Nightmares

*Zac*
I awake to a scream, one that damn near shatters my eardrums. I scramble out of bed, pull on my trousers, and rush across the hall, throwing open the door just as another scream sounds.

Callie is thrashing about on the bed. Jeanette is attempting to subdue her, taking a fist to her cheek for her efforts.

Zane is caterwauling,and my first thought is; ‘what a fine set of lungs my son has’. I am surprised my family sleeping in the other wing isn't disturbed by this madness.

Jeanette looks up at me, her voice frantic. “She's locked in a nightmare.”

“See to the boy. I’ll tend to Callie.” I tell her, walking over.

Without objection, Jeanette rushes to the bassinet and lifts Zane into her arms, but the lad is not consoled.by the Gods, he is like his sire. When I want something, I want it at that moment.

“Take him to my bedchamber," I order.

Jeanette rushes across the room.

“Shut the door on your way out,” I shout after her, certain the boy's screeching isn't helping matters.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and lean over her. “Callie.”

“No, no, no. Please, dear Gods, no." She cries out.

“Callie.” I try to gently shake her and receive a fist to the eye. Damn, but she has a powerful punch. “Calliope.”

She cries out, and swings blindly again.

I grab her wrists, secure them in one hand, and stretch her arms over her head. “Callie. Sweetheart, darling. It's all right. You’re safe."

She gasps. Her eyes fly open. The horror and fear I see in the whiskey depths rakes painfully through my heart. She is shivering, her skin clammy and cold. Her gown is damp with sweat. I realize the moment recognition dawns, and the nightmare fades into oblivion.

“Zac?” She mumbles, her voice desperate.

“I’m here.” I tell her softly.

She jerks her gaze to the bassinet. “ Zane?”

“Jeanette took him to my bedchamber. He’s fine.” I can’t hear any crying in the distance and have to assume that Jeanette has managed to calm the boy. I release Callie's wrists. She raises herself to a sitting position, pressing back against the pillows as though she believes she can escape through them.

Tears well in her eyes and roll over onto her cheeks. “So many dead. So many were dying. I could do nothing for them. I was powerless. They just kept dying. Hundreds of them. The massive numbers were frightening. The Vampires weren’t doing
us in, disease was." She swipes angrily at her cheeks. “They lay there on the floor and on stuffed sacks and filthy beds, holding out their hands as we walked by. ‘Sister. Sister. Callie.’ And there is nothing to be given that could help. I knew they weren’t calling for me particularly, but Callie echoed up and down the wards. And there were times when I thought I would go mad with it."

I have no words with which to comfort her. I had been there. I was in that hospital. I should have known what she has suffered through. I should have known what she has given of herself. But the only images I can see are the ones she is painting with her words.

She buries her face in her hands. “I'm sorry. I try not to sleep for long periods. I try not to give myself time to get to the place of nightmares. But I was so tired tonight. And I enjoyed our dinner too much. I drank too much wine. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I disturbed your rest."

“For the Gods’ sake, Callie, do you truly believe that I give a damn about my sleep?” I pull her hands down, gently grabbing her chin with my thumb and forefinger, and holding her in place so I can lock my eyes on to hers. “Tell me what I can do for you.
Tell me what you need."

“I need to forget it all. Ironic, is it not? That you wish desperately to remember what I would give my soul to forget?” She says, the pain evident in her voice.

She makes another rough swipe at her cheeks. I still her actions by slipping my hands beneath hers and gently capturing the droplets that have grown cold. I fight to keep my gaze raised and not lower it to her thin linen nightdress, where her dark nipples press, puckered, against the flimsy sweat-saturated cloth. A shiver courses through her, and I do not fool myself into thinking it is because of my touch.

Although, the Gods help me, I wish for it to be. I want to ease her suffering, bring her solace and comfort, and the only way I know to do that is with my body. But I will not risk subjecting her to further shame. In spite of whatever precautions I might have taken, one night is all she had required to get pregnant with the baby. She deserves more consideration from me. Until I know if I am going to offer marriage, I have to keep my damned hands to myself.

“I wish I still had the memories from those two years, so I would know better what to do for you.” I say softly.

She gives me a heartrending smile. “I have enough memories for us both."