Fault lines

Chapter 2: Across The Sea

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I have a dream, a fantasy

To help me through, reality

And my destination, makes it worth the while

Pushin' through the darkness, still another mile…

…When I know the time is right for me

I'll cross the stream, I have a dream

-ABBA, I Have a Dream

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Chapter Two: Across The Sea

Juliet awoke to the sound of groaning. Immediately, her heart began to race; it sounded like someone was hurt. She sat straight up in bed, alert, but saw no one in the still-dark room but her and James.

James.

Her gaze darted over to him. He was struggling against the covers, his hands balled into fists at his side. He seemed to be having a nightmare.

Juliet didn't know what to do. They weren't even friends, so touching him and comforting him felt like crossing a line. But leaving him there to suffer didn't feel right either. As she weighed her options, he continued to thrash until she couldn't take it anymore. She rose from her bed and padded over to his. She sat on the edge and reached out a hand to grip his bare shoulder.

"James? James, wake up," she whispered. She didn't want to startle him, but he didn't budge. "James!" she said a little more loudly, and then the next thing she knew, she was seeing stars.

James sat up, breathing hard and shaking like a leaf. His eyes were wild and his mind was racing. He saw Juliet standing over him, clutching her jaw, and that's when he noticed the pain in his knuckles. Realization dawned on him and his breathing became even more labored as panic settled in.

"Juliet?" he rasped. "What - I didn't - "

She sat back down next to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. His muscles felt twitchy and wrong as they spasmed out of his control. He desperately tried to slow his breathing, gulping down lungfuls of air, until she placed another hand on his other shoulder, pushing him back down onto the bed, grounding him.

"Shhh, it's okay…" she breathed.

"Did I - Did I hit you?" he asked, astounded. Her eyes looked pained but she didn't respond. "Ah, shit. I didn't mean - I'd never - "

"James, it's okay. You were having a nightmare. You didn't mean to, I know." Her voice was hard, but not unkind. She rubbed her hands up and down his shoulders, the motion repetitive and soothing.

"Fuck," he growled angrily. She'd been trying to help him and he fucking punched her. Asleep or not, he felt hot shame burning in his gut. He lifted his hand to try and look at her jaw, but she twisted her chin away from him. The room was still dark, but the lamplight outside provided a soft, yellow glow coming in through the blinds. He thought it would be enough to see the damage, but her face was tilted slightly so he couldn't see.

"I've had worse," she pointed out wryly. "Don't worry about it."

Soon, his breathing had evened out and he felt his body relax, his energy completely sapped. She pulled back, removing her hands from him, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of her touch. It felt wrong to him, somehow - this empty feeling.

"Juliet, I'm sorry," he croaked, apologizing once more because the guilt still had not receded.

She stood once more, leaving yet another empty space, and shook her head. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Do you want to talk about it? Your nightmare?" She crossed her arms over her stomach as she looked down on him, her head still cocked to the side.