The Devil Walks Among Us; Book l - Completed 4/21/22

Roses

September 2019

The night before the official beginning of autumn, Mia awoke in the middle of the night, her usual night sweats and terrors haunting her, even though she slept next to a person who was the cause of a lot of Haddonfield's residents' nightmares.

Shaking another chill from her body, she turned to her other side, her back facing Michael. Eventually, she moved to press her back against him, pressing her freezing feet to his legs in a desperate search for warmth. Her teeth chattered as she groaned in discomfort that the baby felt restless inside of her. Her mind was so busy, she didn't even feel Michael turn over to spoon her, wrapping his arm around her, his palm resting on her belly, smiling slightly as he felt the baby kick again, but also frowning that it was causing her discomfort. He pressed his cheek against hers before nuzzling his nose into the base of her neck, his beard warm to the touch as he had generated his own heat. She reached for his left arm that was now under the pillow under her head, bringing his hand towards her that was grasped in her own, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

She had plenty of time before she was due, but the immense discomfort in her hips said otherwise. Maybe the baby was moving around? She didn't know. Michael definitely didn't know, so after a few moments of trying to make her comfortable, he shot his head up in concern, wondering if she had begun to go into labor. Tilting his head, he wanted to panic. He began to get up before Mia pulled him back down, recognizing his movement and heavy breathing that he was worried. "I'm not in labor, Michael. Relax," She forced a chuckle. "They're just moving around in there and it's uncomfortable. That's all." He wanted to believe her but was suspicious. Hell, he had never dealt with a pregnant woman before. Sure, he's let one go from his killing spree, never being able to bring himself to it, but never in his life would he imagine being quite excited to be a father himself. He tilted his head to the other side, hearing a slight sniffle from her. Either she was crying or she was sick.

His heavy thumb came up to graze her cheek, feeling the wetness of a tear on the pad of his calloused skin. She sniffled again, grasping his hand in hers as he had caught her during her sudden sadness. "I'll be right back," She sighed, beginning to move around in the bed, moving the covers of her bed, leaving them folded behind, leaving Michael laying confusingly in his spot. He watched the bathroom light dim the bedroom for a few seconds before seeing the room return to darkness, just what he liked.

He watched her leave their bedroom, listening to her steps go down the hallway. Assuming she was getting a drink, Michael thought nothing more about it until he was laying in the bed for more than just a few minutes, unaware that Mia had dismissed herself from the house through the backdoor, walking to her barn to seek comfort from her horses, their calm demeanor helping her through the rough patch she was going through. "Hey, Bubba," She smiled at Harlow, patting his muzzle as she opened the stall door. Harlow pricked his ears forwards at her, expecting a treat, but instead, he stood still as he felt Mia's arms snake around the base of his neck, clinging to him as she let her tears flow again. Usually, Harlow would back away from the intense pressure he felt against him, his natural instincts telling him that something was clinging to him, but he felt his owner's emotions, understanding that she was in need of comfort and support. After all, as the old saying goes, two legs carry her heart...four legs carry her soul.

She sat on the stall floor, her back against the panel as she silently wept, all of these new emotions flooding her, putting her into sensory overload. Harlow stood facing her, his head low and his ears relaxed as he understood her behavior to be upset and in need, but not in a panic.

Having one of those days, I could burn it all down, so I just keep to myself...

Roses by Red Shahan played on her phone, his music, as well as Tyler Childers and Colter Wall putting her mind at ease, forcing herself to focus on the lyrics and how the tunes made her feel closer to ease.

She watched as Harlow's head shot up quickly, his ears pricking forward towards the stall door, his nostrils flaring quickly as he nickered, remembering Michael's face as "treat giver."

"Michael?" She said, lowering the volume on her phone. "I'm sorry I ran off like I did, I-" She cried, turning her head to look up at him, his arms resting over the stall door, looking down at her, watching her wipe her puffy eyes. "I just have been having nightmares of... That night."

He tilted his head at her, confused as to what night she was talking about. It was then that Mia had realized she hasn't told him her backstory. She sighed, leaning her head back against the stall panel. "I have nightmares all the time about my mom and dad. Me and John were so little when it all happened," She began to cry at the thought. "A bad man had broken into our house one night, but we didn't know he had the intention of hurting us. We just thought he was robbing us. Me and John hid in our closet and after a few minutes, we heard two gunshots. I screamed and John put his hand over my mouth. I-I had never been so scared in my life and I cringe thinking about it," She continued hiding her face in her hands. "We soon began to smell smoke. He...He set the house on fire with us inside. John saved our lives. But unfortunately, our parents were taken from us. To this day, I don't know who shot off the gun. I don't know if it was my dad defending himself and my mom or if it was the intruder coming to kill them. I'd do anything to have my parents back, Michael. They would love you and would be more excited for this baby." She began to sob, her intense breathing Michael's cue to stop listening and to act.

He entered the stall hastily, careful not to spook Harlow as he knelt down to Mia, offering his hand to her, seeing her take it as he helped her to her feet as he wrapped the spare jacket he had brought with him around her shoulders, letting her bury her face into his chest while curling her arms against her chest, the tips of her fingers nipped of the cold night air. He rubbed his hands up and down her back as she cried, standing there for as long as she needed him for. "I'm so sorry, Michael. I didn't mean to just run off like that, I-"

He cut her off by shaking his head against hers before placing a kiss on her temple and wrapping his arms snugly around her waist, pulling her closer to him, their bodies pressed comfortably together, Michael's warmth transferring to her as he knew she was cold. Suddenly, a small jolt was felt between them. He was confused at first, but when it happened again, he had realized that the baby had kicked.

He took a slight step back from her, enough to put a small gap between them as his hand traveled to her stomach, feeling the third kick for himself with his own palms. Mia looked down, placing her hands over his, feeling his quickened pulse as well as her own at the immense happiness they both were feeling. He straightened his shoulders, looking at the mother of his unborn child, her natural glow continuing to radiate off of her. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles while his other hand kept hers close to his lips as if her hand was a treasure to him that he did not want to let go of. She smiled, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Michael."