He jumped up and ran into her room, doctors rushing in after him. She was sobbing and flailing around in the bed. Her eyes were closed tightly. He cupped her face in his hands and her eyes shot open. She looked around panicked and was panting hard.
"It was just a dream okay?" He comforted, he pushed her hair from her face gently. She flinched at his touch. He took his hands away slowly, hurt. The doctor's took her pulse and asked if she wanted to take some sedatives. She shook her head and sat up. She glanced over at him, but quickly looked away. Her eyes stabbed at his heart.
"How've you been feeling?" He asked softly. She said nothing, she just stared straight ahead.
"Will you please tell me what's wrong?" He asked. She trembled slightly. He looked down at his hands.
"What did you dream about?" He asked, barely audible. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she still didn't say anything. He lost it.
"Talk to me!"
There was a moment of silence, then she sobbed loudly. She put her hands over her face and sobbed into her hands. He jumped up and walked over to her. He reached a hand out to touch her, but thought better of it and put his hand back at his side.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He trailed off. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. It was so frustrating.
"Please just tell me what's wrong so I can help. I want to fix it." He pleaded.
"You can't fix everything!"
She was talking to him. He had to keep her talking.
"Why not?"
"Because you're the problem." She sobbed softly. He felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. He didn't understand.
"How?" He was at a loss for words.
"Do you still love me?" She asked softly.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I love you? It's not your fault. It could never be your fault. It doesn't matter what happens I will always love you okay?" He murmured, sitting down on her bed so she could see him.
"I don't see how you can. I can't. I feel so gross. Dirty and gross and awful." She seemed to be shrinking into herself.
"I still don't see how I'm the problem. I can help you." He pleaded with her. He reached out a hand to touch her. She shied away from him,
"I don't want you to touch me." She whispered shamefully.
"Why not?" He demanded frustrated. She was shaking violently, and she was still crying softly.
"Because you don't deserve this! I feel so dirty. I'm so gross!" She sobbed. Dirty. Gross. She could never be dirty or gross. This wasn't her fault. She had to know that. He could never ever think of her like that. This was his fault.
"I can't explain it. I just feel icky." She laughed bitterly, "You should probably just leave now. I'm not good enough for you anymore. I guess I never was." She whispered softly. How could she think that? How could she say that? If anything he wasn't good enough for her. She didn't understand. And he wasn't going to let her say that.
He scooted forward and hugged her. He scooped her up and cradled her in his lap. She squirmed against him.
"No. I don't want to get you dirty." She sobbed. He held her tighter,
"You are not dirty! You're beautiful and sweet and kind. I don't think I can live without you. You make me a better person. You have no idea." He was not going to let her think that. This wasn't her. She was just upset. She needed time. She curled up into him.
"I love you." She wailed. He kissed her forehead.
"I love you too." He whispered rocking back and forth gently.
"Can I kiss you?" He murmured. She nodded,
"Please." He pressed his lips down on hers happily. She entangled her fingers in his hair and hugged her tightly. He missed the way she smelled. Her skin was so soft. He smiled weakly.
Everything was going to be okay.
