Book II - ch 17: A Nightmare Called Reality

* * *

Darkness filled the room. Sarah reached for the light, uncaring about Robyn’s complaints, worrying only about not getting her hand stuck in the charger cord.

Never mind the light switch, the wall wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

A familiar sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She pressed her eyes shut, trying to put the world back to normal by force of will.

She was on a bed, but it wasn’t her bed. She was afraid to search behind her to find the wall. It had been a while since she had that particular nightmare, with the sterile-looking room and the locked door.

Sliding her hand against the cold tiles, she found the light switch.

Tears overflowed onto her cheeks. Her head was pounding, making it harder to think.

It wasn’t the home she was hoping for, but it also wasn’t the sterile room. It was a different, better room, but it was still the same nightmare.

But why did this room feel so familiar? Was this where she belonged?

She couldn’t possibly belong here.

Sarah bolted for the door, pulling at the doorknob to no avail. She kicked the door, pain spiking in her foot.

Pain was real, wasn’t it? So this was real?

She stared at her toes, counting each one, focusing on where her feet touched the floor. It all looked so real. But if this was real and this was her room, the door shouldn’t be locked.

She wiped at her eyes, trying the door again. As if recognizing its earlier mistake, this time it opened.

Sarah stepped out into the empty hallway.

Home. She wanted to go home.

Her feet started moving on their own.

Home?

Robyn! Where was Robyn?

She sped up, all but running. Was Robyn here?

But Robyn shouldn’t be there—should she?

A bloody scene flashed through her mind, Robyn lying dead before her. Memory or nightmare, she couldn’t tell.

She pulled away her collar, feeling around for the scar. If she’d been shot, there should be a scar. And if that were real, then the rest of it would be too.

She came to a stop at the end of the hallway, where it branched out into two. Hands that were too wet to wipe any more tears felt around, but found no evidence of a scar.

How long did it take for scars to heal?

She started moving again, looking back as if expecting to be pursued. Would this be when she died then? Was this when Robyn came to kill her? Or was she home, unable to wake up from this nightmare?

It was impossible to rid herself of the conflicting feelings, but every step made this place more real and her home less so.

Her fists clenched until fingernails were digging into flesh. But even the pain—sharp and dull at the same time—didn’t pull her out of it. Could her mind be tricking her into feeling pain?

Her head felt like it was exploding.

She needed a starting point. A single thread that was strong enough and real enough to pull everything else into place.

Without knowing, she’d come to a stop outside one of the many doors. All doors here looked the same, so why did this one feel special?

She banged on the door, only remembering she looked like a mess when she heard the lock click.

“Tell me this is real,” she choked out, done with any pretense of being fine. “Tell me you’re real.”

Pegasus wrapped his arms around her, no trace of laughter in his voice. “I’m real.”

She clutched at his shirt as she cried. Could she trust this? Was this the thread of real she could follow? Was he that thread?

“I had a nightmare,” she confessed, finding comfort in his embrace. “When I woke up, I wasn’t sure I was awake. I’m still not sure.”

“This isn’t a dream.”

His words, a strange echo from some forgotten dream, felt like a bucket of icy water.

“Do you believe me?” he asked when there was no reaction from her.

Despite her lingering uncertainties, she nodded her head against his chest.

It was a wonder Pegasus hadn’t simply rolled his eyes at her and shut the door in her face, especially with the way she’d been avoiding him lately.

She hugged him tighter, closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nothing to do with the present.

“Sarah…”

She froze, blood turning to ice within her veins for the second time tonight.

“Sarah!”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

She pulled away from him slowly, almost afraid to look. Whoever that was, it wasn’t Pegasus. The boy was a couple of years younger, dark hair cut short and brown eyes the color of chocolate.

“Where were you just now?” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms as if to ward off the cold—she didn’t think the cold could be blamed for her shivering.

She stepped back until she hit the wall. The world shifted again in the blink of an eye.

“Sarah? Are you alright now?” Pegasus asked.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stop from screaming, but she coughed out a sob. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Was she still dreaming? If this was all a dream, then what was real?

Pegasus approached her slowly, as if she were a feral cat. He outstretched a hand to pull her closer, but she didn’t dare separate from the wall—it felt like a good enough constant for the moment.

The boy with the chocolate-colored eyes furrowed his brows. “What the hell is the matter with you? And don’t say nothing, you walked over here in your pajamas!”

Sarah wasn’t planning on saying anything—she had this thing about not talking to strangers.

The world shuddered, and the door opened to reveal Pegasus.

A worried frown formed as soon as he saw her. “What’s wrong?”

There were so many things so horribly wrong, she didn’t even know where to start.

Concluding there was no emergency, he stepped aside to let her in. Sarah entered his room with hesitant steps, all but expecting to be back out in the hallway, the starting point of this little momentary insanity.

“Start with whatever’s troubling you. It’s obvious something’s wrong,” he said, reminding her of the other boy.

Sarah swallowed back her first question about whether this was real, refusing to repeat the earlier—imagined?—conversation. Mouth opening as no sound came out, she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Did it even matter if he told her this was real if he were a dream as well?

Tugging at her collar, she felt around the intact skin below her collarbone. “I can’t find the scar.”

No matter how much she scratched at the skin with her fingernails, she couldn’t find it.

Pegasus suddenly grabbed her hands, forcing her to stop. He led her into the bathroom, turning her to face the mirror as he stood behind her. “Excuse me.” He drew her collar out of the way.

The air escaped her in one short breath.

There it was. A round, crater-like scar. She ran a fingertip over the irregular design. Fresh tears wet her eyelashes.

