Deadly Nightmares (The Last Guardian, Book One)

SIX

TW: Mentions of starvation. Idrk anything else, tell me in the comments if i missed anything.

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CLIFFORD WAS EXCITED FOR the actual thing to start. For the past week, Tamara had been coming in at exactly ten in the morning to sit him up and wipe his legs with a wet cloth. He hadn't been eating anything for the past few months, just getting fed by an IV tube whenever he passed out.

Tamara hadn't been trying to feed him either, the vial being his only source of food. However, he had a suspicion that he was still being fed through a tube while he was passed out for half the day.

He still couldn't deny the fact that having her in the room brightened up his mood a bit.

The moment he woke up, he yawned, stretching his shoulders a bit, turning his head right to look at the digital clock hanging on the wall. It was just before five in the morning, so he guessed everyone was asleep.

He turned his neck to the other side to stretch the muscles a bit, when he saw Roberta sleeping on the armchair. His eyebrows furrowed as his hand automatically went to her hand on one of the arms of the chair.

"Robbie," he said tenderly. She only adjusted the weird position in which her neck was, sleeping there. "Roberta."

She woke with a jolt, her dark brown hair falling over her face. Immediately, she got up to peer at Clifford. "What's up? Are you hungry? Should I cook something?"

"No, it's not that," he said, his hand grasping her arm and squeezing it to calm her. "Just go, sleep in your room. I don't want you to break your neck, sleeping in that armchair. It's comfy, but not as much."

"I was, but you were having a nightmare and yelling," Roberta said, making his eyes widen. "Tamara- uh, Miss Garner barely managed to calm you down so that you didn't wake up. Told us that the sleeping potion must've worn off. So, I decided to stay, just in case."

Clifford stared at the woman, the spitting image of her and her brother's father. He and his father had been reluctant to accept them as at the time, it had just meant that they had to raise bastards. But unlike his father, he had treated them with care first and after that, love.

Roberta was the emotional one out of the lot of them. She had always been the one to try to keep the family together, always forgiving of Henry Feron's cruel remarks, whereas Dane had been the one to want to beat the shit out of him.

His heart ached to think of the fear she'd felt every time he'd had a nightmare, scaring the life out of everyone.

"Well, I'm awake now," he said with a smile. "So, go on. I'll be fine."

Roberta looked at him concernedly, but agreed, exiting the room with a yawn.

When she left, he sighed with contentment. Being alone in the room had a different vibe in itself. He was starting to like it lately. He looked at his bedside table, staring at the top drawer. He reached out his hand, opened it, and took his phone out. He switched it on and opened an app, snorting at the memes that appeared.

He just scrolled and laughed. He'd started this a few days ago, randomly just remembering that he had a phone. It was the first time again, since he'd wanted to do something else other than stare at the ceiling or the curtains.

And after that, it'd just become a routine, just a few hours of memes and distractions. Then, there was a post about one of his shows, saying that it wouldn't be renewed for another season.

"Oh, come on, man," he said, irritated. "That was actually a good one."

"What was?" A voice was heard from the doorway, making him jump. Clifford's phone fell on his face, his grip faltering. He blinked, caught off guard.