Chapter 9. Dreamcatcher

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It was close to ten by the time we arrived at the hotel.
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“There’s a pool.  I didn’t bring a suit.” I joked.  I knew we wouldn’t have any time for swimming, given how hectic our schedules would be since we were conducting two investigations over the weekend.
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“I tried to get us into a bed and breakfast nearby that is nicer, but there are a several events in town this weekend–most places were already full.” Sean said as he moved toward the back of his SUV to get our luggage.
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“Hey, as long as it’s clean, I really don’t care.” I said, moving to get my bag.
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We walked up to the registration desk in the small lobby, and I lost a battle.  I was trying not to stare at the desk clerk, but it was impossible.  He made me think of Iris, and I wondered if they would have gotten along.
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“Welcome to the Chestnut Park Inn.  My name is Quentin.  How may I help you?” he asked in a bored monotone.
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“Um…we have a reservation.” Sean said, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh.
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“Name?” he asked.
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Sean provided the information, and I could tell that Quentin was growing impatient with my staring.  I was particularly engrossed with the tattoos that covered his arms.
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“I can make her dance for you.” Quentin said, tapping on a naked lady on his bicep.
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“Do it!” I said.  I was delighted and a little bit horrified all at the same time.  But it’s never a good idea to piss off the hotel staff.
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Quentin laughed and flexed to make the lady move.  It was apparent that he hadn’t expected me to accept his offer of a demonstration.  Sean grinned at me, and we listened to the clicking of the keyboard as Quentin searched for our reservation information.
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“Uh…bad news guys.” Quentin said.  “And just so you know, I don’t take the reservations, so I swear it’s not my fault–but somehow we booked the two rooms you reserved.”
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“Do you have anything else?.” Sean asked.  He started patting his pocket for his cell phone and I wondered if we’d end up staying at his mother’s house after all.
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“Well…the only thing we have left is the two-bedroom suite.  If you don’t mind a connecting door between the bedrooms, I can give it to you.  And since lil’ miss here is such a cool chick, I’ll even give it to you for your original price.” Quentin said.
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“Thanks!” I said, and Quentin and I bumped fists.  Sean shook his head in amazement as we collected our key cards and made our way to our room.
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I let myself into my room and looked around.  There were two other doors, and I knew the one near the foot of the bed went to Sean’s room.  We each had our own entry from the hall.  I opened the other door, and found myself in the bathroom.
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Sean knocked on the door between our rooms and I opened it.
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“My other door goes straight into the sitting room.  If you want to trade, we can.” Sean said.
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“Nah, this one is fine.” I said.
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“Good.  You want to have the bathroom first?” he asked.
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“No, you can have it.  I need to call my mom.” I said.  I made my call, then changed into pajamas and opened up a file folder containing information on some of the people we’d be interviewing this weekend.
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“Ed?  Eddie, baby?”
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I blinked and took in a shuddering breath.  My heart was racing and I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering.
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“Eddie, baby, talk to me.” Sean said softly, his hand moving in my hair.
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“I….I’m awake.” I stammered.  I tried to get up because my face was wet.  I’d been crying in my sleep.
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“Honey, you’re shaking–just wait a minute before you get up.” he said, continuing to stroke my hair.  “I came in because you were screaming.”
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I wiped at my face and pushed my way up.  Sean stood up and moved to the end of the bed.  I rose quickly on my shaky legs and hurried into the bathroom.  I shut the door firmly and locked it so Sean wouldn’t try to follow me inside.  I hated for him to see me like this.  I hated for anyone to see me cry.
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I approached the sink and stifled a sob.  I struggled to focus on what I was doing.
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Turn the knob.  Just cold water.  Cold water is good.
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I’d fallen asleep while reading the file.  Then Sean had roused me from a nightmare.
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It was too much to hope that Sean would just go back to bed.  I knew he’d be waiting for me.  He’d want an explanation.
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Are you going to tell him?

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I patted at my puffy red eyes and sighed.
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Sure enough, there he was.
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“Huh.  Boxers.  I would have pegged you as a jockey shorts kinda man.” I said breezily.
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“Nah…my uh, stuff is close enough.  No need to scrunch it all up.  Now, why don’t you tell me what your nightmare was about.” Sean said.
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“It was just a nightmare.  Nothing major.  Hey, you’re shirtless.  Score for me.” I said.
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“Come here.” Sean said, holding out his hand.
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I stood in front of him and he took my hand.  His thumb rubbed circles over my palm as he looked at me.
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“Why won’t you talk to me about it?” he asked.
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“It’s just no big deal.” I said.
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“If it’s no big deal, then it shouldn’t be difficult to talk about.” Sean reasoned.
