You're Not Alone

Doesn't Matter Now

Danny continued to yell at the tv screen, "no! Stop!"
"Danny!"
"Stop! Leave her alone! Stop!"
"Danny!"
The marine continued his protests, only stopping when a soft, concerned pair of lips pressed against his own. Once he registered what was happening, his arms encircled the body pressed against his.
"Are you okay?" Linda laid her head on his heart, listening to the rapid beats. She kissed his heart, rubbing her hand along his chest.
"What?"
"You were having a bad dream."
"Oh." Danny felt his face flush.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No... get off."
Linda lifted her head, "What?"
"Get off." He slightly pushed her away, and stood up.
"Danny, i-" she grimaced when the en-suite door slammed shut. "Oh, Danny..." she laid back down, realizing two things: that her husband needed help, and that she left her T-shirt in Sean's room. She didn't care about the T-shirt- the cool covers felt good around her hot skin. She was determined, however, to help her husband.
In the bathroom, Danny sat in the closed toilet, his head in his hands. He refused to let his wife see him cry; he refused to let her see him broken.
Once his tears subsided and his breathing went back to normal, he went to the sink. The cold water felt refreshing as it hit his hot face. He sighed, shaking his head. It was just one nightmare, it didn't mean he was crazy or slipping into nothingness. He was okay.
Danny peeked his head out the door, trying to see if Linda was awake. Her soft snores told him she had been asleep for a little bit. He carefully made his way to the bed, and slipped under the covers. As soon as he got comfortable, Linda rolled over, snuggling next to him. He sighed and rubbed her arm, thinking of things that would keep him awake.
**********
Linda came down the stairs with a fussy Sean. He had already had his breakfast, been changed, sucked his pacifier.... and still he wailed. All he could really do was eat, cry, and poop. Being a five week old infant meant he had some more reflexes and movements, but not much. She sat him in his high chair, then headed straight for the coffee. She looked to her husband as he shuffled into the kitchen. "Morning."
Danny grunted in response, then looked to Sean. "Aren't you gonna do something about that?"
"First off, he's a him. Second, I've been trying! He's had his breakfast, been changed and burped. He just.... I don't know." She sighed and handed Danny a cup of coffee.
"Maybe something hurts." He ser his coffee on the table.
"He's too young to be teething. Maybe his ears hurt, I don't know."
Danny picked Sean up, "maybe he needs something to listen to. What do you usually play for him?"
"This." Linda hit the play button on the tape player, the sounds of NKOTB coming out. "It's my mixtape. 80s, 90's. He seems to really enjoy it."
Sean stopped crying, letting out a little coo. He rested against his daddy's shoulder, suddenly contented.
Linda raised her eyebrows, "he's got good taste."
"Yeah," Danny agreed sitting down.
"Did you sleep good? Y'know, after you woke up?"
Danny shrugged, chugging some coffee. "Doesn't matter now."
Linda frowned, but let it be. She knew he didn't want to talk about it. Eventually, though, she was going to make him talk.