Just keep breathing

Chapter 47

Harry's perspective

When a strangled cry wakes me in the early hours of the morning it takes a few seconds for me to remember where we are, I grasp in the darkness of the cabin for the lamp and finally manage to turn it on just in time to see Katie's eyes flash open. She's breathing heavily, and there are beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Sssh baby it's OK I'm here." I try and soothe her, pulling her on to my lap in what has become our nightly routine for the last couple of weeks.

The only night I don't remember her waking me was New years eve I think idly as she tucks her head under my chin and uses her inhaler.

I've not pushed her to talk about what it is that she sees in her dreams to cause her to be so afraid, but she hasn't been forthcoming with the information, and I am starting to wonder if what she needs is actually to open up about them.

"Can you sing to me?" Her small voice asks from its position on my chest.

As much as I don't want to refuse her, it is past time that we talk about all this.

"How about you try talking to me instead?" I ask gently turning her so that I can look into those big brown eyes which I notice unhappily, are glistening with unshed tears.

She shakes her head as if to deny my request, but I can see in her eyes that she's considering it.

"Harry, you don't want to get inside my head. Trust me. You don't want to sing to me?" She says quietly, her mouth turning down in a frown.

"Baby I would sing to you all night if I thought it would help but... I've been doing that for quite a while now, and these dreams don't seem to be going away. Maybe its time we tried a different tactic?" I try and plead with her.

I don't want to push her, but she can't carry on like this, and I only have one more night with her after tonight before she goes home.

"They're just dreams. Memories I guess, only I don't know how much of it is real and what parts my stupid brain just makes up to torture me."

"Memories of what? Michael?" I grit my teeth as I say his name, trying not to let my anger overwhelm me.

I know that if she senses it any chance I have of getting her to open up tonight will be gone.

"No, no. Not him. From when I was in the hospital. Things that happened when I was in the unconscious, I think, or maybe not... I don't know," the frustration in her voice is evident as she scoots off me and pulls a pillow to her chest, hugging it tightly.

"The Doctor says its a form of PTSD. And that the dreams will go away, but I guess I'm still waiting for them too," she admits quietly, refusing to meet my eyes. I wish she wouldn't do that.

"PTSD? As in post-traumatic stress disorder?" I ask, slightly shocked.

As much as I am relieved to hear its not him that she's dreaming of, I had no idea she was suffering from something so serious.

"Yeah, He, my doctor, said that it's pretty common after an experience like mine. I thought it was just something that soldiers and people in war zones suffered from, but apparently not."

"Do you take anything for it?" I watch her take handfuls of pills every morning and night, but I must admit, I had just assumed they were for her Asthma until now.

"Yes, I have the tablets I take. They help a little. But they don't make the nightmares go away."

Her voice is so small and broken that I can actually feel my heart aching for her, but I know that I can't stop yet, she needs to get this out. I have a feeling that hiding things is something this amazing woman sat cross-legged on the bed in front of me has gotten too used to doing.