Stories from Naoh’ra Rabntah

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Ben Solutions for Nightmares

“You’ve been sitting there with that look on your face since I realigned the fridge door with a crowbar and a 5 mm shim.”

He sat down, resting his forearms on the table.

“Something happen with Matt?”

“He’s not sleeping. Not really.” Lucy sighed. “The nightmares haven’t let up.”

“Nightmares? I knew he was having trouble, but I didn’t realize—”

“They started in the ICU, but they got worse after his surgery got pushed back. That was almost two months ago. And since then… they’ve just kept coming.”

“Has he told you anything about them? Even once?”

“Never. He won’t talk about them. The night nurses tell me when it happens. Sometimes he shouts, sometimes they say he can’t get his breath. By morning he’s been up for hours, just… gone. It’s every night, Ben.”

“Shit.”

“After a while, I don’t know how much of me is even reaching him anymore.”

“He can’t keep going like this, Lucy.”

“I know. But what am I supposed to do? He won’t open up. The therapist isn’t getting anywhere with him. I’ve tried.”

He leaned in a little. “Anything that makes them worse? After PT, harder days, stuff like that?”

“No. They’re just constant. Like his brain doesn’t have an off switch.”

“What about distractions? Has he tried watching something before bed, or listening to something?”

“Not that I know of. They say he just lies there and doesn’t ask for anything.”

Ben was halfway to his duffle bag before he stopped.

“I’ve got an idea. It’s not a fix, but it might help. At least for now.”

“What kind of—” She cut herself off with a laugh. “Ben, I don’t know if anything’s going to help right now. This isn’t something you can just patch up with duct tape.”

Not with that attitude. Ben grinned faintly as he grabbed his jacket.

“Hey, duct tape’s gotten us through worse. Besides, I’m not trying to fix him. I just want to make things a little easier for him. And for you.”

“Just don’t push him too hard, okay? He’s barely holding it together as it is.”

“You know me.”

“Exactly.”

He was already out the door, plan forming before his boots hit the steps.