I just don't know how."

"I know you do." He frowned, sighing.

"It's..." she trailed off, not bothering to finish her thought. He glanced at her, "Gonna get better?"

Theodora shook her head, "That's why I didn't even finish my sentence."

A soft chuckle, "We both know that's not true."

She fell back on the bed, closing her eyes. "We'll get through this, Mal."

He laid down next to her, grabbing her and pulling her close. He said nothing, only took a deep breath.

"I—"

"Don't say anything." He mumbled, "Just stay close to me."

"Theodora! Where do you think you're going?"

A little Theodora turned, glancing back at her worried looking mother. She stood amongst the passing crowds, walking forward to catch her. But Theodora had her eyes set on a carnival game, a giant black and white Dalmatian stuffy calling to her. Five year old Theodora didn't care about her mother's shouts, she was going to get the stuffed animal one way or another. She'd been trying to win a little friend every year at the carnival, but she'd always leave with nothing.

Theodora was almost there, reaching an arm out just when a little boy went tumbling into her. She fell to the ground with a yelp, staring against the blinding sun.

"Malcolm!" A man's voice boomed, "You need to watch where you are going!"

Hands wrapped around her, lifting her body into their arms. Jay Fletcher held her daughter close, checking for any dirt or scratches. "Are you alright, honey?"

She nodded, glancing at the little boy who stood tall next to the man. As if trying to mimic his actions, he never wavered.

"I'm sorry." The boy said, "I didn't mean to run into your daughter, Mrs."

Theodora wiggled in her mother's hands, the stuffed Dalmatian just within reach.

"It's okay." Her mother smiled at the bearded, well dressed man, giving his son a small wave. "You both have a nice day."

As soon as they disappeared into the crowd, Jay put her daughter down and stared at her face. Theodora refused to make eye contact, looking for the strange boy.

"Look at me." A gentle hand moved her small face to meet her mother's gaze. "Do we want this to happen again, Dora?"

Theodora shook her head, not opening her mouth.

"I know you don't. So, you need to stay close to me, alright? Stay close to me."

Theodora's eyes flew open, "Stay close to me." She repeated, sitting up.

It was still dark outside, but the clock read it was early morning, almost seven am. Malcolm was sound asleep next to her, and she slipped from his grasp and wandered into the kitchen. She leaned against the island, the cold counter feeling nice against her hot skin.

Her eyes closed and a flash of her mother crossed her mind. Theodora shook her head, ignoring the burn from her eyes.

"Stay close to me."