My New Boyfriend (Sequel to My New Brother)

Part 10

I have come to the realization that you guys would like me to update and I haven't updated in possibly two months (idk, I don't keep track) so here is another update for you lovelies! I am back in school now sadly and have a lot of stress from it. I'm all dizzy and overwhelmed with school work. I spend hours a night studying and doing homework and it is hard to keep up with things like stories. My sincere apologies!

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"Ahhh!!!!!!" 

I bolted upright in bed, looking beside me toward the source of noise. It came from Braden's perfect lips. He was sweaty and shaking. And he was asleep...

I sprang into action, taking him in my arms, much like what he did for me last night. Well, a few hours ago actually. 

"Shhh." I shushed him quietly. His outburst suddenly stopped, only to be followed by tears. And the tears did not stop, no matter what I said. 

"It's just a nightmare again." I assured him. I didn't like to see him cry. I had seen him cry quite a few times and it was not pleasant. Not one bit. 

He kept screaming and crying, like a little kid. 

"Hallie, it's-it's so horrible!" He said. "It's gross, it's so gross I-"

"Shhh." I said again. I knew what he was talking about. It didn't take a genius to know what he was dreaming about.

"Your safe now." I assured him.

He was still crying. "Being safe now will never help though. I can still feel it, see it happening, it's so gross Hallie! I'm so dirty! So ugly, so disgusting!"

At that point I started crying too, which only made him cry harder, backing up in a corner, huddling himself closely. 

I hated to see him like this. It is one of his lowest  points (now that he is living with us, that is). 

After a while, he stood up slowly, only to stumble into the bathroom without a word. I heard the shower turn on and sighed, wiping my tears away. He didn't deserve this, no one did. The incident was tramatizing enough, why would he have to relive it every day in his dreams as well?

My mom came in shortly after Braden went to the bathroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

"What was that noise Hallie, I thought I heard screaming."

I looked up at my mom, for her to immediently question my puffy, red eyes.  

"Braden, he-he came back a few hours ago. I would've told you but you were sleeping and it was late and we immediently fell asleep. He woke up from a nightmare. It was-about the rape. He was freaking out and crying and screaming. I was worried about him and crying too I guess." I said.

There wasn't much for my mom to say about that, except that she would have to tell the doctor that Braden's medicine wasn't working well and that he needed more intensive therapy. I for one, didn't think he needed that at all but didn't argue. I wanted to help him so bad, but the truth is, I really couldn't.

He is my brother, my boyfriend, my best friend, my everything. But I don't know how to help him. Sure, I can make him forget for a short amount of time. But the past will haunt him forever. I am not enough to help him. And that realization hit me hard, making me feel like utter shit. 

Mom left after a minute or two, probably going to spread the news of Braden's return to my dad. 

Braden came out of the shower about thirty minutes later, hair wet and shaking. He was wrapped in a towel. 

"I don't feel so good." He said, laying down in his bed, beads of water dripping onto the pillow and practically soaking the bed under him.

I lied down next to him, wrapping my arms around him once again. He was shivering.

"Do you have a fever? You feel warm..." I said.

He didn't really reply, just made a small grunt. The grunt soon turned to whimpering and then crying.

"Hallie, I-I cut myself in the bathroom. I'm sorry!' He said.

"Let me see." I was kind of expecting for him to tell me that piece of information.

"It's on my thighs." He told me. It was evident that he didn't want me to look. 

"Did you bandage them up?" I asked.

He nodded quietly.

"I'm sorry." He said again. "I had to cut his hands away from me. I didn't mean to, I-"

"It's okay." I said. I was more focused on calming him down. We would deal with his well-being later, but for now I needed him to get back into the state he usually was in.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed that all his hard work of trying to stop the cutting, all his visible improvements, were now drowning in the shower drain.

His relapse was major, the nightmare triggering it. I felt so bad for him...and worst of all...I didn't know how to help him anymore.