3rd Person POV

  Adam sat up in bed, waiting until the tremors in his limbs eased enough to stand.

  He rose carefully, still unsteady, and padded quietly to Nickie’s room.

  After a soft knock and no answer, he opened the door and stepped inside.

  She was asleep.

  Her breathing was soft, steady, and the sight of her curled up beneath the blanket wrapped him in something warm. Comforting.

  His body stopped shaking. He exhaled slowly.

  He knelt beside her bed.

  He was supposed to wake her.

  Ask her to lock up after him… but all he could do was stare at her face. He couldn’t look away.

  ‘She’s so pretty. I like the sound of her breathing. I want to touch her… just to feel her warmth.’

  His hand hesitantly moved towards her cheek, but then stopped halfway. He took a deep breath

  Instead, he carefully reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “Nickie… wake up. I g-gotta go,” he whispered, voice shaky.

  She stirred faintly. “Mmm… I’m awake… I’m… up,” she murmured, eyes still closed.

  Adam’s lips tugged into a soft smile. ‘So funny.’

  He wanted to let her sleep, to watch her relaxed face… but a feeling of horror suddenly made him shake to his core again.

  ‘Gotta get to David… Before it gets worse…’

  “Nickie…”

  “I’m up, I’m up…” she mumbled again, yawning.

  She let out a tiny snore.

  The warmth he felt tried to overcome the fear.

  ‘She's so cute... Wait. No. Stop it. Stop thinking that.”

  “Nick… sorry… I'm gonna help you up, yeah?”

  A soft groan. He considered that a yes.

  He gently took her hands and helped her sit up. She yawned again, long and sleepy.

  “It’s so early,” she grumbled, eyes barely open, hair falling messily over her face, eyeliner smeared down to her cheeks.

  ‘Beautiful…’

  Adam thought, his chest tightening.

  “I gotta go. Lock up after me, yeah?”

  “Haa… okay…” she mumbled, wobbling as she stood.

  She tripped on her slippers, and Adam caught her.

  For a moment, she was in his arms.

  Warm.

  Light.

  He didn’t want to let go.

  “Thanks…” she whispered, cheeks faintly pink.

  As he released her, something ached deep in his chest. A sharp sting bloomed there.

  He clutched his heart without thinking.

  “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” she asked with a sudden sharp concern on her face.

  “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

  Nickie paused for a moment.

  Adam didn't make eye contact.

  Then she unlocked the door, still watching him closely.

  “Wait, Adam-”

  She gently caught his wrist before he could flee.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her touch froze him. He didn’t want her to let go. He was terrified.

  ‘I gotta get out of here.’

  “See you later,” he muttered quickly and bolted, before she could say anything else.

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  Nickie stood in the doorway, worried and a little hurt.

  ‘Why is he running away from me?’

  ***

  I need Dave

  Adam ran, pretending the pounding in his chest was from the effort.

  He ran until his lungs burned, until every muscle begged him to stop. If he had the breath, he would’ve screamed.

  ‘What am I gonna do?

  Why won’t it let me go?’

  Nickie’s face flashed in his mind.

  How close she’d been just moments ago.

  Her warmth. Her voice.

  ‘I could’ve held her longer… I wanted to.

  I want to hold you. I want to be close to you.

  But every time I do... I feel like I’m doing something wrong. Something selfish... And fear… So much fear… If we get close, it’s gonna keep happening… and I’ll end up hurting her…’

  That thought was unbearable.

  His legs gave out somewhere along the path home, down in the quiet valley where no one could hear.

  Adam dropped to his knees and sobbed.

  Ugly, aching sobs.

  The kind that scraped his throat raw.

  ‘It’s getting worse’.

  More memories, more panic. More fragmented thoughts.

  ‘I want to be with you so badly… but I’m so fucked up I don’t even know how deep it goes. I don’t even know what’s broken anymore. I just know…

  I’ll ruin it.

  Like anything I touch.’

  And still, through the guilt, through the storm in his chest, he wanted her.

  Wanted her more than anything.

  ‘I need David.’

  ***

  Hellhole of a Mind

  Adam reached home barely standing, each step feeling heavier than the last.

  His legs moved like they were made of lead, and his chest was hollow, scraped clean of anything but exhaustion.

  Shaky and quiet, he pushed the door open and made his way to David’s room.

  David was still asleep, his breathing slow and even in the dark.

  Adam didn’t say a word.

  He simply climbed into the bed beside him, careful not to wake him, curling inward like a shadow trying to disappear.

  His trembling slowed.

  The warmth of his brother’s presence steadied something deep in his chest.

  Before he even realized it, sleep pulled him under.

  ***

  Nightmare \ Memory | Adam’s POV (Trigger Warning: Abuse)

  Hands. So many hands.

  Touching. Grabbing. Smothering.

  I can’t see. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

  Laughter. Mocking. Sadistic.

  Echoes somewhere far off.

  Muted. Distant. Like I’m underwater.

  One, two, three, four, five of them.

  Ten hands.

  Too many.

  My body isn’t mine.

  It never is, not here.

  I’m making sounds: whimpers, cries.

  But I can’t hear them.

  It’s like my voice doesn’t exist.

  And that’s somehow worse than screaming.

  It’s quiet. It’s lonely. It’s unbearable.

  Stop touching me.

  Stop touching me.

  Stop touching me.

  Let me breathe without hurting.

  Air. Please.

  Just for a little while.

  I swear I’ll be good…

  Just please… stop...

  ***

  “Adam! Adam!”

  David’s voice sliced through the dark.

  Suddenly I’m gasping, lungs heaving like I’ve been underwater.

  My body bolts upright.

  I’m shaking… hard.

  My shirt clings to me, soaked with sweat.

  My heart’s trying to punch through my ribs.

  I’m not there.

  I’m not there.

  But my skin says otherwise.

  “You were having a bad one,” David says softly. His voice is calm, steady, anchoring. “You okay?”

  Tears stream down my face before I realize I’m crying.

  “Ugh… Bad… No… I…” My voice catches on itself, splintered and raw.

  “Shh,” David murmurs. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  His voice is low, warm.

  No judgment. Just care.

  It helps.

  It doesn’t fix anything, but it helps.

  “Can I hold you?” His voice is a bit shaky. He’s worried.

  I nod… barely.

  I can’t form words, but I trust him.

  I trust him.

  He pulls me into his arms, guiding me back down to the bed.

  His hand rubs slow circles on my back, grounding me like only he can.

  “You’re okay, baby bro,” he whispers over the ragged sobs.

  “You’re safe. I’ve got you. It’s over now.”

  His voice becomes a rhythm. A mantra.

  The warmth of his chest, the strength of his arms…

  I cling to them like a lifeline.

  Eventually, the tremors fade.

  My breath evens out.

  And this time, when sleep returns, it’s softer.