Alone • Liam Dunbar

Twelve

Lately, I had been having a recurring dream.

I traveled through the frozen forest from before with no other intent but to capture the faceless woman as she ran for her life. Our chase felt endless as it replayed in my head night after night. Tonight had been an exception.

I was still in the snow, but instead of being surrounded by frosted trees, I was in the middle of a thin clearing. There wasn't much I could make out, the sun directly overhead blinded me, making the snow that stuck to the ground shimmer like diamonds. Then I felt it.

Death.

A steel pike was driven through my heart and then after that, all I could see was red before I woke up screaming.

---

I slid out of bed, shoving the sheets off of me as I landed on the floor and crawled backward until I hit a wall. My eyes darted rapidly across the space of the loft as if the threat I faced had awoken with me.

"Jac? What's wrong?" Liam's urgent as he jumps up from his side of the bed, my screams having ruined his sleep too.

He rounds the mattress and comes to crouch at my level, reaching for me. He stops when my hand shoots out and I shake my head. I was unable to find my voice but desperate to alert him to the fact that his touch would only overwhelm me at a time like this.

Our invisible boundary has been set, and Liam doesn't argue or press. He keeps his distance, already used to the fact that sometimes my nightmares took more control of me than I preferred.

My breath is heavy as my eyes focus on the shadows of the wide-open room, wondering if the masked men lurked in an unseen corner.

Liam blocks my view so all I see is him, holding his hands up near his chest.

"Breathe with me, Jac. Like we did before, remember?"

His hands raised in sync with his deep inhale, then they lowered on the exhale. I force my body to follow his lead, trying to be reminded of the plan we created for times like this. My nightmares were still frequent, unfortunately, and last night surely hadn't helped my mind with keeping up its defenses against any internal turmoil.

Deaton and I's conversation had left us both shaken since our theory hardly felt like an actual theory. What it did feel like, was something unavoidable. Inevitable.

I kept staring at Tracy's lifeless body, imagining my own abandoned corpse on a slab of metal. Deaton urged me to go home because of it. I wasn't any help to him at that point. I became another object in his way.

I had wanted to go to the hospital and check on Lydia first, but after receiving a text from Scott that she was in the ICU and unable to have visitors, I decided to simply do as Deaton originally recommended. When I arrived at the loft, Liam was already here.

Neither of us said a word when we saw each other, he simply opened his arms and I was more than willing to accept his offer.

It wasn't unusual for him to spend the night. He would often lie to his parents and say he was at Mason's, and then he would tell Mason he was at Scott's. Last night had been no different, and I was grateful for him to risk that for me.

I didn't want to be alone, and I didn't even have to say that for him to know. He just did.

"Breathe with me," Liam repeats.

I continue to do as he does until our chests rise and fall in unison. Liam looks satisfied at that, and I can see him zone out for a moment, probably listening in on my heartbeat to make sure the organ wasn't about to implode.