Let Him In

Let Him In - Chapter 6/7 ("I Was There")

*****     Please be advised that this work contains possible trigger warnings! There are mentions of abuse, drug use, and rape/non-con elements! Thank You!!     *****

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Brightness. 

That's the first thing that you register as your eyes fly open. You immediately begin to frantically look around the room in an attempt to find whatever eminent danger lies waiting for you now. But after you shoot up from the sweat drenched couch (with a mixture of tears embedded into the dusty fabric as well), and the world stops spinning after a moment, you find that you're alone.

It was all a dream.

One big, long, awful dream that was more vivid than any you can ever recall having. The mere memory of the events that unfolded last night makes your throat begin to constrict and your body fall in on itself. Everything becomes blurry and you're struggling to take in a breath. Feelings of disgust, anger, fear, and panic are all flooding into you, overwhelming your body and your mind.

You try to get up off of the couch to go get some water and walk around a bit as an attempt to calm yourself down, but after two steps, your shaky legs give out and you crumple to the ground. You land at the foot of your bed and decide that trying to get around is pointless. Breathing is impossible at this point, and sobs are wrecking your body so hard that you couldn't form a coherent sentence if you tried.

His hands still feel like they're all over you. Like they're beating you, strangling you, ripping away your clothes, violating you... And you can't take it.

Doing the only thing that you can at that moment, you squeeze your eyes shut as tight as possible - locking out the rest of the world - and you let out a cry of anguish. Your throat seems to open just enough, in that single moment in time, to allow you this relief. You scream because of what happened. You scream because of the nightmare that you just awoke from. You scream because of the fact that it wasn't just a nightmare, but at some point, it was your reality. You scream because seeing the look in your father's eyes may have hurt like a son of a bitch, but it was nothing compared to Sam's - both when he was an immobile shell of a person, and when he was your hero, barreling in to save you at the mention of your needing him... You scream because you know that you need him. That you can't keep living with everything locked inside of you like this.

Using the last bit of air you have left in your burning lungs, you do the one thing you remember that saved you in your dream. You call out for Sam. It comes out as a broken sob, wrecked from the strain your vocal cords have just been put through, but you still manage to get it out.

All of a sudden, the hands you thought that you were imagining become all too real to just be in your head, and you're immediately fighting. Not wanting to see the man that you fear the most - more than any monster you have/have yet to face - you keep your eyes closed as tight as possible. In a vague and pointless attempt to scramble away from the large hands that wrapped themselves - oddly gently - around your shoulders, you wind up hitting your head and back against the railing of the footboard of the motel bed during the process. You let more sobs escape as you collapse back onto the ground, too tired to fight anymore.

With your eyes still closed you didn't see the same pair of hands slowly reach out for you again, but you flinch when you feel them lightly wrap around your face. Then you hear his voice.

Sam.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, open your eyes for me! Shh, It's just me, It's Sam. Sam is here. I'm right here." You hear him pleading for you to just snap back into reality, but in your cloud of panic you're scared that when you open your eyes it won't be Sam's staring back at you.

A few more sobs escape from your lips and a few calming hushes escape from who you desperately hope is Sams. You can feel your heartrate steadying a slightly and your throat opening up a bit, but it isn't enough. You have to know that this is real - that he is real and here right now. You have to feel him.

With trembling hands to match your trembling frame, you slowly raise your left hand up to gently wrap around the outside of one of Sam's, and your right hand finds his face. You slowly move your fingers around and you recognize the feeling of some distressed locks hanging down, framing his face and brushing along the back of your knuckles. This is real. This is Sam.

You keep your hands where they are, not wanting him to somehow slip away from you, and you allow your eyes to flutter open. Squinting from a mixture of your still falling tears and the harsh light that dilates your pupils dramatically, you still manage to make out the blurry image of a shaggy haired, deeply concerned, teddy bear of a man leaning over you.

"There ya go, that's is, (Y/N). That's it, sweetheart. It's me; it's Sam. I'm right here. You're okay. It's okay now. You're okay."

His soft, calming melody brings your heartbeat back down to an acceptable pace, and while you're still shaking a bit, you aren't trembling anymore. Your eyes stay locked on Sam's as a couple of choked sobs still manage to escape from your shaking lips, and tears continue to pour from your eyes and down his hands. And, if you didn't know any better, it looks like you're not the only one crying.

You brush your thumb across Sam's cheek, and sure enough you're wiping away tears of his own.

Before you have time to say anything, you feel yourself being pulled up and into Sam. He completely engulfs you, wrapping his arms protectively and comfortingly around you, and shoving your face into the crook of his neck. You quickly reciprocate and wrap one arm under his and around his shoulder, and your other arm around his neck, grabbing at his plain white T-shirt and carefully grasping at his neck, wanting to latch yourself completely onto him - to anchor yourself to where you feel safe.

His left hand is gripping at your shirt, just like yours is his, and his right is running soothing up-and-down patterns along your back. You both are sobbing, and you aren't exactly sure as to why he's as distraught as he is. Yes, he caught you is a broken, mess of a state, but that wouldn't have this much of an effect on him. Would it?

"I was there. Your dream. I was there."

Oh, dear God...