Hopesnare

in which many things are wrong

Sean didn't know why Ruth was so upset at him, but he knew that he probably deserved it.

He knew that this whole scene was wrong. Ruth wasn't supposed to look at him with fear and anger in her eyes. She wasn't supposed to call him Sean with a voice full of hatred that spat out his name.

He knew he didn't like how she looked, screaming and crying. It made him feel guilty and horrible and want to die and disappear forever and he didn't want Ruth to have reason to feel like this for any reason.

All of this was so wrong.

Sean Finche didn't cry. And yet he was. It wasn't like Ruth's uncontrollable sobs, but it was just as bad. He could tell because he could hardly see–not through the shaky view his watering eyes gave him. He was crying because so was she. And so they cried, one because of the other's very existence, it seemed, and the other because of her newfound hatred of him that he deserved.

But then he felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him, and he heard a voice saying his name.

The voice belonged to Ruth.

But it wasn't her screaming at him, it was her worriedly saying Sean, over and over. Then she called him Sherlock, and he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her.

Except it wasn't the scene that had been there before, no, they were in bed. His back was leaned against the headboard. Ruth appeared to have moved him to be like that, and had her hands on his shoulders. Her face was inches away, looking concerned. Sean felt immense relief flood through his body and startled both of them as he hugged her as hard as he could. She stiffened at first, but then relaxed and put her arms around him, too.

Sean didn't hug people, but when you're alone together in the middle of the night after what he hoped was only a bad dream, hugging wasn't so bad after all.