The Tour

twenty seven / nightmares

I turned down the hallway of the Sander's house, calling out to Will. Evan had been out playing baseball with some of his local teammates, and he had just called me and asked me to give Will a ride to get food with them after their practice. Supposedly he had already texted Will this morning, so he should have been expecting me around one. That being said, it was 1:15 and he had yet to respond.

The door to his bedroom was closed, but I could hear a faint voice murmuring. "Will?" I asked again as I slowly opened the door.

Will was sprawled on his bed, the sheets twisted around him. The blanket had been thrown to the foot of the bed, and the brown hair that wasn't plastered to the sweat on his forehead was pushed chaotically in different directions.

"Stop, stop, don't do that," he mumbled into the pillow. He continued on for a few seconds before his voice started to get louder. "Help, I can't breathe, somebody get me out, help!"

I broke out of my stupor and stepped quickly over to the side of his bed. "Will," I spoke, resting my hand on his side and grimacing as my hand was immediately soaked through his shirt, "Wake up, come on, it's just a dream."

He started to thrash as soon as I touched him, continually yelling about getting help. Eventually I managed to shake him hard enough that he woke up, sitting up suddenly. Will set his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes before looking at me and blinking a few times.

A few seconds later he seemed to comprehend what was happening. He turned away from me and set his feet down facing the door that led out to the beach. His soaked shirt was being pulled over his head a second later, displaying muscular arms and a back that was covered in shining scars.

I stepped slowly around the corner of the bed towards him. The majority of Will's face was covered by his hands, but I could see him trembling as he drew in shaky breaths. As gently as possible, I sat down a few inches away from him.

"Sorry," he exhaled after taking a few more steadying breaths.

"How long has this been happening for?"

"It hasn't stopped."

I tried to wrap my head around that for a few seconds. "Are you getting help for it?"

"I told my parents they stopped when I left the hospital," he whispered, still with his hands pressed against his eyes.

"Oh, Will," I inched closer to him and placed an arm gently around his shoulders. He sat up slightly and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat in silence for a few minutes before I decided that I needed to bring it back up.

"You told your physical therapist that you were doing fine though?" I looked down at him.

"I'm not depressed."

"I'm not saying that you're depressed, but if your dreams are happening all the time, and if they're about the same thing that I'm guessing they are, this sounds like it could be PTSD."

He lifted his head off of my shoulder and gave me an incredulous look. "You don't actually think that I have PTSD, do you? Like people in the military have?"

"I mean, it was a pretty traumatic experience," I shrugged.

Will ran a hand through his sweaty hair before sighing. The walker was in front of him a second later as he walked towards his door. "I'm gonna shower, I'll be back in five and we can go."

"You still want to go?" I asked as he turned back around to look at me. The vision of a young, shirtless, muscular guy walking around bent over a walker still didn't seem right. It felt like the gray metal should belong to my grandparents, not a nineteen year old.

He cracked a cynical smile, "Life doesn't stop for people with PTSD."

I shook my head and walked out onto the back deck that was overlooking the beach. Noah and Will's surfboards were piled against the railing on the far side, but some of them had fallen over and no one had bothered to right them. There were a few longboarders out cruising over some smaller waves. They moved gracefully back and forth on their boards, and I wondered if I knew any of them. It was too far to tell, and probably not worth the slight hassle of walking down to the beach to meet someone I had likely forgotten existed.

Good to his word, Will was back out a few minutes later, looking thankfully less sweaty than previously. We settled back into our usual routine of driving after he told me where he was meeting the guys.

A few minutes of silence later, I decided that I might as well bring his episode back up. "Are you going to see anyone about it, or at least tell your doctors?"

"Riv, I appreciate it, but I think it's really okay. It will go away eventually, and I'm surviving for now. I don't want to see another doctor. Besides, that stuff costs money."

"Don't lie, I already know that your family hit their deductible for the year thanks to you, it would probably be free to see someone with your insurance," I paused, realizing that there might be an easier option to start with. "Okay, better idea, how about you just talk to Jack about it and see what he says?"

    I could see Will look over at me from the corner of my eye as I looked at the intersection. "Jack, as in Jack from therapy?"

"Yeah, I mean he's a veteran, and he may have dealt with similar issues. If not, he probably at least has some exposure to it and could possibly give you advice about seeing someone."

Will sat in silence for a few minutes. "Or you could just listen to me on a baby monitor, and every time I start screaming you can just wake me up and give me a hug. It will be a great solution."

"Especially when I'm halfway around the world and actually have to sleep before a competition," I rolled my eyes at him.

He laughed at that, but didn't actually answer my question. At this point, I was worried that he was just going to ignore it until we got to the restaurant. A few turns later that appeared to be the case as I pulled up into the handicapped spot.

Will opened his door and scooched himself enough to grab his walker from the back and stand up out of the car. He took one step forward before turning back around, leaning forward over his walker in some sort of time wasting exercise. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

"Okay, I'll talk to Jack," he sighed, and then smiled. "Thanks for the ride Riv, see you soon."

I blushed slightly when he winked before turning around, making his way up the ramp. His friends spotted him a second later, running from their table outside and yelling in excitement as they engulfed him in hugs. Evan trailed behind the other two baseball players, laughing at their antics. He waved at me and mouthed "thanks", which I returned with a thumbs up before heading out of the parking lot.

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This story is now 73 pages long and 40,000 words on my google doc, so that's kinda fun. In other important news, I am currently still mourning the Braves loss and it's a tough one.

Hope y'all are thriving, and thanks for reading :)