You're Mine

chapter 122

The little bling sound was unbearable for Amelia. Her hysterical sobs filled the whole room. She felt the blonde guy shake her because she wasn't killing her kids fast enough for his liking.

"AMELIA!", Owen yelled, finally waking her up. He had brought Layla back to her own bed once his wife had fallen asleep since she had been tossing and turning, sweating, and crying. Explaining this to his child was too much for him.

The brunette exhaled loudly, feeling like she hadn't been breathing for minutes. Her eyes read horror and she just stared at her husband, trying to take in her surroundings, trying to figure out if she was dead and had decided to shoot Owen before Greg had killed her instead of ending her kids' lives.

"You forgot to turn your volume down. It was just a text message.", the trauma surgeon explained what had happened. His wife shook her head, trying to tell him that he didn't understand. That in her mind and in her dream that text message meant so much more pain and loss and death than it did in real life.

It hadn't been Greg who had been shaking her, it had been Owen. But her sleepy body had mixed reality with fantasy and still, the games her mind had played on her had felt more real than anything she had ever witnessed.

"Babe, it's 3am. I need you to breathe and you need to go back to sleep.", her husband told her and hugged her tighter. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. It was a nightmare."

"I...I think I need a therapy session.", Amelia said. The redhead was just about to reply something, when she realized: "And I have to throw up." She got up in a hurry and ran into their bathroom to empty her guts into the toilet.

"Shh, it's okay.", the redhead soothed his wife after following her into the ensuite. He was kneeling behind her, holding her hair back with one hand, while he stroked her back with the other one and drew comforting circles on it. "Better?", he worried after he had handed her some toilet paper to wipe her mouth with and flushed the toilet.

"A little.", the brunette responded weakly, laying down on the warm bathroom floor that was heated since it was winter. She rested her head in her husband's lap and closed her eyes, driving her hands over her face.

"What was the nightmare about?", Owen wanted to know, caressing her cheek with his thumb. The look on Amelia's face said it all. Even though she had only been dreaming, she had gone through hell. "If...if you wanna tell me.", he added, not wanting to pressure his wife into remembering the events.

The neurosurgeon told her husband every little detail of her nightmare before she got up from the floor to brush her teeth. Then, she walked into the hallway to check on all her children, wanting to make sure they were actually okay.

"I think I'm going to stay awake.", Amelia decided once she walked back into the bedroom, where Owen was waiting for her in bed. "I can't be left alone with my thoughts, but I can't risk having such a bad dream again either.", she explained.

"Honey...", the trauma surgeon tried to argue, but had a better idea. He knew his wife. She wouldn't be able to keep her eyes open if he caressed her head and whispered soothing words in her ear as she was laying in his protective arms. She never could.

And he was right. It didn't even take twenty minutes before she fell back asleep since she was so extremely tired and needed to rest. Owen stayed awake a little bit longer to monitor her but a few minutes later, he couldn't keep himself from surrendering back to sleep either.

The next morning, his wife woke up with a big yawn and glanced at the alarm clock which read 8:54am, causing her to sit up straight. She had overslept. Logan would have had to be at school about one and a half hours ago.

"Owen, it's way past-", the brunette began to inform her husband, who was already downstairs. "8:30.", she finished her sentence, walking in on him playing with Luna and Layla while her mother and Evelyn busied Lucas. Eleanor was running around outside, and Leo was on the swings.

"I know, Babe.", the redhead smiled at her and got up to greet her with a kiss. "Coffee is waiting for you in the kitchen, so are scrambled eggs and toast. I would have woken you up in a few minutes anyway, so you could eat breakfast while it's still warm."

"Why didn't you wake me earlier? I could have helped you with the kids and everything.", the neurosurgeon sighed. "Good morning.", she greeted everybody before she glanced back at the toddler outside, who was pouting. "What is Leo doing there?"

"He's been throwing a tantrum, so I sent him to the swings.", Owen shared dead seriously. "He can be angry elsewhere, especially when he doesn't let me help him and chooses to be sassy with me.", he informed his wife, finally seeing her laugh for the first time since Teddy had told him about what had happened. "I also love the way he keeps staring at me from time to time, throwing me mad glances.", he chuckled.

"Mommy!", the four-year-old suddenly interrupted the talk and came back inside with his now muddy shoes, not caring about the fact that he was making the whole living room floor dirty. "I'm pissed.", he stated.

"Yeah...", Amelia said, wanting to be angry at her son about the floor so badly, but she wasn't able to hold back her giggles, which her husband didn't find amusing at all. "Daddy told me. How about we talk about it and try to make it better before he gets really mad. We can do so at the dining table.", she figured, knowing that the other family members would be able to listen to the conversation from where they were sitting. "But take off those shoes first."

"Hey...", the trauma surgeon meddled for a second. "Dr. Brato is going to be here in two hours for a therapy session.", he whispered in her ear. Although he hadn't had the chance to answer anything to her wish of having a therapy session last night, he hadn't ignored it. "Now please take care of that moody toddler of yours."

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a/n: Yes, it was only a nightmare. Yes, I usually write those in italic text and if this was a book to be published, I wouldn't have been allowed to change it, but it's not. And I figured: If I wanna scare you, I need to leave the text in its normal form, otherwise you would have known. :p