(no subject)
He knows that it's a dream, but that doesn't make it any better. In the dream, he can't move, can't speak, can't anything, but Foyet's there, moving around, and he knows what's coming, he knows, and he can't do anything to stop it, just lie there and bleed on the apartment floor and wait for the inevitable to start playing out and he breathes quicker and quicker and, when it happened in real life, he didn't move and he didn't make a noise but now, in his head, he's screaming and he slams awake, the same way that he's slammed awake every night this week and, outside the window, the sound of the sea on the shore.
It's never as tidy as he imagined it being.
Lying there, still breathing hard, he turns his head and looks at Pepper. Sometimes he cries out and wakes her. She never tells him, but he knows that he does.
Now, he just lies there in the dark and he listens to her breathe, waits for his own breathing to return to normal.
It seems to be taking a long, long time.
It's never as tidy as he imagined it being.
Lying there, still breathing hard, he turns his head and looks at Pepper. Sometimes he cries out and wakes her. She never tells him, but he knows that he does.
Now, he just lies there in the dark and he listens to her breathe, waits for his own breathing to return to normal.
It seems to be taking a long, long time.