Open Up The Ocean

Chapter Five

Michelle was woken rather abruptly from the amount of movement going on over on the other side of the tent. She looked over to see Peter facing towards her, his brows knitted together tightly and his arms wrapped around his torso so tightly she thought his biceps might explode.

She wasn't stupid, she knew he was having a nightmare. A bad one at that, judging by the amount of whimpers escaping his mouth. As bad as she felt, she remembered once reading that you should wake up someone from a nightmare, so she didn't.

Peter looked like he was in pain, so much physical and emotional pain and Michelle felt it too. She felt like she'd been stabbed in the stomach and the knife was being twisted around and around. If she was feeling this kind of second-hand pain, she couldn't imagine having it first hand.

She gulped while she watched, feeling as if she was invading his privacy. Her heart dropped as she watched his hair get matted to his forehead with sweat and eventually, a tear roll down his cheek. Michelle had never seen him cry. She wasn't quite sure if sleep crying was the same as real crying but the situation seemed enough for anyone to cry, even if she didn't know what he was dreaming about.

His breathing picked up until it was so fast, MJ was sure he might combust. With one last final gasp, he sat up, his eyes wide open. Michelle squeezed her eyes shut and felt his own burning into the side of her face, she peered through her eyelashes and watched him hunch over.

The boy held his head in his hands and his knees to his chest. He remembered what May use to tell him, to count through the periodic table with each breath. It was nerdy and he'd never tell anyone that's what he did, but it worked. His breathing was shaky as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair, grimacing at the feeling of sweat on his fingers. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled a sweater on. It was gross, the fabric clinging to the sweat but he knew he would freeze if he didn't put one on.

Michelle nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt her hand be lifted into the air. Peter was holding her hand in both of his, his finger tracing the different bones and veins as if to make sure she was actually there. She listened to his breathing go from large, deep ones, to somewhat normal again. It took everything in her to stop her finger from twitching and to remain limp, not wanting him to know she was awake.

She heard him leave the tent, she didn't blame him. It wasn't exactly a big space and was stuffy even at the best of times. The air was probably thicker than a bowl of oatmeal in there. Michelle took a deep breath herself and checked her phone, wincing at the sudden brightness. It was just about to hit 4 am, so they'd only been asleep maybe three or so hours. She forced herself to stay awake for a while, but after realising he probably wasn't going to come back, got out of the tent.

Peter was sat in front of the dying embers that remained from their small fire. His eyes were closed and his head rested in the palm of his hand. He'd never felt so grateful to be outside before, the outside air might be biting his skin but it was soothing as he breathed in and out.

Michelle stood outside the tent, Peter's blanket in her hands. She gulped herself, suddenly feeling rather nervous as she worked up the guts to walk over to him. Michelle sat down next to him, the whole situation feeling far too familiar to mere hours ago.

"Um," She extended the blanket out to him, whispering. "I thought you might be cold."

Peter didn't reply, just took the blanket and draped it over his lap, fiddling with a loose thread. Michelle, still wearing his other sweater, tugged at the sleeves and looked from him to the ground, not quite sure what she was supposed to do next.

"Are you okay?" She finally decided on asking.

"Fine," Peter muttered, still not looking at her.