Mitch watched the blond closely, wondering what he was thinking about. As zoned out as Scott was, he still managed to inhale his food. "Hey Scott," Mitch said softly, but there was no reply. "What are you thinking about?" He asked in a more normal tone. Scott jumped at the sound of his voice. They stared at each other for awhile before Mitch blew his straw wrapper at Scott, motioning for him to speak.
Scott's eyes were empty. "I wasn't," he replied, "I wasn't thinking about anything." He pushed himself back into the seat.
"Bull." Mitch said, staring him down. "Tell me about your nightmare Scotty."
Scott felt uneasy under Mitch's gaze. "I didn't have a nightmare." He lied. Mitch scoffed. "It was nothing." Scott looked away from Mitch, instead watching his hands fumble with the hem of his shirt.
Scott didn't want to lie, but whenever he tried to talk about his dreams the contents of his stomach threatened to reappear. The truth was that Scott still had night terrors, and he knew that Mitch knew. Still, there were always reasons to keep quiet. When he was younger, his father scared him into not talking about his feelings at all. It took Mitch years to get him to talk about anything, but he still generally left the bad shit out.
Scott always felt like he was a burden, unless he was too drunk to care. These nightmares were out of control, and the last thing he wanted was for Mitch to feel responsible for stopping them. That was his job. He knew that he should try to talk about it, and he knew he had plenty of people who would love to listen. Although he trusted his best friend Alex and his girlfriend Dianne, Mitch was his housemate and if anyone was going to know, he deserved to know too.
By this time, Mitch felt that Scott had been staring off for a few too many minutes. He stirred his drink with his straw as he studied Scott, trying to absorb as much information as he could get. The nightmares must involve something huge. Maybe they were about his dad or failing the music business; maybe they were something more existential. Mitch thought hard, through all of the times Scott's talked about these nightmares, searching for any clues to his mystery.
Suddenly, Mitch remembered one conversation from when they were little. The first time Mitch witness this event, he was honestly scared shitless, so he didn't say anything to Scott. One of the first times after that, he had to ask. "What do you dream about?" Scott tore his eyes from his video game to look at Mitch. He was motionless, just staring at the brunette in total fear. They were both silent, the only noise was Scott's video game character dying in the background.
Scott gripped his control tightly, his eyes moving around rapidly as they always did when he was nervous or lying. "Well, I um," He stumbled, trying to collect his thoughts.
Mitch pealed Scott's hand from the controller. "You scream. When you have bad dreams, you scream like you're dying." Neither of the boys looked at each other.
"They change, well, kinda." As Scott began he looked up from the floor to Mitch. "Someone's always getting taken away from me but in different ways. It's always my mom or one of my sisters. The most important people in my life." Scott sniffled, and Mitch looked up. Scott's nose was pink, and tears threatened to spill.
Mitch retrieved a box of tissues quietly. "I'm sorry Scotty." He said as he folded his legs back into a pretzel shape. "No one's going to take anyone away from you." The boys locked eyes. "I promise." Mitch whispered, holding his pinky up.
Mitch decided that the dreams must be about someone being taken from Scott, and he knew exactly who it was, Dianne. Now all he had to do was wait for a proper time to talk about it.
It had been two days since the boys' wonderful time at iHop. That night Mitch woke up to the same familiar screaming. He had planned to talk to Scott about it the next morning but he was in a terrible mood so he left it alone.
Now it was the following day, and all was well so far. Mitch was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink as he fixed his hair in the mirror. "What a beautiful sight." Scott joked from the doorway. Mitch wiggled his butt and giggled. Scott walked over and wrapped his arms around Mitch, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I know you've been worried about me." Scott began. The brunette glanced at him in the mirror. "I wanted to tell you about my dream last night." Mitch started to stand so Scott moved back and watched him walk into his bedroom and crash on the bed. He followed suit. "It was about Dianne." The ceiling stared blankly back at Scott.
"She was kidnapped." Mitch said confidently. Scott turned to look at him. "Remember when we were little. You told me someone important always gets taken away from you." Sometime while they were talking Mitch had wiggled his little hand into Scott's.
"You're right." Scott whispered.
"Is it always Dianne?" Mitch asked softly.
"No, but it was last night." Scott sighed and let go of Mitch's hand to rub his eyes.
Mitch propped himself up on an elbow. "Get some sleep Scottish. I've got a meeting, but I'll come in and check on you later." He ran his hand through Scott's hair before he got up and left.
The story didn't quite add up. Scott admitted that his dream last night was about Dianne, but it wasn't what Scott said that had Mitch confused. Last night was silent. Mitch didn't wake up from Scott once. However, the night prior to that was rough, as was the night before. If he dreamt about Dianne last night, there must be something worse. Scott wasn't telling the full story, and Mitch was determined to have it.
