Waking up suddenly,I’m confused and unsure why. Not knowing what time it is, I check my phone, which is on the nightstand next to me. It’s after three in the morning. Why would I be awake right now?
Then I hear it.
The screaming.
That must be what woke me up, but where is it even coming from?
It happens again, only louder this time. It’s coming from Luca’s room.
I shoot off the bed and out my door. I’m through his before I can even think of anything else. He’s on his bed, moving erratically and making noise, but he’s clearly still asleep.
He must be having a nightmare.
He said he hasn’t had one of those in years, though.
Unsure of how to handle someone while they’re having a nightmare, I go over to him tentatively and get on the bed next to him.
“Luc, wake up… Luca, can you hear me?”
I shake him a little, trying to coax him awake as gently as I can.
“Luca, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
His eyes pop open, wide and frantic, face ashen, hair slicked to his forehead from sweat, and his entire body is trembling. He’s looking right at me, but it’s like he’s not seeing me. His eyes seem to focus a little more, but the haunted look in them remains. He grabs on to my arm with so much force, I almost fall on top of him.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’m right here. It wasn’t real, it was only a nightmare.”
“Branson,” he cries out while holding me even tighter. My heart breaks for him in this moment. He looks so helpless and lost.
Doing the only thing I can think to do, I pull him into me. Brushing my fingers through his hair, rubbing his back, I try to comfort him. “It’s okay. Shh… I’m here. I’m here for you, always.”
We lie there like that for a while—me petting his hair and rubbing his back, and him holding on to me for dear life. He mumbles something into my chest that I can’t quite make out.
“What was that?”
“I said you’re always there for me. Thank you,” he croaks. His voice is rough and broken.
“You don’t need to thank me. We’re family. I’ll always be there for you.”
“But I love you, Bran.”
Before I can even process that, he’s out.
We stay like that the rest of the night, as he snores softly next to me while I’m lost in thought, wondering where his nightmares come from. Managing to untangle myself from him around seven in the morning, I go back to my own room. Maybe he won’t remember me coming in.
God, I hope so.