Our love couldn't go wrong

Chapter Nineteen :

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It had taken hours to calm Courtney down enough that she could take her meds and go to bed for the night. Neither of them had eaten since lunchtime, but that didn't matter to him; he'd favour hunger over the risk of her accidentally (or intentionally) hurting herself in the midst of a breakdown. She's safe now, though. That's all that matters now when the adrenaline crash hits him, finally allowing him to get the sleep he so desperately needs right now.

Despite the pounding in his head and the occasional hitch in his breath, he falls asleep quickly and sleeps soundly knowing that Courtney is doing the same right next to him, uninjured hand clasped tightly in his.

It's still dark out when he rouses and his first thought is to close his eyes once more and drift back off, but there's just something that won't let him get back to sleep. Huffing, he rolls over - eyes glancing over the spot his friend had been sleeping in last he knew. Except they're not there. Courtney's share of the blankets are all strewn about, as though she'd kicked or thrown them off of her in a rush, and he's quick to pat down the mattress to find it's cold. She's been gone a while. Shit! Scrambling out of bed, he almost trips over the mound of semi-worn pink fluff he quickly places as her piglet stuffy.

The panic is immediate, rushing through his veins as he moves through the apartment. The first thing he checks is the door; it's still locked - the chain on in the same way he'd put it last night - and a surge of relief passes through him upon seeing it, but there's still that immediate worry. A locked door means nothing.

Once he's checked all of the windows, assured that they're still closed and none of them have been broken, his brain is quick to jump the gun. That sinister, cynical voice in the back of his mind tells him to check the bathroom.

You're too late, Shayne. You know she's capable of it, she was left alone and now she's gone. You were meant to protect her, look after her, and you failed. This is all your fault.

He does his best to brush it off, but that doesn't change the way his heart is racing as he tries to twist the doorknob. It won't open. He tries again before knocking, praying Courtney is just on the toilet and is going to tell him she's okay, "Courtney? Courtney, answer me." Waiting with his ear pressed against the door, he waits for a response. There isn't one. "Courtney, I need you to open this door for me. Or if you can't, I need you to let me know. If you don't answer me, I'm going to have to break it down..." He trails off, voice wavering slightly. He's terrified. She's not replied to him and he can't hear anything, and anything could've happened in the time she's been in there, he has to break it down.

Lifting his leg up, he positions himself to kick the door in, right as the knob twists. There's that immediate relief that Courtney is alive and he gives her a quick once over, not spotting any new injuries of sorts (he hopes she'd never do that, anyway).

"Why didn't you answer me?"

He can't hide the hurt in his voice, the anguish in each and every word. And he feels guilty as he watches her frown slightly, blinking heavily as if she's just woken up, but he's still hurt and he can't change that. "I-I didn't mean to. I was 'sleep," She mumbles, arms crossed loosely over her midsection. The bathroom door is open just enough that he can see a couple of cushions and the throw from his couch on the floor, Courtney's phone balanced cautiously on the edge of the sink. "M'sorry. Didn't want to wake you up."

"I wouldn't have minded. Next time, just wake me up, please. I was scared." He sighs, trying to shake it off. It's clear she feels ashamed, anyway, and he doesn't want to make that worse. But maybe it means she won't do it again.

"I...I'll try." That'll have to do for now. "Can...can we make hot cocoa and sit on the couch for a bit. I don't think I want to sleep again."

"Sure, I'll sort the cocoa," Looking at her face, it's hard to ignore the haunted look. He wonders if she had a nightmare and that's why she'd been hiding out in the bathroom. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe someday." She shrugs. "Shayne?"

He turns to face her again, already halfway out of the bathroom. She seems nervous for some reason, something that makes his stomach swirl as though it's playing a game of jump rope, but he puts it down to her being worried that she's upset him. He's not mad. Not really. "Yeah, Court?"

"I love you." She says it so earnestly, looking directly at him with a look he's never seen before. Her eyes shine with appreciation and it makes him want to melt. How could someone hurt her? She's so good, so pure, so easy to love. He just wishes she knew that, herself.

"I love you, too," He hopes she knows how much he means it, but he also doesn't want to scare her. It's different. He's her friend, she's...well, she's his everything, his all. "Now, uh, did you want marshmallows with your hot chocolate?"