There it is again.
"Shh," I hush Ellie, listening more carefully.
"What…?" Seven asks in a sleepy rumble, but I hush him, too.
He sits bolt upright and springs from the bed like a coiled snake. I hear the tearing of Velcro and then the click of a magazine sliding into place as he checks it and chambers a round.
"What is it, Ro?"
"I don't know," I admit in a whisper as Ellie starts to whine again. "I thought I heard?—"
My blood turns to ice in my veins as a bloodcurdling scream fills the cabin.
Elijah.
Bile rises in the back of my throat as I tear past Seven toward the door, throwing it open to thud into the hall. I almost fall down the stairs in my haste and I have to pick myself up off the floor at the bottom to sprint on unsteady feet down the hall.
"Ro!" Seven bellows after me, but I can't hear what he says next. It's swallowed up by another scream that makes my eyes burn and my throat feel like it's filling up with razor blades.
"Elijah!Elijah!"
Seven curses behind me as he shouts something at someone, and Ellie's claws are scrambling over the hardwood as if someone's holding her back, but I can't worry about that right now.
Not with Elijah's sounds of anguish still coming through his door.
I yank it open and race inside, looking for someone to rip apart with my bare hands, but I find no one. No one except for the tangled shape of Elijah in his bed as he shouts again, a sound that sinks into my flesh like broken glass.
"E-Elijah?"
I rush to him. His skin is hot and slippery under my touch, and my mind immediately conjures up images of blood, but the hall light outside his room flicks on, and I don't see any red. Just gray. Gray sheets and blankets. His pants tangled up in them. His sleep shirt darkened with sweat across the middle of his chest.
The tendons in his neck strain as he twists his fists in the covers and thrashes through another choked scream that ends in a sob that's like being punched in my own chest.
He's asleep, I realize, as Seven brushes past me to go to him, and my hands lift to a hover but don't touch. I can't remember what to do. Are you supposed to wake people from night terrors? Or is that sleepwalking?
He shakes and chokes out another sound that physically hurts to hear and I'm rooted in place on the floor, unable to breathe through the aching in my chest as Seven takes my place. He finds handholds on both of Elijah's shoulders, pinning him to the bed. The touch wakes him in an instant, and Elijah growls, trying to attack Seven.
"It's me. It's me, Eli. You're safe.You're safe."
It takes a second to register, but when it does, Elijah sags against the mattress.
"Fuck." The curse is a whimper on Elijah's lips when Seven releases him.
"I thought the night terrors were gone for good."
Elijah sniffs and shudders, still trying to get control of his breathing and the sobs I can see still swelling in his chest. "So did I. G-guess we were b-both wrong."
"Shit,Ellie," Atticus barks from out in the hall, and then she's racing in the door, jumping up onto Elijah's bed with a panicked bark, licking at the sweat on his forehead with a whine in her throat.
Elijah, disoriented, recoils, but as he lays a palm on her head, she settles, lying next to him. She nuzzles into the crook of his neck, laying her body next to his like she does for me when she knows I'm upset.
She's the best damn dog in the world.
Elijah sags into the mattress, his eyes closed, but his chest still heaving as he brings himself back.
I still hear the echo of his screams in my head. I don't think I'll ever be able to get them out.
"I'll grab the heating pad," Atticus mutters from the door, going to Elijah's dresser to pull out a brown pad and plug it in beside the bed. He sits on the edge of it, dragging Elijah's hand to rest atop the pad and then wrapping the extra length of it around his scars. When he gives it a tentative squeeze to push the warming fabric against his injury, Elijah sucks air in through his teeth.
