Grit To Grace

Three

Sleep came easy to Will that evening, at least at first. He hadn't set the stuffed horse down since he'd gotten it, and it proved comforting enough for him to fall asleep. His dreams, however, were not so kind. All night long, he was plagued with images of maniacal laughter, his bloodied badge, and a horrible burning, ripping sensation that seemed to engulf him.

When he woke, he was trembling and sweaty. He tried to roll over, but the blankets had become tangled up around his legs and torso. He must've been thrashing again. He was still gripping Little Cisco tightly in his arms. As silent tears began to streak his cheeks, they absorbed into the soft fabric of the horse. Will was again faced with the reality of his situation. Sleeping hadn't sent him back home, he was still in Fallyn's house, in a foreign time and an unfamiliar place. He gripped the stuffed horse tighter to his chest as the tears fell, trying not to make a sound.

"Dry those tears, Junior. It's alright." Sam kneeled down beside a teenage Will, setting a hand on his shoulder. Will was sitting in the middle of the round pen, silent tears running down his cheeks as he watched Cisco. The buckskin's ears were back, but not flat. The horse seemed to be listening. If only he'd listen well enough to be ridden!

"No it ain't, Pa! I'm never gonna break that stupid horse!" Will hissed, standing up on wobbly legs. He was sure this fall had probably busted something, or at least sprained something, his arm was numb and his body ached. "That's the fifth time he's thrown me this week! Sunfishing bastard can buck. Not only that, yesterday he took a chunk outta me!"

Sam only chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, no use cryin' over it, boy. When you get thrown, you get back on. Simple as that. Eventually, that buckskin of yours is gonna see that you ain't gonna let him get you down, and he'll take to you like a fish takes to water." He helped his son to his feet, dusting him off a bit. "Now, go get back on, and end this on a good note. Then you can go in and take a hot bath to soothe those muscles." 

Will wiped his eyes and untangled himself from the sheets. His heart heavy, he trudged to the bathroom, freshening himself up. He paused, looking into the mirror and taking a deep breath.

"No use cryin' over it," Will muttered, splashing some water on his face. "I've been through worse and I've got the scars to prove it." He looked himself in the eye, and gave a slow, determined nod. "I'll get back on, Pa. I'm gonna get back home, and solve the case. I'll make you proud, Pa. I won't let you down."

Fallyn was no better. Her dreams were infected with vision of dark hands and laughter that sounded like it belonged in a haunted house. She tossed and turned, screaming for it to go away.

It didn't stop until she woke up in a cold sweat. She was panting, hands formed claws along the silk sheets on her bed. Fallyn hadn't had a nightmare like that in a long time. The woman hauled herself out of bed and went to the kitchen.

As a child whenever she had a bad dream, her mother would make her warm milk with cinnamon. It seemed to always do the trick. On the way she saw that the bathroom light was on and Will was muttering to himself.

She paused and leaned in the doorway. "Will? Everything okay? Guess going to sleep didn't work." A tight smile formed on her face as she looked over the man.

Will jumped and spun around, then let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Afraid you're stuck with me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You don't look like you slept very well... Can I make you breakfast?" He offered a soft smile, though it never reached his eyes.

She giggled and shook her head. It was only 3am. Too early for breakfast. Fallyn nodded towards the stairs.

"Come downstairs. It's way too early for breakfast, but I can make you something to help put you to sleep. No doubt you need it." She wrapped her arms around herself and headed down the stairs.