If this was real…

Then Robyn…

Mom and Dad…

Pegasus squeezed her shoulders gently. She looked up at his reflection, meeting his eyes.

This was real.

“I wish I could say you don’t have to talk about it, but that’s not how it works.” Contrary to his words, his voice was gentle. “Whatever it is has obviously gotten to you, so you need to talk to someone. If not me or Athena, someone else.”

It wasn’t that she was unwilling to speak to him. Everything had become such a mess. Staring at the scar as if it could be her focus point, Sarah felt her mind progressively settle.

“I’ve been having nightmares.” She could have laughed. How many times would she have to tell him? “Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m dreaming even when I’m awake.”

“Is that what happened tonight?”

She nodded.

“Has it happened before?”

“Not like this.”

“Then it has.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a long exhale turning to warm air on the back of her neck. “Have you been seeing Robyn like on the mission the other day?”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. She wished she could say it wasn’t too bad, but she still wasn’t entirely sure this conversation was real.

“This was something you should’ve told us as soon as it happened. And you shouldn’t be out in the field for now. Is that why you told Athena you weren’t ready to go back?”

She nodded. “It wasn’t like this before. They were mostly dreams or stuff when I was still half asleep. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“I’m not saying you are.”

“But?”

“But maybe your brain got fried somewhere along the way.” He pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t hide the mischief in his eyes. “I’m not sure anyone would’ve noticed the difference.”

“You have a twisted sense of humor, you know that, right?” But she’d smiled.

“Yeah.” He reached for her hand, pulling it away so she’d stop poking at the scar.

“Is there any possibility where I’m not crazy?”

He offered her a tissue. “Anything’s possible.”

“That’s not at all comforting.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you’ve had too much on your mind. And being here is obviously its own sort of disturbing. But there’s something that needs to be worked out and I don’t think you can do that on your own.”

She dabbed at her eyes gingerly. The skin already felt raw.

“Are you alright to move into the other room?”

Sarah nodded. Most of the confusion in her mind had settled now.

Pegasus took her to sit down on the couch and handed her another tissue. He then gave her a glass of water. As Sarah drank, she watched him search underneath papers and inside drawers for something.

“I thought I had chocolate somewhere.”

She chuckled. “What am I, a kid with a skinned knee?”

“You don’t like chocolate?”

“I never said that.”

Pegasus shook his bed covers in the air, but nothing fell away.

She put the half-finished water down on the table. “So what now?”

“Well, you’re already grounded. We’ll inform Zeus of what’s been happening, and Athena and Doc Blue will turn your brain inside out. Depending on what they find, it might be permanent.”

“And then what? If there’s something wrong with me, will I have to leave here?” Fear snuck into her words. It surprised her how much she wanted to stay.

Pegasus pulled a chair over and took a seat facing her. “No matter what’s going on, we’re not abandoning you. You won’t have to leave unless you want to.”

“What’s the worst case scenario? I get permanently reassigned to the cleaning staff?”

He tapped a finger on the armrest. “I’d think the worst case scenario would be a brain tumor.”

“Schizophrenia.” She didn’t think of herself as particularly paranoid, but the seeing things that weren’t there might fit. She wasn’t an expert on these things. Hell, she could be having a nervous breakdown—did hallucinations come with those?

“Whatever it is, we’ll help you figure it out. Nobody’s just gonna throw you out onto the street or put a bullet through your head.”

“Why did I imagine that second one in Scorpion’s voice?”

Without warning, he kneeled in front of her. His smile dissolving, he took her hand, undoing the fist she hadn’t realized she’d still been making. He didn’t look up from her hand, massaging the marks her nails had left in her palm in silence.

Sarah made no move to pull her hand away. She might not admit it aloud, but she found comfort in his touch. His thumb started tracing the all-too familiar rhythm along her wrist.

“I want to ask you if you’re really alright, but I don’t feel like getting punched,” he whispered, still not looking up at her.

“You can ask if you want to.” She made no promises about answering. She wasn’t sure she knew the answer.

As if he’d guessed that much, he didn’t ask.

Sarah leaned back and closed her eyes, trying not to think about any of it. She wanted to let him help her, wanted to trust that he would. But was it even about trust? Her eyes snapped open.

“Do you report everything I tell you to Zeus?”

What was that again about not being paranoid?

There was only a slight interruption in the movement of his fingers against her skin. “Everything you tell me that’s not crazy?”

She nodded, trying to resist the urge to pull her hand back now.

“Where’s that coming from?”

“Clay told me he was asked to keep an eye on me at the academy and report back to Zeus.”

He stopped, but didn’t let go of her hand. “And you wonder if that’s what I’m doing.”

Sarah couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. She hadn’t expected to see him hurt. “I don’t know. I’m tired of thinking.”

He gave her hand a squeeze to get her attention back. Once she met his gaze, Sarah felt as if he held her there by sheer intensity. “The only time I’ll ever betray your confidence is if I believe you’re putting us or yourself at risk.” Then his gaze softened, voice but a whisper. There it was, that same vulnerability from the other day, when she shoved him away. “Is that good enough?”

Sarah squeezed his hand. How could she say it wasn’t when he was looking at her like that?

There was so much she needed to find a way to put into words and couldn’t. “About the other day, when you… and I pushed you…”

“Sarah.” A smile played on the edge of his lips as he kissed the back of her hand. “That’s not important right now. We have plenty of time to talk. For now, all I need you to know is that I’m here for you.”

She returned his smile, squeezing his hand tighter. What would she do without him?