West in her mind. West, she thinks. He kept her from being scared that night. She recalls how the moment he left her house Saturday, she felt fear rising up in her again. She thinks back to those few stolen moments at the memorial Sunday night when he told her he would be her strength. She's slept a lot over the past few days, and her head still causes her issues, but every time she wakes up, West is the first thing she sees in her mind. His presence in all of her dreams and nightmares since Friday night probably isn’t helping things much.
"I held someone's hand," she whispers, and allows herself to admit out loud for the first time how much that single act meant to her.
The room is silent for a moment, their breathing the only thing she can hear before he asks, "And that kept you from being scared?"
"No buddy, I was always scared. We both were. But holding his hand let me know someone was with me, we were in there together, and I knew he would try his best to protect me, and he did. He gave me his strength."
"Who will protect me?"
Jules lets out a half-cry/half-laugh at his innocent question. "I will, bud," she promises; hugging him tightly and finding his hand. "And mom and dad will. We love you Jase, and we’ll protect you with all our might. Try to get some sleep now, okay?"
"Okay."
The conversation pulls a memory from her mind, and suddenly, she’s transported back to the small space she shared with West for a few hours Friday night.
"I'm scared," she admits to him at some point. She has been going in and out of consciousness, and is doing all she can to keep from puking all over their small space.
"Why?"
"Why?" she asks incredulously. "Well, hmm…we’re stuck under the rubble of a house, a tornado has hit our town, and we have no idea what's going on out there. Listen to all of those sirens! It sounds like a war zone."
"O, ye of little faith. This is nothing. I've got you."
" You've got me?" Her head swims in confusion and she wonders if he is confused too.
"Yeah, Buff. I've got you. I'm here and I’ll keep you safe. No worries, okay?"
She wants to freak out. Her arms are pressed tightly between their chests, and his hand holding hers. She feels claustrophobic as she tries to wiggle her legs around. Something on the ground cuts her thigh and she winces.
"Hey," he warns mildly. "Calm down. Breathe."
"I want out of here! I can't breathe, my head hurts and I want my mom and dad. What if they're hurt?" Her shoulders begin to shake. "What's taking them so long to get help?"
"Jules! Baby, you can't freak out on me now, please. I need you to stay calm." His free hand runs up to sightlessly locate her face and he cups her cheek. "Look at me."
"I can't…I can't see anything." She gasps and forcibly tries to control her breathing.
"Pretend, then. Listen to my voice and picture my face in your head. Picture the Ice Shack from before all of this happened."
Taking another deep breath, she visualizes him sitting on that bench outside the Shack; his silver flask lifting to his mouth and the sly grin on his lips as he looks at her.
"That's good; I can feel you calming down already. I told you we’re not gonna die tonight. Trust me. Will you do that?"
"How do you know? What if..." His finger — thumb, maybe — presses over her lips and quiets her protest.
"Because I've got stuff I want to do in this life, and I'll be damned if this is the end."
She grins at the bitterness in his voice; her teeth grazing the finger that lingers over her lips, and he rubs her lips softly as he speaks again.
"Plus, while I've always dreamed of dying in a beautiful woman's arms, this wasn't exactly the way I planned it."
"Oh wow, was that a pick up line?"
"No, gorgeous, that was the truth. I'd show you what I envisioned, but I don't think we have enough room in this little cave of ours," he teases, and Jules feels her face burn at the innuendo.
Her fears slowly retreat to the back of her thoughts as this playful
"I held someone's hand," she whispers, and allows herself to admit out loud for the first time how much that single act meant to her.
The room is silent for a moment, their breathing the only thing she can hear before he asks, "And that kept you from being scared?"
"No buddy, I was always scared. We both were. But holding his hand let me know someone was with me, we were in there together, and I knew he would try his best to protect me, and he did. He gave me his strength."
"Who will protect me?"
Jules lets out a half-cry/half-laugh at his innocent question. "I will, bud," she promises; hugging him tightly and finding his hand. "And mom and dad will. We love you Jase, and we’ll protect you with all our might. Try to get some sleep now, okay?"
"Okay."
The conversation pulls a memory from her mind, and suddenly, she’s transported back to the small space she shared with West for a few hours Friday night.
"I'm scared," she admits to him at some point. She has been going in and out of consciousness, and is doing all she can to keep from puking all over their small space.
"Why?"
"Why?" she asks incredulously. "Well, hmm…we’re stuck under the rubble of a house, a tornado has hit our town, and we have no idea what's going on out there. Listen to all of those sirens! It sounds like a war zone."
"O, ye of little faith. This is nothing. I've got you."
" You've got me?" Her head swims in confusion and she wonders if he is confused too.
"Yeah, Buff. I've got you. I'm here and I’ll keep you safe. No worries, okay?"
She wants to freak out. Her arms are pressed tightly between their chests, and his hand holding hers. She feels claustrophobic as she tries to wiggle her legs around. Something on the ground cuts her thigh and she winces.
"Hey," he warns mildly. "Calm down. Breathe."
"I want out of here! I can't breathe, my head hurts and I want my mom and dad. What if they're hurt?" Her shoulders begin to shake. "What's taking them so long to get help?"
"Jules! Baby, you can't freak out on me now, please. I need you to stay calm." His free hand runs up to sightlessly locate her face and he cups her cheek. "Look at me."
"I can't…I can't see anything." She gasps and forcibly tries to control her breathing.
"Pretend, then. Listen to my voice and picture my face in your head. Picture the Ice Shack from before all of this happened."
Taking another deep breath, she visualizes him sitting on that bench outside the Shack; his silver flask lifting to his mouth and the sly grin on his lips as he looks at her.
"That's good; I can feel you calming down already. I told you we’re not gonna die tonight. Trust me. Will you do that?"
"How do you know? What if..." His finger — thumb, maybe — presses over her lips and quiets her protest.
"Because I've got stuff I want to do in this life, and I'll be damned if this is the end."
She grins at the bitterness in his voice; her teeth grazing the finger that lingers over her lips, and he rubs her lips softly as he speaks again.
"Plus, while I've always dreamed of dying in a beautiful woman's arms, this wasn't exactly the way I planned it."
"Oh wow, was that a pick up line?"
"No, gorgeous, that was the truth. I'd show you what I envisioned, but I don't think we have enough room in this little cave of ours," he teases, and Jules feels her face burn at the innuendo.
Her fears slowly retreat to the back of her thoughts as this playful
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