Asami’s Nightmare

Asami looked down at the book she held in her hands, and wondered if journaling at all lately was helpful, or just confused her more. She wasn’t really sure…it had helped her in the past, mostly to get through those times when she was alone and she felt scared. She was looking it over, and wondering if it was worth having a physical book she had to hide from others, or if she should just do a private blog, something she could conceivably do anywhere. In the end, she decided to just make the blog she’d kept while she lived in Japan private, and type in the entries she’d made in the book she held. There were less than ten entries, and she didn’t figure it would take overly long.

As she began typing, the events she had written about replayed in her head, and in some cases, she shuddered a little. She was aware that the tone wasn’t altogether pleasant at points, but she couldn’t help who she was in the moment, especially as she typically tried to write as the events were still relatively fresh in her memory. When she’d finished typing everything, she ripped the pages from the book and tore them into as many small pieces as she could, before she buried them in the trash. 

Returning to her laptop, she stared at the dashboard, and clicked the new post button. The cursor blinked at her, waiting for input as she sat and thought over what to input. With a sigh, she started, labeling and tagging as appropriate before starting the main body of the post. She wasn’t worried about anyone looking over, as all they’d really see was kanji. As for the reason why she was writing in Japanese instead of English, well…that was a simple explanation, really, and one that wasn’t even a lie. It was just easier for her.

Quickly, she typed out what was on her mind, not overly interested in being detailed just then, but wanting to be dutiful.

It was suggested that I keep some notes about the dreams I’ve been having, as they could help me work through some of the issues I have – even things I may not realize are necessarily a problem. Even though the sleep aid Dr. Gerald prescribed for me does help me sleep, I try not to take it too often since I can still feel sluggish the next day.

I’ve already documented about some of the nightmares I’ve had where I relive being shot. I haven’t talked to anyone other than the therapist about these dreams because I’m not sure I want to bother anyone with them right now. As for others? Well….the dreams Danny-puppet gave me don’t really count – it wasn’t my subconscious creating those, after all.

I have had others, though. There’s the ones with Dad…the ones where he always dies. In some, he’s hunted down by the yakuza, either due to his past undercover work or as Machiko’s punishment for not getting that info she was originally using him for. In others, he’s tortured by allies of Blackthorne or Penhallow, who tracked us down and are trying to torment us by slowly killing off our loved ones for what we did. One time, he died by my hand.

Those are just the violent ones. The ones that leave me awake for hours, with my heart racing and needing to catch my breath. There have been some others – not as frightening, not as adrenaline inducing. The others leave me waking up with tears that don’t want to stop.

She paused, not really sure what to input next. Ultimately, she decided on exiting the blog site entirely, and switching over to watch some anime. She was behind on a recent favorite (Shokugeki no Souma) and wanted to catch up. A small handful of episodes later, she stretched and decided to call it a night. She closed her laptop and said goodnight to the others in the living room, and headed upstairs to sleep.

She sat at the edge of her bed for a few moments, debating on the sleep aid, and decided to take it. There was a lot on her mind right now, and she didn’t want to lie awake and re-hash it, over and over. Secondary to this, was the thought that if she were asleep, she wouldn’t have to deal with Dave just yet.

She changed into pajamas and crawled under the covers, taking a minute or three to get comfortable before closing her eyes and waiting to drift off. The night was simple, quiet…until she hit that deep, fifth stage of sleep where dreams happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dave, can we talk?” she asked, a little timidly as she stood in the bright, open kitchen, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans up to the second knuckle.

Dave had just come from work, where he’d been checked over by company doctors to make sure his recently acquired enhancements were taking to him properly, and not being rejected.

“Of course.” he said, smiling at her. He still couldn’t believe she was his. It felt like he had waited forever for her. “What did you want to talk about?”

She shook her head. “Not here. In private, please.”

“Everything okay?”

She hesitated, finally shaking her head.

“Oh. Well…uhh…” he looked around, trying to gauge where everyone was or was likely to be. “Upstairs or down?”

“Downstairs is public space.” she said quietly. “So maybe just our room?”

“Whatever you think is best.” he said, putting an arm around her for a hug. She smiled, but it was flat and seemed hollow. With concern, he followed her up to the room they shared, closing the door behind him as she packed back and forth a little bit, fidgeting with her fingers a little as she did so.

“Asami, what’s wrong?” She stopped and looked at him. There was a mixture of hurt and fear on her face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a reassuring smile. She shrugged him off after a moment, in order to brush some tears from her face that had started to fall.

“There isn’t an easy way to say this.” she began.

“Then just say it.” he watched as she took a couple of deliberate deep breaths before speaking.

“This isn’t working, Dave.”

“What isn’t?”

“Us.”

“What do you mean we aren’t working?” he said. He felt a slight twitch in his eye, but he watched and waited for her to continue.

“I don’t think we’re working out. I want…no, I need space.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” he asked, his mind still whirling. Surely, this was a bad dream…right? Or he’d misheard? She nodded, however.

“I’m sorry.” was all she said at the moment, pausing to take a swig from a bottle of water she’d brought up with her.

“Why?” he asked as he folded his arms across his chest. An eye twitched again as his brain put a label on that mixed look of fear and guilt. “Who’d you sleep with this time without asking first?”

She opened her mouth slightly in shock at the statement. “I didn’t sleep with anyone!” she snapped. “I haven’t done anything with anyone since the day after we came back from the hotel!”

“What then? Things were fine.” he said, raising his voice slightly.

“Fine? They weren’t fine!” she said. “And before you even start, the blame isn’t all on my end, you know.”

