Page 25 of Imperfect Skin

“Mouse, wake up!”

No, that wasn’t Daddy. He wasn’t here to save me. I was getting what I deserved.

“Mitchell Johannsen, wake up!”

I blinked up into Cal’s worried eyes, pulled out of the nightmare. I became aware of searing pain in my back, and Cal’s rough hand holding my face.

“Are you back with me, little Mouse?” Cal peered at me as if he was trying to look into my brain. It was disconcerting and scary but also felt good, like someone cared about what was going on in the mess that was my brain.

I wasn’t sure if I was okay. Had I ever been?

Part of my head was still back in that room. I couldn’t shake the last vestiges of the dream. I winced, the welts on my back pulling where I’d rolled over during the night.

“Hold on, let me help.” Cal sat up and gently helped me into a sitting position. I still felt nauseous and cold, and I missed the warmth of Callum’s hands as soon as he stopped touching me. I started to shiver when Callum got off the bed.

“W-where are you going?” I felt like I was shaking out of my skin, my nerves on a razor’s edge.

“I’m not going far, just to get you a fresh glass of water and some pain pills. I forgot to bring them upstairs.” I took a deep breath before I nodded, not trusting my voice not to crack, and watched Cal leave the room. I looked around the bed, searching for the familiar green fur, and found Oscar on the edge of the bed. I must have flung him there during my nightmare.

“Hey dude, nearly lost you over the edge.” I plucked him up and hugged him to my chest, breathing a little easier. I was antsy and out of sorts. I wanted Da—Callum—to hurry up.

Shit. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I was just starting to think that I should get up and find Cal when he came back into the room carrying a tray filled with something that smelled good. He set the tray down at the end of the bed and took the small bottle of pills and opened it, tipping two pills out into his palm and passing them to me.

“Here you go.” Callum handed me an opened bottle of water. “Drink this to wash them down, then I have something nice for you.”

I swallowed the pills quickly, eager to see what else Callum had brought upstairs with him.

Once he was satisfied I’d taken the pills and my back wasn’t bleeding, he brought the tray up to me. My favourite cow mug, full of hot chocolate with the baby marshmallows I loved floating on top, and a plate full of toasted cheese sandwiches. At my quizzical smile, he gave a lopsided grin.

“Can always tell when you’ve had a bad night. I can smell these bad boys cooking.” Callum pointed to the toasted sandwiches. He sat down alongside me and picked up his own mug—a very boring brown one, not like my cow mug.

“Mum always said that cheese late at night gave you nightmares, but I swear it works the other way round for me.” Reaching out, I grabbed one of the toasties and took a bite. How could I explain how the taste of the strong Red Leicester cheese and the toasted bread made me feel safe? Like I was ten years old again and sitting in front of the fire, eating toasted sandwiches while annoying Simon. It was the taste of home, and comfort, and all the things I missed.

I alternated between sipping my hot chocolate and eating my toasties. The terror of my nightmare, while not forgotten, felt distant for the moment as I sat there eating my favourite comfort food with Oscar and Callum nearby. Soon I was full, but I resisted the urge to lie back down. The thought of having another nightmare made me feel leery about trying to sleep again, at least for a while.

Cal, as if reading my mood, grabbed the remote to the TV that sat on the tall chest of drawers and turned it on. SpongeBob appeared on the screen and Cal chuckled softly. “Alice was watching her shows in here yesterday. Want me to change the channel?”

“No, leave it.” I was embarrassed to admit the yellow sponge was just the sort of show I needed right now. The nightmare had left me shaken and scared, but Callum’s gentle doting and the taste of the sandwiches helped smooth the jagged edges of the hurt. In their place, my brain had gone all fuzzy and warm. It wasn’t like how my brain went when I hit subspace. It was softer, more like how I felt at Christmas, playing with Rhys. I didn’t know how to explain it, or if I could. I just relaxed and let myself enjoy it for a little while. Callum smiled at me when I got the giggles over something Patrick did, and I grinned back, taking another large bite of my toasted sandwich.

Once we finished eating, Cal got up and moved the tray and empty plates away before climbing back into bed. He settled back on his pillows like he was ready to stay awake with me all night. Guilt started to gnaw at me. Just because I couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean I should make Cal stay awake.

“I can go crash in my room. You don’t have to stay awake with me.”

“Mouse, come here.” He patted the bed alongside him.

I grabbed Oscar and moved closer to Callum. I fidgeted, not sure if I should lay back on him like I had before. I wanted to cuddle again. I wanted to fall asleep listening to the steady, strong thump of his heart.

Cal arched a brow and beckoned me closer. “Rest your head here,”—he pointed to his chest—“and lay on your side.”

He waited patiently for me to get comfortable. Without overthinking it, I stretched up and kissed Cal’s bearded cheek.

“Thank you. I know I’m an ungrateful shit at times, but all this, and you coming to The Pit…” I dropped my head to his chest, not sure what else to say.

“You don’t have to thank me little Mouse. I’ll always be there for you, even when you’re being a little shit.”

Eight

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