Trauma changes people. trauma changes everyone.
All rights for the 9-1-1 cast and all rights to most of the plot goes to ABC. New plots and new characters belong to me 🫶
Book continues in Apparition! 🫶
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LYDIA
I woke up a terrible churning in my stomach, the kind that made my whole body tense in anticipation. A cold sweat covered my skin, and I knew I couldn't stay in bed. Carefully, I slipped out from under the covers, glancing at Miles to make sure he was still asleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, his face peaceful.
Good. The last thing I wanted was to wake him.
Grabbing the trash can near my desk, I tiptoed toward the door. My legs felt weak, and my head pounded with every step, but I made it out of the room without a sound, hopefully. The hallway was dark as I shuffled toward the living room.
Once there, I sank onto the couch, pulling a blanket over me as I set the trash can down beside me. My stomach twisted painfully, but I managed to keep it down. Curling up on the couch, I tried to focus on my breathing, hoping the nausea would pass.
Then suddenly, my ears popped.
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head, making me wince. I clutched my ears, feeling like something was tearing open inside them. And then—
Sound.
The faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The creak of the house settling. Even the distant ticking of a clock I hadn't noticed before.
I froze, my hands still pressed to my ears. Was I imagining it? Slowly, I let go, listening carefully. The noises were real. I could hear them.
A wave of relief washed over me, so powerful that tears welled in my eyes. My hearing was back.
But the relief didn't last long. The noises were overwhelming, flooding my senses all at once. Every little sound seemed amplified—the hum of the air conditioning, the nestle of the blanket as I shifted. Even my own breathing sounded too loud.
I pressed my hands over my ears again, trying to block it out. My head throbbed, and my stomach churned all over again. Exhaustion settled over me like a heavy blanket.
Lying down on the couch, I pulled the blanket tighter around me. The nausea was still there, but the relief of being able to hear again dulled it slightly. I closed my eyes, listening to the quiet, but kind of loud symphony of sounds around me.
It was too much, but it was everything I'd wished for.
Eventually, the exhaustion won out. My breathing slowed, and I drifted back to sleep, the faint hum of life around me lulling me into uneasy rest.