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“Sean….” I said, shaking my head.  “Oh, hey, look.  You have a shamrock on your shoulder.  That’s…adorable.”
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“I have another tattoo somewhere else.  And if you promise to tell me what your nightmare was about, I’ll show it to you.  Because I want you to know personal things about me.  I want to share things with you.” Sean said.
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I regarded him silently for a few moments.
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“It’s not on your ass, is it?” I asked.
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He laughed and turned around.  I half expected him to pull his boxers down, but then I saw it.
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I reached out to touch his back before I thought better of it, and he tilted his head to glance back at me over his shoulder.
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“Any other males in your family have big tattoos on their back?” I asked sarcastically.
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Sean laughed.  “I don’t know.  Liam might, for all I know.”
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“It’s beautiful.” I said.  And it was.  The wings of the dragon were intricately patterned. “Well at least there isn’t some cryptic ancient proverb to go along with it–unless you’re hiding something beneath your boxers.” I said, running my index finger just under the waistband of said boxers near the base of his spine.
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Sean spun around and grabbed my hand. “Please stop trying to distract me–especially that way.  If you’re that desperate to keep your secret, then I’ll stop asking.”
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“I’m sorry.” I said.  I went back to the bed and motioned for him to join me.
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After taking a few breaths, I began.
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“It’s Scott.  In my nightmares, he’s either already dead or….or he’s in the process of being killed.  Murdered.  This time, he was being held captive in some basement or something, and it was really dark, and there was a man with a knife….it’s always something painful and brutal.” I said.  I hated the way my voice shook.
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“Nightmares….plural?  So you’ve had these before?” Sean asked.
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“Ever since he disappeared.” I said.
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“Every night?” Sean asked.
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“At first.  But after a few months, it dropped to a few times a month.  And there was a period when I thought they were gone for good, but…they started up again just before the whole thing with Iris.  Now it’s maybe once every other week or so.  My parents don’t know they’ve started again.  Besides my therapist…you’re the only person I’ve told.” I explained.  He needed to know how important this was–how unprecedented.  Kendra knew I was seeing a therapist, but she thought it was due to the stabbing incident.  I’d never even told my parents the exact contents of the nightmares.
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He was quiet for a few beats.
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“I had nightmares after my father died.  They lasted for a few months.” he said.
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“How did he die?” I asked.
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“Car crash.  On the way to work.  He was an architect.  I was fourteen.” Sean said.  His voice was strong, but I could still hear grief in it.
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“Your mother said that Nick’s father helped you.” I said.
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“He did.  I’d spent summers with Nick’s family before…everything.  My mother was overwhelmed with so many kids, and after my arrest, Uncle Tony came to talk to me.  He and Aunt Mona convinced Mama to let me live with them for a little while.  He treated me like his own son.  Helped set me straight.  Mostly.” Sean said.
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I’d known Sean and Nick were close, but I’d had no idea that they shared such a bond.  They were like brothers.
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“Eddie….does it help if you have someone sleeping with you?  Does it keep away the nightmares?” Sean asked.
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“It…seems to help.” I admitted reluctantly.  My relationship with Jonah had heralded the first major lull in my nightmares, but inexplicably, they’d come back nearly four years after our relationship had ended.
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“Well, if you don’t mind…I’d like to stay here, with you, tonight.  Just sleep.” he added, smiling gently.
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I eyed his boxers, then looked at him skeptically.
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“Nothing between us but some very thin fabric? I don’t know.” I said.
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“Hey–these are for your benefit, I’ll have you know.  Normally I sleep in the buff.” Sean grinned.
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“Oh, well then, I feel all reassured now.” I said.
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“I’ll admit it’s been a while for me, but I’m an adult, in control of my urges.  Just like you.” Sean said.
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That’s what I’m afraid of, I thought.  It was harder for me to maintain control with him, and since the dregs of my nightmare had faded, I was all too aware that he was almost naked, warm, and in my bed.
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But I trusted him.  Even if I didn’t quite trust myself, I realized that I trusted him.
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“Okay.  If I snore, just…punch me in the shoulder or something.” I said.
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“Deal.” Sean said.
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We settled in and I thought it would be difficult to fall asleep, but I was really tired, and the nightmare had drained me.  I drifted off almost immediately.
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The next morning, I was startled out of sleep.  I’d heard something strange, and I looked over to see that Sean was gone.
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Then I realized that I could hear the shower running, and….
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Singing.  Sean was singing in the shower, again.  This time it was Metallica’s “Enter Sandman”.  I snickered at his attempts at the growling vocalizations–it was just so funny to hear a man trying to sound like an evil demon first thing in the morning.
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It was a surprisingly lovely way to wake up.
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• October 1, 2010
• An Edith Prescott Mystery: Story 3
• 41 Comments