(18+) His Personal Assistant (Complete)

Ch. 20: Past tense

The feeling I had inside me when I helped him into bed and tucked the covers around him that night, was something I'd never felt before. It was like my whole life before this had been inside a tunnel. And now, I got to feel the fresh air on my skin, hear the birds chirp and the warmth of the sun heating up my whole being. And it was friggin awesome! And by the silly look on Michael's face, I think he felt quite good about this too. About us.

Shit... This is scary. Nonetheless, I literally giggled myself to sleep.

*****

I sat up in bed with a gasp for air. It was pitch dark around me and totally quiet. Then why did I wake up? I never did that. I was usually such a heavy sleeper that you could throw a house party on my face without me waking up.

My eyes gradually adapted to the darkness. I thought I heard something. Maybe burglars? Nah. Neverland was a fortress of security. That was impossible.

There it was again, and I exhaled in relief when I recognized Michael's silent moans. Maybe he had a pleasant dream? I smirked to myself and laid back in bed. But then I heard him moan again, and became a little uncertain. He didn't sound very good. Maybe he was sick?

"No, no, no, no, no..."

I almost couldn't recognize his voice. It sounded hollow in a way.

"STOP!" I heard him yell in pure fear.

He had a nightmare. But then I heard soar sulking from his room and got up. I tiptoed across the hall and opened his door. I heard him toss and turn in his sheeths, and I saw the dark shape of his body writhe in what looked like spasms. Both his body language and the sounds he made revealed a high level of pain and complete and utter terror. It was heartbreaking to stand there without doing anything, but I'd heard that you shouldn't wake up a person with a nightmare.

"No, no, no, no, no...." he groaned again. And then I heard the most gruesome scream I'd ever heard from a man. It sounded like a howling wildcat, before it changed into a more strangling kind of sound.

I believe he was awake now, because he continuously rubbed his hands over his face and breathed so heavily that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. His raw sulks nearly tore me apart.

I slowly walked up to him, not knowing quite what to do, other than to comfort him. So I reached out my hand and touched his elbow, and whispered his name. But instead of being comforted he got even more scared, and in the faint moonlight from the window, two terrified eyes pierced mine.

"Shh. Michael. It's me, Beanie. It's okay."

"No, no, no, no, no..." he groaned again. Was he still asleep? If not, this was a whole lot more complicated than just a simple nightmare. I could tell that much.

"Michael? Can I lie down next to you?"

"No stay away! Go away, Beanie!"

Okay. Now I knew he was awake. He said my name.

"Shh. It's okay. It's gonna b..."

"No, it's not okay!! It's the same thing over and over again."

He cut himself off by pressing his palms so hard against his face that his words became muffled. He choked. Several times.

"Go away, B. I need to... Just... Leave me. Go to your room."

"I'm not leaving, Michael. It was just a bad dream. Please calm down."

"You don't understand."

He dragged the 'a' in the word, and tried so hard to form his words.

"I can't... I..."

"Breathe. Just breathe. You're having an anxiety attack. It will pass. Just listen to me. Breathe."

"No, no, no, no, no...."

"Shhh, Michael. You're safe now."

This wasn't working at all.

"Listen to me. I'm gonna lay down next you now, okay? Please relax."

I carefully crawled into his bed, a little scared if he would hit me or push me down on the floor out of panic. He wasn't himself at all. But he didn't. He just laid on his back panting, while his entire body was twitching and shaking.

"Michael? Do you hear me? I'm gonna lie down. Nothing bad will happen. You're safe. Shh... Breathe, baby. Breathe."

I lied down next to him as close I could possibly get, and wrapped my arm tightly across his chest. He was drenched in sweat and his heart was pounding like crazy.

"Breathe. Please calm down for me. I'm here. Slow inhales, then exhale all the way from your stomach. You're safe, baby."

I don't know how long it took, but he slowly regained control over himself, and his heart rate slowed down. I whispered a few words in his ear now and then, and stroked his chest and neck. I brushed strings of moist hair away from his forehead. It was just as sweaty as the rest of him. And when I felt he was calm enough to be able to talk, I adjusted myself so I could rest my head on his chest. I tried to make eye contact, but gave up.

"Can you tell me about the dream?"

No response.

"Please?"

Still no response. So I was patient and just waited.

"I don't want to talk about it," he finally said.

"Can I turn on the light on your nightstand?"

"No."

"Okay."

We just lied there in silence while I stroked my fingers over his warm skin. Over his chest. His collar bones. Up his exposed neck and along his jawline. I even let my index and middle finger brush over his lips, and he kissed them absentmindedly.

"You need to talk about it, you know. Or else it's gonna eat you alive."

"I don't want to."

"I'm not taking no for an answer. Tell me what happened in your dream."

Still nothing.

"You're such a stubborn ass, Michael. If you don't speak to me, I'm gonna have to sit on you until you do. And I am naked, and hardly even sorry, but I assure you it will be awkward as hell."

He swallowed hard and lifted his head to look at me. Finally.

"You're naked?" he stammered.

"No, not entirely. But enough to distract you."

He smiled.

"See? It worked."

Then he giggled a little.

I waited and hoped he would start to talk by himself. But he didn't.

"I'm not stupid, you know. It was from the accident, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded again.

And then he started talking.