I Can Hear Your Strength (A Heartstopper FanFic -- BOOK 3)

3. Journey

Further.

Just a little further.

And then he'd be free.

His lungs were agony. His feet were screaming to stop.

But he couldn't.

He wouldn't.

Branches whipped at his hair, his face, his hands. His eyes stung with sweat and with terror.

But he pushed onward.

Forest floor gave way to gravel road and Charlie did not stop.

Heavy footfalls behind him. Gaining on him. Grunts of anger. Of rage.

No. No. No --

There was no time to recover from his fall before he was yanked around onto his back. Looming faces swam before him. Then, a solid, sharp pain shot across his forehead.

He knew this time would be no different. When he opened his eyes he knew where he'd be.

Not in Nick's bed. Not in his own.

The darkness seeped in along with the silence.

Don't move. Don't think. Just breathe.

But it wasn't silent. Voices. He could hear voices.

A distant murmur. What were they saying? He couldn't work it out. But people -- there were people outside.

Outside of this box, someone else existed.

"Help!" His own voice echoed in his head. He felt his lips move but the word got lost somewhere on the way to his ears. He tried to swallow but his throat, it burned. "Please," he croaked. "Please, help me..."

Charlie screwed his eyes shut and tried to listen hard.

But all he could hear was somebody breathing. Heavy and laboured. So loud it was as if nothing else existed -- there was nothing but him, the box and someone breathing.

~

At some point Nick had kicked the duvet completely off of himself. He blinked at the clock by the bed. 4:30am. Typical. Only an hour before his alarm was due to go off. He yawned widely, turned over and was about to try to go back to sleep when he realised what had woken him.

He hadn't kicked the duvet off at all. Charlie had gathered the entire thing around himself, curled up into the tightest ball he could manage. His fists were white around the material, his entire body trembling.

"Charlie?" Keeping his movements small and calm, Nick sat up and reached for one of Charlie's hands. Sometimes that helped, having something living to hold onto, to remind him he wasn't alone. "Charlie... love, wake up, come on, you can do it... Charlie?"

For several minutes, Nick alternated between whispered words and tender kisses along Charlie's knuckles. He attempted to pry his poor tense hands away from the duvet but he was holding on fast tonight and Nick didn't want to hurt him. He then moved onto his forehead. It was deeply furrowed and his eyes darted restlessly beneath his closed lids. Nick folded himself as close to Charlie as possible, kissing his brow.

"Char... Charlie... It's me, it's Nick... You need to wake up now, baby... It's just a nightmare... You're not there anymore. You're in my bed and you're h-hogging the d-duvet --" His voice stuttered and broke but he forced himself to keep composed. He needed to stay calm. He stroked Charlie's hair. "It's not real, baby... it's not real, my love..."

Charlie opened his eyes. One second he had been asleep, the next he was awake, staring up at Nick -- but Charlie wasn't looking back.

Fuck, Nick thought. He had witnessed this specific night terror many times over the week they had shut themselves in this very room. Nick had hoped it had run its course -- but now he knew that had been wishful thinking. Usually he would try to soothe Charlie without waking him up, so that there would be no break in his rest. But sometimes -- sometimes Charlie would open his eyes like he had right now, but continue to be stuck there in the dream. Stuck in the freezer. Stuck thinking he was trapped and alone and scared.