heart like yours (jennifer jareau)

3. twelve

AN: HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!

idk if everybody celebrates either so happy holidays!

just a single update today, i will return on monday with another one!

also, it's almost a year since i first published this book (19th jan) which is also insane!

i hope you all enjoy and see you next week <3 

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"like a child, i flinch at violence, wherever i find. even when i'm the seed. even when i'm the sacrifice." - yves olade

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The nightmares came back again after Gideon's voicemail. Delilah didn't remember much, but she'd seen her father's face in her dreams more than she had in the prior fifteen or so years. She was also dreaming about Dylan, except, his face wasn't like Delilah remembered him to be.

Instead of flesh and blood, it was just a bony skeleton with black holes for eyes staring back at her, clawed bones curled around her wrist like the chains on the wall, silent screams from lungs long rotted into the dirt beneath them.

She didn't remember his face until she could drag herself to find his picture, staring at it inches away from her face to try and forget how Dylan's skeleton looked.

She would never forget, but she tried. God, she tried.

The nightmares were rare when JJ slept over. Delilah loved and hated it in the same breath. She could sleep without being scared, but, as soon as JJ was gone, Delilah was victim to her own mind again.

She couldn't even explain it to JJ. How did she explain that, every time she closed her eyes, she saw her best friend's corpse? It would trigger JJ because she had been the one to find her dead sister. Delilah wouldn't do that to her.

So, on the evening of the ninth of October, when JJ was at home finishing up case files and Delilah was home alone because Liv was at her girlfriend's, Delilah sat in the living room with Friends playing on the TV, blanket tucked over her as she tried to stay invested in the episode.

It was late, almost midnight, and Delilah had work the next day, but she wasn't in any rush to go to sleep. Hopefully, JJ would just turn up spontaneously like she'd been doing in the past few weeks, or Liv would come home, by some miracle.

Delilah doubted it. Liv had been keeping her distance from Delilah since Gideon's voicemail. Delilah didn't blame her. She was spending her days either emotionally numb or in floods of tears over tiny insignificant things. It was exhausting.

Existing was exhausting.

Delilah kept taking her meds, though. Vince assured her in their many, many sessions that things would get worse before they got better.

Delilah thought that hope was often one of the most silent but deadly killers. She also thought that she would be dead soon, anyway, so, what was the big deal in hoping he was right?

The front door lock jiggled before Delilah heard the door open and then close.

"Hey," JJ's voice floated down the hall. "Liv's with me, too. We pulled in together."

"Hey," Delilah said, turning her head as JJ and Liv walked into the living room.

JJ caught her eye first, giving her a side-eye towards Liv. Delilah looked at Liv, eyes widening as she got to her feet, pushing away the wave of dizziness ebbing in her head.