[cw - graphic]

She was running, lungs burning from the fear-induced panic. The sound of his screams grated on her. She couldn't reach him, couldn't make it to his side but was forced to watch as his body twisted in agony while he spewed profanities in a voice that was not his own. She gave a loud cry as she heard bones crunching, his form curling into itself. "Harold! No! Noooooo!" she sobbed as she watched her possessed husband die a slow and agonizing death at the invisible hands of some demon, all because he had wanted to help her friend...

She awoke with a scream, sitting up as the twins began to cry from being startled by their mother. Karen put her hands over her ears and sobbed, not able to function enough to tend to the children. She soon curled up in a ball and was in a state over the dream, having relived one of the most horrible nights of her life.

The neighbor rushed over after hearing her scream, could not calm the children, and remembered seeing Frederic with Karen only a few days prior. It was the middle of the day and it was uncharacteristic of Karen to scream and be in such a way that she wouldn't respond. The woman rushed to fetch Frederic at his shop. "Mrs. Calloway," she panted, "Something's wrong with her."

Frederic heard harried footsteps just outside his window as he was bidding a customer goodbye and he frowned as a woman- one he faintly recognized, but how? -burst into his shop with a worried expression.

"Miss Calloway," she panted. "Something's wrong with her."

At once, Frederic was up from his chair and half-out the door when he remembered his coat. He doubled back, snatched it from its hook, and took off, handing the woman (who he know remembered as Karen's neighbor, the one who often looked after her kids) the keys to his shop with a quick plea for her to lock up and drop the key off at Karen's when she could. Knowing she probably needed a rest after hurrying here, Frederic left with a hurried thank you for getting him and took off down the street. He didn't much care for the stares passerby gave him, his only priority right now was getting to Karen. His lungs started to burn, but he ignored the ache and sprinted on, coming to the yellow house in a matter of seven minutes (he knew because he'd been glancing at his watch every few seconds on the way). The door was half-open and he hurried inside, not even bothering to take off his coat.

He could hear the babies crying and his worry grew. What was so wrong with Karen that she wasn't tending to the children she adored so much? He searched around and found the bedroom in a few seconds' time- and when he saw Karen, holding herself and trembling on the bed, he rushed to her side, reaching out to gently touch her hand and shoulder, careful not to spook her. "Karen? Karen, can you hear me? What happened? I'm here, darling, I'm here."

The voice that cut through the fog was Fred's. She burst into tears and only curled up tighter, gasping out, "Harold, I couldn't get to ye! God forgive me! I couldn't save ye!" Karen started to rock back and forth, caught somewhere between reality and memory. For a moment, it looked as if she would stay trapped there, but his touch caused her to look up at him. With tears streaming down her face, she gasped out and moved to press herself against him, shaking heavily as she replayed the dream in her mind. "I couldn't save him. Couldn't..."

Frederic kicked off his boots quickly and sat on the bed beside Karen, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "It's alright," he said softly, his heart pained at seeing her like this. He wished, more than anything else in that moment, that he could take away whatever memories or nightmares were haunting her now, but as he had no control over her mind, all he could do was hold and reassure her. "I'm here, Karen. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. It was just a dream-" This was a guess, but from situational evidence, he was pretty sure this was it. "-and it was not Harold. You did nothing wrong, Karen. It was just a dream and I am here. I am here, for you."

"Ye don't understand, it wasn't just a dream," she said. "It was like seein' it happen all over again." She nuzzled her face against his neck. She was warm, too warm. One could tell she had a fever. It happened quite often since Harold had been killed. Every now and again, she would take ill and have nightmares. She wasn't deathly ill, just sickly at the moment, but it was clear that it wasn't the catching kind, but rather the kind borne of grief. The babies seemed to both calm down eventually, going back to sleep because they were tired out from all the crying. She felt horrible that she had not checked on them and went to pull away, "I have to check the children."

Frederic let her go, then stood as she did and kept close at hand as she checked her babies. He didn't know how Karen's late husband had died, but considering the dream-conjured memory she was so shaken up over, it must have been terrible. When she was done taking care of her children, he wrapped his arms around her again and frowned. Her skin was warm, feverish, and he worried she was falling ill. He debated sending for a doctor, but then he realized it was likely the sort of sickness brought about by grief and so put aside the notion. He wasn't exactly sure what to say- Patsy's death had been a peaceful one, and although the memory of her silence in that room, her eyes still open but unseeing for so long until he accepted she was gone, he never thought of it as a terrifying moment, just a painful one. He didn't share Karen's sort of grief and he was frightened by his uncertainty. "I'm here," he said eventually, his head bowed into her hair. "I'm here."

When she returned to his arms, she tiredly lay her head on his shoulder and curled up. At first, she was quiet, almost like she fell back asleep. But then she pulled away and looked at him with such tortured eyes. Then she said, "Ye'll likely think I am daft if I tell ye what happened... But I must... me heart hurts." And so the story she had only told few, came spilling out. She talked about her friend, Adelade, who had been able to see and speak to the dead, and had been killed by an entity who had possessed her. She spoke about how Harold, who had treated Addie, had become obsessed with helping to rid the world of the evil that had haunted the town where she and Harold had settled. She went on to talk about how Harold began to change and even gotten angrier and angrier, and how his behavior went from bad to worse over time until the evil took completely over and killed him in a gruesome manner. "He was in the cemetery at her grave when he died, and I couldn't get to him in time."

Frederic felt his blood run cold as Karen spoke of her past and her husband's death. He hadn't even considered the notion of supernatural entities in a long time, but of course, he believed Karen completely. What horrors she must have witnessed, and he drew her closer as she spoke. His heart pained for her and his wishes to erase those terrible things from her mind increased tenfold, but alas, it was still something he could not do. "I would never think you 'daft', or anything else like that for the matter," he said softly once she'd finished. "I only wish I could save you from these memories." He paused, then amended his statement, "Not all the memories of your husband, of course- only those that cause you this pain." Frederic felt tears pricking at his eyes and didn't bother to blink them away. "God, I wish I had that power."

His words comforted her enough that she stopped crying. She curled up against him and whispered, "I will never be able to forget what happened." It would haunt her for the rest of her days no matter what she did to try and dispel it. Watching her husband die such a horrible death had definitely left its mark upon her. She'd told the priest, Gabriel, about it. She pulled her head back to look up at him, the circles under her eyes telling the story of her fitful rest. "I hardly get to sleep between the babes and the dreams," she confessed.

Frederic's brow furrowed. An idea crossed his mind, but he brushed it away as much too forward. Then again... He knew how to take care of babies, as he'd raised one of his own. He wanted to help Karen however possible- but was this idea too much? It showed clear on his face that he was caught between a decision, even though he said nothing. He held her silently as he debated with himself and a long silence fell. He knew she was expecting him to say something, but he just wasn't sure. He tilted his head to look into her captivating eyes, his heart giving a twinge when he saw the bags under them, and he tried to discern if she was thinking the same thing as he.