CHAPTER SIX

Kira Ford woke with a start.

Gasping for air, she sat up in bed. For a moment, the darkness surrounding her made her feel like she was still in the dream…the nightmare. Her heart slammed against the walls of her chest, pounded in her ears. Her eyes darted around frantically, trying to see through the walls of blackness that pressed against her from every side.

Then, slowly, as her eyes began to adjust, she remembered where she was. While the curtains were thick, a few slivers of moonlight managed to break through here and there, enough for her to make out shapes in the room.

There was Sam, bundled under the covers in the bed next to hers.

And Dean, in the cot at the foot of the bed, even though she’d offered to switch with him when she saw how small the cot actually was.

As her heart began to slow, panic easing inch by slow inch, she could hear the brothers’ breathing, the sound filling the otherwise silent room. It was comforting. Proof that there were two other living, breathing people in the room with her. That she wasn’t completely alone.

Taking a deep breath, Kira laid back down, fingers twitching to reach over and turn on the lamp. But that would wake up Sam and Dean. And they would ask what was wrong. And she’d refuse to talk about the nightmare, but them asking would bring it to the surface anyway.

Even now, she was trying not to remember being lost in a large, dark place with no light, or walls. She was sure she was outside, but there were no stars, no moon. Just nothing. Nothing but her friends’ voices calling her name. But, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t answer, couldn’t reach them. And the voices started to drift away. She ran after them, as fast as she could. But they kept moving farther and farther…

Shivering in the dark, Kira turned over onto her side, Sam’s—she was sure it was Sam’s—t-shirt, which was ten sized to big for her, bunching and twisting around her waist. Eyes wide, she stared at one of the cracks in the drapes, at the shaft of moonlight shining through.

Think of something else, she ordered herself. Think of something else.

Immediately, she thought about her mom, and how she would freak when her daughter never came home.

Kira squeezed her eyes shut, pushing those thoughts away. They were as bad as the dream.

Instead, she thought of the team. Dr. O, and Hayley, and the guys. She bet they were looking for her right now. Doing whatever it took to get her home.

Unless they think you’re dead, a scared little voice whispered from the back of her mind. What if they think you’re dead? Then, they won’t be looking for you because they’d think there was nothing to find. Which means you’re stuck here, all alone. Right? Right!

And, suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.

Throwing the covers aside, Kira all but fell out of the bed. Taking deep, gasping breaths, but unable to get enough air, she made a mad dash for the bathroom, not caring that she was doing it blind.

It was no wonder she crashed into the cot.

Pitching forward, she instinctively reached forward to steady herself, one hand landing hard on a t-shirt covered shoulder.

Dean’s reaction was immediate and swift. One hand grabbed her arm in a crushing grip. The other grabbed the collar of her t-shirt. And she had the strong impression she would’ve been sent flying if she hadn’t let out a startled yelp.

“What the…” Dean began, somehow sounding both groggy and alert. “Kira!” And, immediately, he let her go.

Under normal circumstances, Kira would’ve had some kind of reaction to all of this. Would’ve fought back. Something. But the panic still had her in its grip, and all she could do was stammer a weak, “S-sorry,” before stumbling towards the bathroom.

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By the time the bathroom door slammed shut, Dean was fully awake.

Sitting up in the cot, Dean looked towards Sam’s bed. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that his little brother was still a lump under the covers, apparently undisturbed by the commotion. Which proved he wasn’t a hundred percent just yet.

Reaching up to rub his eyes, Dean’s mind replayed what had just happened.

What had just happened?

All he remembered was something crashing into him. He’d reacted the way he’d been taught to react when attacked in his sleep. But he’d held back some, aware—even on a subconscious level—that he was sharing the room, and whatever was waking him might not be an enemy.

Thank God, or Kira could’ve been seriously hurt.

The crash that had woken him up. Something had been off about it. From the force of it, that hadn’t been Kira trying to get to the bathroom in the dark and accidentally bumping into the cot. It felt more like she’d…run into it.

Frowning, Dean turned to stare at the sliver of light that had appeared beneath the bathroom door. What was she doing running in a pitch black room in the middle of the night?

And Dean’s mind went back a few months. A few times—just a few—Sam had woken up reliving the night of the fire. Diving from the bed. Staring up at the ceiling of whatever motel they were in, like he expected to see Jessica there. Screaming her name.

His confusion quickly fading into concern, Dean got up. Not even sure what he was going to do, he padded over to the bathroom and gently knocked on the door. “Kira?” he called softly enough not to wake Sam. “You okay in there?”

For a moment, there was no answer. Just the sound of running water. Then, finally, he heard a faint, “I’m fine.”

Uh huh.

“You sure?”

Abruptly, the water shut off. A few more seconds, and the door was wrenched open.

“Of course I’m fine,” Kira said, sounding slightly defensive. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

As Dean’s eyes adjusted to the light, he studied her blank expression. The just-this-side-of-Goth makeup she’d been wearing earlier was gone, which made her look even younger. Wet tendrils of hair were plastered to her forehead and temples, like she’d just splashed cold water on her face.

“What was that about?” Dean asked, nodding back towards the cot. “You seemed to be in quite a hurry?”

Except for a slight widening of her eyes, her expression didn’t change. “Yeah, well, guess I shouldn’t have had that last soda.”

Dean’s eyebrows peaked. He knew when he was about to be stonewalled. He was, after all, the master.

“So, nothing’s wrong?” he said. “Like bad dreams, maybe.”

This time, Kira had a harder time hiding her reaction. But she tried to, ducking her head and shrugging. “It’s no big deal. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Hey, it was nothin’.”

For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other. And Dean didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even get Sam to talk to him about his nightmares half the time. And, to Kira, he was still a virtual stranger. But he felt like he should be doing something. Most people didn’t panic over a dream like that—which had to have been what happened—unless it was serious.

“I’m really tired,” Kira said dismissively, pushing past him.

And that was that.

Sighing, Dean reached into the bathroom and turned off the light.

“No!” Kira exclaimed.

Dean quickly turned the light back on, more so he could see Kira’s expression than anything else.

She looked embarrassed. And scared.

“Could you leave it on?” she asked, lowering her voice. “Please.”

Slowly, Dean nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

With a weak, trembling smile, Kira got back into bed.

Dean returned to his cot, wondering what Kira’s nightmare had been about. Because, if she’d been dreaming about back home, and things were bad enough to make her react that way, there was no way in hell he was sending her back there. Or turning her over to anyone else who might send her back there.

It wasn’t long before silence once again descended upon the room. But, for two of its occupants, sleep was still far away.

TO BE CONTINUED