A Pirate's Love

Constant

Elenor's POV:

A glimmer of consciousness flickered to my head in the darkness. My body felt heavy and weighed down by a force as I lay in my bed. I tried to open my eyes, yet they would shut involuntarily, blocking my view of whatever was holding me down. My heart began to race erratically, anxiety filling my veins. Frantic I could not control my own body, I tried to sit up from where I lay. I was pushed back by the force and held down with each attempt, making me more anxious.

"Oh, Elenor," the voice of my nightmares whispered in a low moan, shooting my eyelids open. In a hazy view, Dan Deranged's evil expression flashed before my face. I desperately tried to exert a scream, yet my voice choked up as if I had no control over my tongue. I felt him all over my body, forcing memories of our moments together on The Funeral of Innocence. Pleasure-filled moans echoed through my head. I let out a voiceless scream again and attempted to forcefully kick him off of me, to no avail. "Get him off of me," I tried to yell, yet nothing escaped my lips. The creeping, familiar feeling of helplessness and being less than washed over me. Voiceless scream after voiceless scream, I finally managed to let out a breathy wail as my head became less groggy with sleep. I suddenly felt hands support under my neck and lower back, then was pulled to the other side of the bed. Like a phantom, Dan Deranged's face faded from my view, then was soon replaced with a terrified Sam.

"A dream, Elenor. It's only a dream," he said with wide eyes, leaning over me. "You were dreaming." The feeling of my body returned to me slowly, revealing an ache from my head to my thighs. My limbs were unwieldy, exhausted from the terror as well as residual alcohol. I lay in a state of confusion in Sam's arms as he caressed my cheek and brushed my hair away. Adrenaline still pumped through my veins roughly, yet somehow he looked more frightened than I felt. My mouth was dry and tacky from the rum we had consumed, leaving a sweet aftertaste. Was I dreaming as he said, was I hallucinating, or was it real? My head began pounding at the thought, forcing me to shut my eyes at the pain. I felt like I was going mad. My ears rang in high-pitched bells, causing the headache to worsen. I felt Sam shift from underneath me, then lay my head gently on the pillow. My heart rate began to slow, but my body still felt as if it were melting through the bed and into the floor. Sam shuffled around the room, bumping glass around the wood. His hand returned to the back of my neck, tenderly sitting me up. My eyes flickered open, revealing a glass in front of me. "Drink," Sam said, pushing the glass to my lips. A cool liquid filled the inside of my mouth, then traveled down my esophagus, hydrating all that was parched.

"He was here again," I let out with a hoarse throat. "He was holding me down." I shut my eyes slowly as my head spun, making me nauseous.

"Who was here?" Sam asked calmly as if already knowing what I was going to say. I opened my eyes to look at him, his expression inviting me to speak freely.

"Dan Deranged," I let out in an unexpected whimper. "No matter the distance I cannot escape him. He's always here. I have to relive him when I least expect it. I'm going mad, Sam, and he's haunting me." Sam grasped my hand, gently squeezing it as he thought of words to say.

"Let's think about this," he began. "Dan Deranged cannot be a ghost, as he is not yet dead. Maybe because your father spoke of you seeing him again, your mind internalized the fear of him," he pondered.

"You're telling me I'm crazy," I said, my head spinning more.

"No, El," he said softly, rubbing his thumb at the back of my hand. "I think you've been through a trauma that is difficult to process. The less you talk about it the more it shows up in your dreams." My heart ached at his endeavor to rationalize my thoughts. I could feel his empathy, yet I could not push away the feelings in my body.

"You don't know what I have been through," I said, my voice choking in my throat as tears burned in the back of my eyes.

"No, I don't know," he agreed. "But I can see how much it torments you. You were writhing in your sleep," he mentioned, uneasiness in his eyes.

"I have never felt so helpless as when I was trapped on that damned ship," I spoke with bitterness. "Every night I fought for my life against him, until I couldn't anymore. I never want to feel like that again." Sam looked at me intently as I spoke, paying utmost attention. "Sam, I know I've put up this front that I am independent enough to take care of myself because I have always had to, but that's exactly what it is. It's a front. I've lost everything. This is breaking me and I don't know how to find relief. I don't know how to stop myself from going mad." My eyes searched his desperately, anxiety bubbling up at my confession. He did nothing but stare at me and hold my hand firmly, contemplating my words. Finally, he broke eye contact to look at our hands. He brought them up to his face, gently kissing my clenched knuckles that were clasped in his. A comforting shiver traveled through my body, calming me down.

"You are not going mad," he said quietly, flicking his eyes back up to mine. "And you don't have to pretend with me. I will be here for you, no matter what happens." We sat in a moment of silence as I wrestled with thoughts in my head. Thoughts of what was to come in the morning, and thoughts of what would come after. Sam gave me a knowing look, giving me confirmation that I could speak my mind.

"I fear that because of what happened, nobody will see me as I once was. A part of me was lost at sea, and I would never be accepted if anyone were to find out. If Jake dies, I fear that I will never find love again. Then all will truly be lost," I blurted out. Once the words came out I realized how foolish the sentences sounded. Nevertheless, they were unprocessed emotions that needed to come out.

"Your feelings are valid, but that does not mean the fears will come true," Sam responded. "We don't know what will happen in the future. Besides, who's to say you aren't as acceptable as you once were? Dan Deranged? Because as far as I'm concerned, he has always been a liar." The moonlight shone through a crack in the drapery, illuminating his eyes and cheekbones, revealing a sincerity I had never seen before.

"You have always been my constant," I realized out loud. A hint of a smile appeared on his face as he slowly propped himself on his side to lay next to me.

"For as long as you need me," he let out, rubbing his forehead, no doubt trying to cast out a headache as well.

"I just wish that the part of me which was lost would return to me. I don't feel like a whole person anymore," I said as I shifted to lay on my side, facing him. "I feel less than that. I feel like half, if you will."

"I'll go with you tomorrow if you wish," he whispered. "As your other half, so you can feel whole." My heart warmed at his offer, melting away my fear. I tucked myself closer to his chest in response, then wrapped my arm around his bare torso. His back was warm and firm in hesitation against my hand, then soon relaxed as he wrapped his arm around me. We embraced each other, feeling each other's lungs inhale and exhale. His heart was steady in his chest, easing mine to a regular pace.

"Thank you, Sam," I responded, grateful that he was willing to go.

"Maybe you'll feel different after he's gone," Sam hummed, referring to my nightmare. The ache in my chest deepened for a moment, burning for that to be true.

"I hope so," I muttered against his skin, soaking in his warmth. He brushed his thumb between my shoulder blades gently, putting me into a trance-like state. I began drifting into a twilight sleep, comforted by my other half, unafraid of the morning to come.