“What the hell did I do?”

“Not counting the time you ran off to become a vampire?”

“How can you even count something I never technically did because you used magic to fix it?” She huffed for a minute and folded her arms across her chest. “Why don’t we start with the obvious mistakes? Which, by the way, are on you.” he held up a finger, and ticked off items one by one.

“First, you make me feel second rate by lamenting  how you’ll never know what it would have been like to date my best friend. Then, you won’t drop the subject of Lisa. Next, you go fuck a guy you barely know behind my back, supposedly because it’s to help you with your magic. Then, you go ‘talk’ with Billy, and end up fucking him too. Then, you have the gall to ask for an open relationship.”

He lowered the now fully ticked off hand, and started with the other. “Then, you get Billy to basically tell me how I’m being unfair to you and discounting your feelings and I should let you have the open or poly relationship that you want. Guess what? Some of those are pretty epic fuck ups, and I forgave you for all of them.” he folded his arms across his chest again, and stared down at her. “So go on, tell me how I’m the bigger problem.”

She brushed aside some tears before addressing him, hurt and anger in her voice. “I’m sorry you felt like you were inferior because I thought I could address one of my best friends with my feelings, something I’d been doing for more than a year at that point. I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me that Lisa was a sore subject and you didn’t want to bring up bad memories.”

She balled her hands into fists for a moment before unclenching them and continuing. “I’m sorry I didn’t seek your permission to do what I wanted with my body. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you that one thing was leading to another with Billy. I’m sorry you were so fucking insecure that you went all irrational and got yourself turned into a fucking vampire because you didn’t think you were good enough. I’m sorry you scared the ever loving fuck out of me to the point I felt I had to reverse what you’d done and got a goddamn angel killed in the process.”

She used the palm of her hands to wipe away tears as she worked on taking breaths to try and center herself. “I’m sorry you’re not secure in knowing that I care about you, and trusting that I can’t care for you as well as others and having to give me ultimatums or conditions to be able to do what I wanted. I’m not sorry for not wanting to be monogamous, because I never planned that, but I have nothing against it, either.” she narrowed her eyes slightly before continuing.

“You want to know why I’m breaking up with you? It’s because I’m afraid, Dave! I’m afraid of hurting or offending you, to the point my thinking is starting to revolve around trying to figure out what won’t hurt you! I can’t walk on eggshells anymore! I can’t stop being me! Not for you, not for anyone!”

He stared at her like he’d been slapped. His eye was still twitching, and he could feel anger bubbling beneath the surface. He didn’t get loud – he kept his voice calm and level when he spoke, though he couldn’t hide the hurt quite enough.

“You said you loved me…”

“I do, Dave. But …not like you love me. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She nodded, and he felt his biceps tighten as his quiet rage began to fuel them, ready them. “Sorry isn’t good enough.” he said, slowly walking toward her.

“What do you mean?” she said, eyeing him.

He couldn’t help it. He was consumed by anger, and continued to approach her. It took her a minute to read the look on his face, and in his posture before she began to move away and try to head for the door. He reached out and threw something at her, and she stopped before trying to circumvent him again. He pressed on, and she started to back away. He kept advancing, as a dark aura emanated from him, making him seem all the more intimidating.

Whenever he’d reach for her, she’d scramble away. He could see the abject fear on her face, and found that he liked having this effect on her. He kept his slow advancements, until she backed herself into a corner. Now she couldn’t get away. Now?

“Now I’m going to teach you a lesson.” he said, punching an open hand with his fist.

“Don’t…” she pleaded, her eyes scanning for a way out. He only smiled. In desperation, she tried to kick him, but he blocked it, and pulled her to her feet, squeezing her wrist until she cried out in pain, and then he tossed her into a nearby wall, where her head hit first. She stood, unsteady on her feet. Before she could regain composure, he was on her. His control was gone, and he just lashed out, landing punch after punch with as much might as he could muster. Any time she tried to curl up and minimize her presence, he’d yank her up by the hair and do worse.

When his rage was spent, he stood, panting, trying to catch his breath. The rush of adrenaline, of releasing all that pent up hurt and anger, had been gratifying. She was lying in a heap in the corner, unmoving. He wasn’t sure if she was breathing or not, but just then, he wasn’t sure he cared. He left her there, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asami immediately sat up, having gone from being asleep to a full blown panic attack in a flash. Frantically, she looked around, and when she saw Dave, things only seemed to get worse. Gasping for air, she fumbled in her efforts to throw the covers aside and get away. Her fear had her in full flight and panic mode as she quickly left the room as quietly as she could manage, and she headed for one of the bathrooms, where she promptly locked the door and slowly backed away. She was trying hard to calm down, but it wasn’t working. Looking around, she tried to get an idea, and she caught herself in the mirror, and stared for several minutes before turning around and started up the shower. She stripped down, and stood under the hot spray for a few minutes before slowly sinking down and hugging her knees to her chest.

Finally, she had her cry, and let out the sobs. No one should be able to hear her over the water. Even if they could, she had gone for the bathroom furthest from her room, so at the very least it wouldn’t be Dave. She stayed there until the water cooled, and then eventually got icy, before eventually reaching over and shutting it off. Slowly, she got up and slid the shower door aside in order to step out, towel off, and re-dress. Quietly, she left the bathroom and entered the hallway. She was definitely exhausted now, but there was no way she could go back to her room. Instead, she made her way to the guest room, where she again locked the door before sliding into a bed and trying to cuddle down under the covers, and settle enough to attempt sleep once more.

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