The fight to get back to you. (Book 3)

Chapter 8

The week in Costa Rica went smoothly until the last night. Elliot was having fun relaxing and not thinking about work or his past, he was just focusing completely on me and he seemed like a different person for it. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the attention too, having Elliot all to myself, both of us free to just be who we are for a week was amazing.

We walked around during the day and took in the sights, then at night we ate in romantic restaurants and basically blocked everyone but each other out. It was the most clichéd romantic holiday where we kissed under the starlight, fed each other good food and made love in slow and sweet movements.

Nothing was rushed, nothing was hot and heavy, every touch was as if it was our last and I treated it as if it was making each one special. He was perfect to me, every dirty blonde hair on his head, his rough stubble chin and his beautiful eyes. Everything about him was strikingly different to my own features, our skin colours, our eyes, and our hair. Everything about us was opposite but that was what made us fit together so well. Ying and yang.

So on our last night we had enjoyed one more night between the sheets wrapped up in each other before the flight home. Elliot was wrapped up in my arms sleeping tightly and I was lying there thinking that I didn’t want to go home back to reality, when Costa Rica had been the closest thing to heaven I had experienced.

I was stroking his hair out of his eyes when he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to his chest. Unlike the last time I sensed no danger, I could feel his fear and it was like he was clinging to my arm for comfort. I lay still not wanting to panic him, hoping that he would come out of it on his own but he began to mumble in his sleep.

Then he screamed and I don’t mean a childish squall, I mean a loud blood curdling scream. It was terrifying not for myself, but because I couldn’t help him. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the man I love thrash about unable to bring himself out of this torture.

After one particularly nasty flay, I was thrown from the bed and landed roughly on my backside. My head hit the wall and stars burst out across my eyes. It hurt but I couldn’t focus on it I needed to wake Elliot up, I tried to get up but I was dizzy and fell back down again.

“Elliot!”

I pulled myself up and moved to the bed, where Elliot was calming down slightly. It was hard but eventually I managed to wake him up without receiving another blow to my body. I didn’t blame Elliot not in the slightest but I was very slight in comparison to him, where he had a very toned and strong body I had the opposite.

I wasn’t sure I could take many more blows without some serious harm being done, but what else could I do? It is not as if I could walk out and not look back, it would be more painful trying to live without Elliot than taking hits from him during his episodes.

When he woke up his body was shaking, it was strange because I didn’t think he would remember anything that he had dreamt but it seems he did. When I asked him he told me it was like a chemical running through his system, it made him aware of what was happening but completely unable to do anything about it.

The only thing he wasn’t aware of was how much he had been thrashing about and that this had resulted in me almost being knocked out. He reached up to touch me and I smiled as he wrapped his hand around my head to pull me in for a kiss.

Then everything just got worse, his face twisted in confusion and he pulled away from me. Turning to put on a bedside light, he then turned back to me and looked at his hands, my vision followed his and I gasped and my hand went straight to the back of my head.

“Elliot…”

“No Lucas don’t.” He said climbing out of bed.

“But it’s nothing, just a scratch honestly I didn’t even feel it?!”

“Just a scratch?!” He snapped and I flinched unwilling, making the situation worse. “You’re terrified of me!”

“I am not terrified of you I just have a bit of a headache and you’re yelling at me.” I lied.

“What happened Lucas?” He looked seriously at me. “The truth please…I need the truth.”

“I fell out of bed and hit my head on the wall, but I am ok I promise. I didn’t even realise I’d hit it that hard?”

“I did this didn’t I?” He waited for me to answer and when I didn’t. “Well?!”

“Yes… but you didn’t mean to you were asleep Elliot. I got in the way again and I fell out of bed it was more my fault than yours.”

“No Lucas……No.”

I thought he was going to walk out and leave me then, he walked away into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. I heard a bit of banging so I decided to give him his space and not push it, hoping that this would in the end stop him from leaving me.

I heard a guttural cry come from him and I knew he was punishing himself even more but still I remained where I was knowing it would be the worst thing ever to go in there. Around five painful minutes long, he came out of the bathroom with a damp cloth and a towel in his hands. He had the first aid kit tucked under his arms and his eyes were dry and his face devoid of emotion.

He gestured to the dressing table so I sat down in silence as he cleaned up my head and made sure there was no real damage. He dried me off and I felt a small, warm kiss being placed on my head before he walked away from me.

“You don’t need stitches but you may still have a concussion, it is best we stay awake for a few hours just in case.”

I nodded my head and climbed into bed, patting the space beside me. He shook his head and began to dress in his shorts and vest. I jumped up to stop him going but he shook his head again and walked to the door saying that he would be back, he just needed to go for a run to clear his head.

I made him promise me and he kissed me once then left me alone, warning me not to sleep until he got back. I couldn’t have even if I wanted to, until he was back with me my mind would be convinced he was leaving me. I hated this! I hated this so much. I waited so long to have Elliot, I was as patient as I could be because I knew that he would come to me eventually.

Now he has come to me broken, he needs me to fix him. He is violent and hurting himself and I am not sure I can fix him? Can I stay around a man who could seriously hurt me, so far the things that have happened have been quite minor? What happens if next time he’s making food in the kitchen and he stabs me, or if I interrupt a dream and he punches me in the face or strangles me to death?

I can’t fight him off, I am not strong enough. I’d like to believe I am strong enough to see this through to the end but if my research is right there is a strong possibility that there won’t be an ending. A lot of soldiers merely supress the chemical rage but all it takes is a trigger and they snap, can I live my whole life in fear that he will hurt me? Do I believe he really would?

All of these questions, I just wish I had the answers.