Here's another chapter! This time it's Kim's POV. Hope you like, so please R&R!
Kim turned in her bed again, desperately trying to snatch a few hours of sleep. Finally giving up, she got on her feet and walked to the opposite wall, trying to listen better at the cause of her insomnia. It was her dad again. She could hear him tossing and turning, mumbling something in a voice so unlike anything she had ever heard. Biting her lip, she went to her door, opened it silently and walked as slowly as possible to her father's bedroom. All that stood between her and his private hell was a few feet and a wooden door. But Kim just stood there, contemplating, as she did every other night when this happened, whether to go in or not. Of course she knew the answer even before she came out of her room. And at this unwelcome knowledge, her thoughts wondered to other things. Things like the father who seemed like a stranger more and more often. She'd been staying with him for the past few weeks, making sure that he would be all right after all that he'd gone through. He and CTU had refused to let her on to the horrible details, but she knew enough to know that her father wouldn't be all right. Knowing was different than admitting it though. And like the dutiful daughter she believed herself to be, she didn't ask questions, just like everyone else, fully aware that the answers would not be what she wanted to hear. So she stood there every night, every night she heard her father moan and whimper as he battled with his nightly demons, she would stand there and wonder whether she should go in. She knew he wasn't healing. She knew he was hurting and in pain. She knew he was scarred, and would be, for the rest of his life. And like most other nights, when she arrived at these conclusions, her mind would drift to a memory not long ago.
"I'm just gonna go and pick up something for us to eat okay? I'll be back in a little while." Kim announced to her father, who simply nodded but said nothing. With a sigh she grabbed her keys from the small table near the door and reached out for the handle. "Do you want anything in particular? To eat I mean…" she tried again, desperate to hear, to see something of her dad, a sign of the man he used to be. Her spirit deflated though, when he just shook his head and ambled to the bathroom. Her heart suddenly quickened and she asked in a shaky voice "Where are you going dad?" She knew perfectly well, and had been informed at length by the CTU medical department, that her father could possibly be suicidal. She was shocked at first when they'd said it, and it had been a major factor in her rare stay with her dad.
"Just taking a shower." He responded dully, voice hoarse and dry from reasons that she didn't even want to start thinking about. Where was the strong, brave timbre that was so characteristic to his voice? Where was the assuring and confident tone that had comforted her and her mother? Kim didn't know, so she just nodded her head and went out the door, the atmosphere having suddenly become choking. She stood outside for a few minutes before going to her car and getting inside. It was only when she had started her car that she noticed she had forgotten her purse. With a huff of annoyance she exited the vehicle and went back, biting her lip at the door, pondering on when to open. She finally went in and with relief noted the sound of the water running. The relief vanished when the horrible thoughts of finding her father, submerged and wearing cuts on his wrists, invaded her mind. She ran to the bathroom door and quietly opened it a fraction large enough to see into the room. The gasp tore at her throat but she swallowed it down. Her father was standing with his back to her, towel around his waist, and fiddling with the shower knobs. But that wasn't what had caught her attention. No. It was the scars that marred her father's back that made her heart bleed and spirit sink. When she felt she could take no more of the horrible sight, she quietly closed the door and ran out of the house, purse forgotten, into her car where she cried quietly, feeling an overwhelming helplessness.
Kim shook herself out of the painful memory and took a step in the direction of her father's door. Every night she did this. And even before she got out of bed and ended up where she was now, she knew what would happen. She knew that every time she'd just stand there and wait. Wait until her father's thrashing died down and his moans calmed. Wait until the quiet returned to tell herself that he didn't need her. That he would be all right and that everything would be fine. She would do this every night. Shroud herself, take comfort in the lie that his nightmares were lessening and that he was talking more. She wanted so badly to believe that things could get better that she did this every night until it became a routine, a normalcy in her life. Wake up, walk to his door, stand there, and wait until he went back to sleep. So the question of whether she would go into his room and be with him or not was answered even before she threw the covers back and walked out to stand by his door. And they would eat breakfast in silence and go on about their day in forced and awkward responses until night came along. And then she would get up with his occasional scream and stand by his door, as if willing her outside presence to be enough of a comfort. Kim knew she had no courage, no reserve of sacrificial strength like her father. No steadfast resolve, no mighty shield or resistance to pain. So Kim made breakfast every morning with a smile on her face and asked how her dad had slept that night. And when he answered with "I got in a good night's sleep," She would nod and tell him that she too, had slept well.
After all Kim thought that night, when she crawled back into bed helpless defeat and lies weighing on her shoulders, who am I trying to fool? I'm no hero…
So? what do you think? Chloe's POV is coming up next, though I don't know when :D. remember to review!