Maeve
She's never heard him stutter once. Never seen him struggle to get words out the way he is right now. Even when he snapped at her at the clinic or when they were talking in the cathedral. The words came easy. Some as sharp as daggers and others sweet as honey. Now though? Now they drip with pain and remorse, seeping out of them like an acidic poison that eats away at him until he's nothing. Until he's nothing more than his trauma. Except Maeve isn't one to be deterred. She has seen nightmares. She's lived through her own and so many times had she just had someone, anyone, it would have been better. It would have been bearable.
So even as she asks if she could go, even as she waits with bated breath for him to decide if he wants her here, Maeve vows that she won't make him go through his alone. She withdraws her hand when he moves to get a glass of water, watching as he quickly downs it before he's looking at her again. "I didn't think it was because of me, Jata. I just don't want to make it worse by being here." She doesn't. That's the last thing she wants. The very thought that she might makes her sick, but this isn't about her. It's about him.
And then he shares something that breaks her heart further, makes the ache in her chest grow stronger. Every night. He goes through this every single night. No one here to help him though it. Maeve swallows thickly, seeming to war with herself for a moment before she moves forward to hug him. Her arms wrap around his waist and her cheek presses against his chest. "I could make you some tea... We could sit for a little bit..." She whispers the suggestion to him as she rubs soothing circles into his back, licking her lips as she draws back to look up at him, but not releasing him yet.
"I get them too... Have since I was little." She admits quietly, eyes dropping to look at his chest for a moment before they lift back to his face. "My mom left when I was only three, you see. My father was too deep in the bottle to know what to do with a child." This likely isn't the time to admit this. To share all of this information when he's coming down from a nightmare, but he said he needed to focus on something else and this was something else. "I used to wake up crying and screaming, but instead of holding me or anything like that... He'd scream back. Scream until he was blue in the face before he'd leave. Either he'd leave or he'd stick me outside as if that would make my crying stop."
Maeve tucks her face against his chest as she shares all of this, finding it hard to look him in the eye as she shares this. A story she's never told anyone. "I always thought that if I just had someone who cared enough to stay. Who could handle the crying and the screaming and my fear... Then maybe it wouldn't be so bad." Her throat is tight as she draws back to look up at him now, "I know I'm not Nate. I know I can't make things better, but I can be here for you. You don't have to be alone right now."
So even as she asks if she could go, even as she waits with bated breath for him to decide if he wants her here, Maeve vows that she won't make him go through his alone. She withdraws her hand when he moves to get a glass of water, watching as he quickly downs it before he's looking at her again. "I didn't think it was because of me, Jata. I just don't want to make it worse by being here." She doesn't. That's the last thing she wants. The very thought that she might makes her sick, but this isn't about her. It's about him.
And then he shares something that breaks her heart further, makes the ache in her chest grow stronger. Every night. He goes through this every single night. No one here to help him though it. Maeve swallows thickly, seeming to war with herself for a moment before she moves forward to hug him. Her arms wrap around his waist and her cheek presses against his chest. "I could make you some tea... We could sit for a little bit..." She whispers the suggestion to him as she rubs soothing circles into his back, licking her lips as she draws back to look up at him, but not releasing him yet.
"I get them too... Have since I was little." She admits quietly, eyes dropping to look at his chest for a moment before they lift back to his face. "My mom left when I was only three, you see. My father was too deep in the bottle to know what to do with a child." This likely isn't the time to admit this. To share all of this information when he's coming down from a nightmare, but he said he needed to focus on something else and this was something else. "I used to wake up crying and screaming, but instead of holding me or anything like that... He'd scream back. Scream until he was blue in the face before he'd leave. Either he'd leave or he'd stick me outside as if that would make my crying stop."
Maeve tucks her face against his chest as she shares all of this, finding it hard to look him in the eye as she shares this. A story she's never told anyone. "I always thought that if I just had someone who cared enough to stay. Who could handle the crying and the screaming and my fear... Then maybe it wouldn't be so bad." Her throat is tight as she draws back to look up at him now, "I know I'm not Nate. I know I can't make things better, but I can be here for you. You don't have to be alone right now."
Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending
still waiting for her happy ending
