"Michael?" I gasped, waking up, shivering in a cold sweat. I reached out blindly, not able to see in the dark room since my eyes had yet to adjust.
"I'm here." Michael's voice came roughly from the foot of the bed and I saw a dark outline shift. Michael patted my knee as he crawled up and rested next to me. "You're okay."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me and I fell back into the pillows with my hands over my eyes, breathing hard. "Nightmare."
"C'mere." Michael wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. "Maybe you should see the counselor."
"I'm not going to see a fucking shrink, Michael." I snapped.
"Okay, okay." Michael said in a rush, rubbing my back soothingly. "We won't then."
"I'm sorry." I sighed, hiding my face in his chest. "I'm such a bitch and it's all my fault we're in this situation. You're just trying to help me."
"It's fine, Lanie. The doctor said the meds might make you a little temperamental."
"I hate this."
"I know." Michael said apologetically, running his fingers through my hair.
"Why do you put up with me?" I said quietly, balling up his shirt in my fists.
"Because I promised you I wouldn't leave. Someone needs to be there for you, whether you like it or not." He held me tighter. "And I also promised your mom."
"You're too good for this." I said sadly. "Spending the nights with me the past few days isn't something you should have to do."
"I don't mind." He yawned.
"Did I wake you up?"
"No." Michael dragged out the "o" and I knew he was lying.
"Liar."
"So maybe you did. It doesn't matter."
"I'm taking up your time." I pointed out.
"It's not like I would be doing anything else. The only thing I do other than eat and play video games is play the guitar and have band practice. And you watch those."
"Still, Michael. You could be going out, meeting people. Not taking care of some girl downstairs." I could barely get out the last sentence before my whole body shuddered and broke out into a cold sweat. I groaned. My head was quiet now, but my body missed the alcohol.
Without a word, Michael grabbed my glass of water off the nightstand and helped me sit up, my head resting against the headboard as I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. This had happened a lot the past few days and I was incredibly grateful Michael was there to help me. He held the glass to my lips before I took take it in my own hands so I ended up just covering his hands with mine.
It felt nice, honestly, being able to spend so much time with Michael after our dry spell. It was a relief for my head and I no longer felt that pulling pain in my chest. We still never discussed the kiss in Santa Cruz, and despite how fucked up everything was, I really wanted to know what he thought.
"Thanks." I smiled weakly and slumped against the headboard, facing him.
Michael nodded, reaching out and pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear and I felt that incredibly heat race across my cheek where his fingertips brushed. "You aren't completely broken."
"Michael..." I sighed, not really wanting to go over this again.
"No listen to me. You aren't completely broken. I know you aren't. And I'm going to try and fix you."
