𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀, 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦

( tw: descriptions of anxiety and mentions of death )

you emerged from your room around eight o'clock. you spent the rest of the night wide awake, unable to fall asleep after your nightmare and anxiety regarding the strange cps worker. you knew that debbie didn't get any sleep either since you heard her pacing around her room and how she kept turning on the hallway lights. it made your blood boil that she was blaming herself for the events of the past. it wasn't fair, and she didn't deserve it. you poured yourself a steaming cup of coffee that someone had already brewed. but after tasting the rich flavor, you instantly recognized it as debbie's coffee.

"early morning?" 

you almost dropped the mug from your hands. you took a deep breath, turning to the archway in the kitchen. you visibly relaxed at the sight of the brunette. she looked exhausted -- her brown hair in messy waves and dark eye bags under her eyes. but you were in no place to judge, since you probably looked the same. "late night," you retorted. debbie nods, walking next to you, refilling her empty mug. you scooted slightly to the side, frowning as you watched her. you debated on asking her about her nightmares.

"you're staring," she states, turning to you while sipping her coffee.

you chewed on your lip again. "are you okay, aunt debbie?" you blurted. debbie stops drinking from the mug, raising her eyebrow. you continue before she can respond. "i-i..." you trail off, averting your gaze from her. "i get the nightmares, too."

debbie's shoulders sag slightly as she brings the mug into her hands. "i'll be alright," she softly says, offering you a weak smile.

"i know you will," you say with a soft smile. "you're so strong."

debbie playfully nudges your arm. "hey, don't sell yourself short, kiddo. you're strong too." she motions to your wound. "and you got the battle scar to prove it."

"i wish i was the one to kill him," you whisper. "he doesn't deserve to be in our nightmares -- haunting our lives. it's not fair." your knuckles begin to turn white from the harsh grip you had on the mug.

debbie's expression softens as she listens to you. it's like you put into words exactly how she's been feeling since that day. "i know, babe," she sighs. "it's not fair, not in the slightest." her free hand reaches out, holding onto your free hand. "but, hey. we're strong and we're in this together. right?"

you nod. "yeah, together," you echoed back. you squeeze debbie's hand.

"together," debbie softly smiles.

a soft knock on your bedroom door interrupts your reading. "come in," you chime, placing a bookmark in your book.

the door opens, revealing the smiling blonde. "hey," she gently smiles. "how are you?" tammy had been out of town for a couple of days, tending to her sick children. her asshole of an ex-husband couldn't even bother to watch them. when she finally got back, you and her snuggled up with a bowl of popcorn on the couch, watching romcoms until you both feel asleep.

a soft smile graced your features as you saw her. "i'm doing good," you hum. "i just changed the bandages." you motion to your ribs before flexing your arm. 

"i'm glad," she quips. "i was just about to bake some cookies, i was wondering if you would like to join me?" a hopeful expression crosses on her face, making you smile wider.

you close your book, before getting off your bed. "i'd love to, tams!"


tammy's eyebrow as she watches you attempt to measure brown sugar. "have you ever baked before, (y/n)?" fleetwood mac plays subtly in the background of the flour-stained kitchen.