Söbriety • Mötley Crüe •

87. Nightmares

Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault and the PTSD that Results, Drug Use, and Some Hate Speech.

Nikki's POV

I'm jolted awake when I feel a forceful kick to the back of my left leg, my eyes springing open to see the orange glow of the clock reading "3:14."

"No, no, no, no." Ryan mutters next to me, her hands balled into the comforter as her legs slash across the sheets sharply.

Here we go.

"Ryan. It's okay. It's a nightmare." My voice is hoarse from sleep as I grab onto her arm and try to shake her awake. "It's okay, baby, it's just a nightmare. Wake up."

"No! Get off of me!" Her fist lunges in my direction, but thankfully I've developed great reflexes over the past few weeks and I move to the side just in time for her to punch the air next to me.

"Ryan! Wake up!" I sit up onto my knees and lay my hands on her arms to keep her from thrashing, her quiet mutters turning into surprisingly loud screams.

"Help me!" She sits straight up abruptly, her forehead slamming straight into the side of my skull.

Apparently not that great of reflexes.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Momma?! What's wrong, momma?!" Wylie's worried voice comes through the bedroom door and I jump from the bed, attempting to ignore the pounding starting against my temple.

"Momma's fine. She's just having a nightmare. Come on, you have to go back to bed." She wiggles in my arms as I pick her up, clearly not wanting to leave her mother.

"No! Let me sing to her! She sings to me for my nightmares, I'll sing to her! She'll feel better!" She beats on the back of my shoulder with her tiny fists and I grip her waist tighter as I carry her back to her room.

"Stop it, Wylie. We don't hit! And if I have to tell you that one more time, you're going to be in serious trouble!" I drop her back onto her own bed, her face contorting into a sob.

"I want my momma!" She screams at the top of her lungs and I let out a deep, frustrated breath.

"Wylie, baby, look at me." I cup her chin in my hand, her big green eyes reluctantly flicking up to me. "It is so sweet that you wanna help your momma, but momma is fine and she needs some space when she has nightmares. Okay?"

"I just want her to feel better." Her bottom lip pops out into a pout, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"You know how you can make her feel better?" She sits up straighter, waiting for me to tell her the answer. "Go back to sleep. She'll blame herself for waking you up and it'll make her feel even worse. So, do her a favor and get back into bed."

"Fine." Her teeth grab onto her bottom lip as she huffs out the single word, crawling back under her covers and turning away from me in anger.

"Thank you. I love you." I kiss the side of her head and she groans in annoyance.

"I love you, too."

By the time I get back into the bedroom, Ryan is laying on her back, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. I slowly climb back onto the bed, ready for any more abuse she might be inclined to dole out.

"Are you okay? Are you awake?" I whisper.

"I don't know." She chokes, her eyes already red and swollen from crying.

"Remember what the therapist said. Name three things you can see, hear, and feel." I wrap my arm around her waist as I lay next to her, pulling her body into mine.