Dean made an appearance minutes after I'd regained consciousness and it took my all to focus on him and not the men carrying my attacker out the door. He apologized profusely, saying how he'd thought this trip was a good idea for me. I was assured they'd try to squeeze everything out of my attacker when he woke and he'd be in contact with us soon. Another apology and he'd left us to our own devices, where we decided everyone would get a little rest and then head out at daybreak.
Since we were in no rush Sam and I stayed put, with my head in his lap and him playing absentmindedly with my hair. No complaints came from him, so I assumed that it was fine that we didn't move. Moving sounded like a lot of energy and I was still coming down from a high and regaining some. The others had moved away, giving me some space and occasionally popping into the kitchen for water they never got. I didn't mind the mild hovering, if I hadn't been so tired it might be funny.
At the edges of my calm demeanor, a break down was brewing and pulled at my seams. Slow breaths and focusing on the song Sam started humming helped, kept my mind wondering about its familiarity. There was no room for the thoughts of feeling what it was like to not be able to breathe for the second time in my life. Nope. No room at all.
As I began to drift from my distractions my stomach rumbled, making the loudest noise. Sam stopped his song, a soft laugh escaping him instead. "Want something to eat?"
Before a response could be formed another grumble came, this time accompanied by a sharp pain. Groaning I rolled a bit, the pain dulling but not leaving me. I squirmed on his lap to find a position of comfort, but it was a no go. This felt worse than period cramps.
"How about we move to the bed? It'll feel better than laying on the floor." He sounded worried.
I nodded my head, slowly sitting up from his lap. The world blurred for a moment, then righted itself as he reached his hand down to help me up. Grabbing hold I used it and the counter to get myself up. A slow breath escaped me and then I took a step forward, feeling Sam's hand on my lower back as I moved forward.
The others looked our way, and I gave a small wave, then continued out of the area and down the hall to the room I'd been sleeping in. Sam's hand didn't leave me until I laid back onto the bed, which only felt slightly better than my previous position. Sighing I laid on my back, my stomach settling a bit, but still putting up a fight. A slight adjustment on my part riled it though, and I felt the vomit speed up my throat only for it to go back down.
"You okay?" Sam had taken a seat on the side of the bed I didn't occupy. He watched me closely, his concerned expression only intensifying.
"Yeah. Um, can you hand me my phone?" I pointed to where I'd left it early, making sure that the rest of my body was still. Vomit wasn't something that I wanted to deal with for the moment or ever.
Sam nodded, grabbing the phone from the dresser and handing it to me. I unlocked the screen and tapped onto the app I used for music, the space felt too silent for me. Being down for whatever would fill this void I pressed shuffle and in seconds the blue tooth I'd hooked up to blared out the first chords. While I groaned, Sam let out an obnoxious laugh which I couldn't help but smile at the moment.
"Seems the universe thinks your theme song is the best fit for the moment." Even as he spoke he was still laughing, which made me want to reach out and pinch him. The butt had told me that this song describes me in the first few months of us together and I'd never fully knew how to feel about it. After all it did reference me as a bittersweet type of person.
"And I'm the mean one," I muttered, a faux pout took form on my lips. "Besides you were such a jerk to me when we first met."
The laughter lessened, and he looked at me with a raised brow. "I'm a jerk in general, this we know. Also, you were the one to walk up and tell me how I looked like a pedophile with my mustache without even an introduction. So you have no room to speak and deserve that song."
YOU ARE READING
Wake. Force myself out of bed. Stress. Class. Homework. Breakdown. Sleep. The routine is what got Sidney through life, even though sometimes the stress was just amplified by her other stress. It wasn't her best life, but she was going to try and mak...