all his bad dreams, the jungle dream, the bar dream, the body bag one, each in detail from when he had told her about them years ago. She was the only one he'd ever told them to, because she had been the only one who had ever cared to listen.
Miguel nodded his head in her arms. "I should have done something," he said hoarsely. "I should have saved Billy."
"You did the best you could," Dani said softly. "No one could control who lived and who died. You have nothing to blame yourself for."
Dani sat quietly for a while longer, still holding Miguel close. She thought of his pain, of her pain and of the pain they had caused each other. "We make a great pair, you and I," she whispered, shaking her head. And then, slowly, she lay down under the covers beside him, all the time holding him close, both finally falling asleep from exhaustion. And for the first time in years, Michael slept soundly and dreamlessly, feeling safe in Dani's arms.
Sunlight streamed through the patio doors across the sleeping bodies of Michael and Dani. He stirred slowly and carefully sat up, not wanting to disturb her sleep, and was surprised to see the clock on the opposite wall read 11:00 A.M. He hadn't slept this late on a Saturday morning in a very long time, and a smile played across his lips when he remembered the last time he had slept this late. And he had woken up with the same sweet woman beside him then, only a younger version. It was like they'd never parted.
As Michael studied Dani's sleeping face, he liked what he saw. In sleep she had the softness he remembered, not the look of bitterness she had shown him last night. He thought of last night and how she'd stroked his hair and soothed away his nightmare so tenderly. She was still the same sweet person he had known so many years ago, no matter how hard she'd tried to convince him otherwise. And she must still have some feelings for him other than hatred.
"Good morning," Dani interrupted his thoughts and looked up at him through sleepy eyes. "What are you staring at?"
"The past, the present, all rolled into one," he told her, smiling.
Dani gave him a confused look.
"I'm sorry about last night," Michael told her. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You can't control your nightmares," she said softly, reaching up to touch the side of his face. The gesture was so innocent, yet sent shivers of remembrance inside him. "Just as I can't change the past," Dani sighed. "Do they still come often?"
Michael looked down at the woman who just last night had said she hated him, now she sounded concerned, like she had long ago. "Sometimes they come often, other times I can go for weeks without one."
Dani raised herself onto one elbow and looked him squarely in the eyes. "You never went for help, did you?"
"No," he answered honestly.
She shook her head and began turning to get out of bed, but Michael caught her arm and rolled her back.
"I've missed you," he said. "I really have. You were the only one who I could really talk to, let myself go with." Gently he placed his hand in her hair and slowly drew her lips to his. Barely had they touched when Dani pulled away.
"No, Miguel. Not like this. I need to sort things out first."
Michael let her go, nodding his understanding. "Do you still hate me?" he wanted to know.
Dani got out of bed and walked the short distance to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room before turning around. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I've hated you for so long that I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore." Pain reflected in her eyes. A part of her felt the same warmth for him she had felt nineteen years before. She knew it was the closeness of the nightmare that had brought that back. Seeing his vulnerable side again, the side of him that was real, not contrived. But she had distanced herself from him for so many years that she just couldn't come up with an answer yet.
Seeing her standing there,
Miguel nodded his head in her arms. "I should have done something," he said hoarsely. "I should have saved Billy."
"You did the best you could," Dani said softly. "No one could control who lived and who died. You have nothing to blame yourself for."
Dani sat quietly for a while longer, still holding Miguel close. She thought of his pain, of her pain and of the pain they had caused each other. "We make a great pair, you and I," she whispered, shaking her head. And then, slowly, she lay down under the covers beside him, all the time holding him close, both finally falling asleep from exhaustion. And for the first time in years, Michael slept soundly and dreamlessly, feeling safe in Dani's arms.
Sunlight streamed through the patio doors across the sleeping bodies of Michael and Dani. He stirred slowly and carefully sat up, not wanting to disturb her sleep, and was surprised to see the clock on the opposite wall read 11:00 A.M. He hadn't slept this late on a Saturday morning in a very long time, and a smile played across his lips when he remembered the last time he had slept this late. And he had woken up with the same sweet woman beside him then, only a younger version. It was like they'd never parted.
As Michael studied Dani's sleeping face, he liked what he saw. In sleep she had the softness he remembered, not the look of bitterness she had shown him last night. He thought of last night and how she'd stroked his hair and soothed away his nightmare so tenderly. She was still the same sweet person he had known so many years ago, no matter how hard she'd tried to convince him otherwise. And she must still have some feelings for him other than hatred.
"Good morning," Dani interrupted his thoughts and looked up at him through sleepy eyes. "What are you staring at?"
"The past, the present, all rolled into one," he told her, smiling.
Dani gave him a confused look.
"I'm sorry about last night," Michael told her. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"You can't control your nightmares," she said softly, reaching up to touch the side of his face. The gesture was so innocent, yet sent shivers of remembrance inside him. "Just as I can't change the past," Dani sighed. "Do they still come often?"
Michael looked down at the woman who just last night had said she hated him, now she sounded concerned, like she had long ago. "Sometimes they come often, other times I can go for weeks without one."
Dani raised herself onto one elbow and looked him squarely in the eyes. "You never went for help, did you?"
"No," he answered honestly.
She shook her head and began turning to get out of bed, but Michael caught her arm and rolled her back.
"I've missed you," he said. "I really have. You were the only one who I could really talk to, let myself go with." Gently he placed his hand in her hair and slowly drew her lips to his. Barely had they touched when Dani pulled away.
"No, Miguel. Not like this. I need to sort things out first."
Michael let her go, nodding his understanding. "Do you still hate me?" he wanted to know.
Dani got out of bed and walked the short distance to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room before turning around. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I've hated you for so long that I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore." Pain reflected in her eyes. A part of her felt the same warmth for him she had felt nineteen years before. She knew it was the closeness of the nightmare that had brought that back. Seeing his vulnerable side again, the side of him that was real, not contrived. But she had distanced herself from him for so many years that she just couldn't come up with an answer yet.
Seeing her standing there,
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