“AH!”
Penelope bolted awake, arms flailing. Just a dream, just a dream, you're— Wait. She squinted around. It was all wrong, where was her window? This wasn't her bed.
Where am I???
“Pen?” A whisper from out of the dark. “Hey, you're okay—”
A hand touched her shoulder.
Instinctively, she flung her arm out, connecting with something solid.
“Hhhh— Sorry, it's me! It's—coughcough— Schneider!”
Penelope froze. Oh.
She took in her surroundings with new clarity. This was Schneider's room. She'd been spending her first full night at Schneider's… and she'd had a nightmare.
“Oh my god,” she covered her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I'm so sorry, are you okay?”
He let out a weak laugh. “What, me? No worries babe.” He cleared his throat. “How’re you doing?”
“I'm—” awful. Not only had she woken him up in the middle night and probably scared the crap out of him, she'd gone and attacked him.
A fist closed around her pattering heart. Squeezed.
She shouldn't have come here, he was going to regret everything. Why was she like this, she couldn't—
“Hey, whoawhoa,” she couldn't see him in the dark, but as if from far away, she felt hands rubbing her arms. Up. Down. Up... “Are you panicking? Pen, it's okay. You're safe.” The hands squeezed and released. “I'm going to turn the light on, alright?”
The world tilted as he leaned, and then she could see again.
But her body was now locked in place, and she couldn't get it to move. It was like she wasn’t inside of it anymore. She tried to pull herself back in, but the fear burned and she shied away from it. Being Penelope was just too much right now.
“Pen? Penelope? Hey, it's okay—”
She waved him away. She couldn't answer him, only knew she couldn’t stand to be touched. Somewhere in her, she knew he was only trying to help. Somewhere in her, guilt burned, trying to drag her further down. But along with the fear, she left it behind.
She didn’t know how long she floated there. Her world narrowed to the sensation of her body breathing without her. Everything else passed her by.
A stray memory floated in.
She let it stay.
“What you described, that feeling of being outside your own body… that sounds like you’ve been dissociating.”
Pam, at the group. Talking to another woman about her own panic attacks.
“When you’re ready, you’ll want to ground yourself in what’s real. Counting the different things you can sense with all five of your senses is a good way to start. Sight, touch. Hearing…”
Penelope's body took a breath.
What can you see? (One - Bedspread. Two - Hands.) What can you feel? (One - Beneath her: bed. Two - on her torso: Shirt. Three - On her neck: hair.) What can you hear…?
“—so I would put on a tape, and with my headphones it could just about block out the storm. They say it's nice if someone sings to you, but you've mentioned, once or twice, or…a lot, that my singing is not quite your cup of tea, so I won't subject you to my smooth jams, but I really do think that music—”
The soft, meandering stream of Schneider babble became her focus point. Slowly, she pulled herself back towards it. Facts bubbled up in her mind, links in the chain. Schneider's singing voice was awful. His voice now was soothing. His everyday voice when he was playing the fool was higher.
Dimly, another memory floated back in. His band had played at the street festival. That was a few years back, now. (Why wasn't she at the festival?) She'd been doing something. Something annoying. Whatever it was, she'd had a shit day. She'd settled into the couch. Cold beer in hand. Trying to relax. Then... his voice, drifting through the window.
‘Love isn't always on time!’
She would tease him about it later. But in the moment, it carried that familiarity. His ever-present enthusiasm. It had made her laugh, cheered her up.
“Heh.”
Schneider cut off mid-run-on-sentence. “—Pen?”
“Hey,” she replied softly. Her skin felt raw, a little too sensitive. But she was back inside it. She was okay.
Abruptly, she went from knowing she would fly into pieces if someone touched her, to feeling like she’d fly apart without someone’s arms around her to keep her whole. It wasn’t her, normally. But in that moment, it was what she needed. Turning, she threw herself across the space he’d left between them, burying her face into his shoulder.
Mid-motion she had a second to regret it, worry catching up to her. What if he pushed her away, like she had to him?
But of course, Schneider didn’t hesitate. The moment she settled into him, his arms surrounded her, wrapping her up as he breathed a sigh of relief. Contentment began to wash over her, as if he were transferring life back into her, chest to chest.
“How're you doing?”
She winced. “Embarrassed?”
“Heyyy, come on now,” he rubbed her back. “You're really going to be embarrassed around Schneider of all people?” His chuckle rumbled through his chest. “That dude's suuuuper embarrassing. Don’t even stress.”
A chuckle bubbled up from under her exhaustion. “Are you really talking in the third person right now?”
“See? Totally embarrassing. It's a good thing he's so rugged and sexy.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “Though how he got that gorgeous ladyfriend, I'll never know.”
She wondered if he could feel her smiling into his arm. She hoped so. This is what Schneider did— however low she felt, however far her mind went down the worst path, he could pull her back up to better places.
Then, her hand pressed into his sternum and he winced.
She sat up abruptly. “Oh no. After I woke up, I hit you, didn’t I.”
He laughed awkwardly, like she'd caught him in something. “I meeean, a little?”
She covered her mouth with her hands. “I'm so sorry.”
He psshaw-ed at her. “Don't even worry boo, you know I like it a little rough,” he winked at her.
She shoved him lightly.
“Aw yeah, that's the stuff.”
“Knock it off,” she grumbled. “I know there's a difference between what we do when we’re both fully conscious… and getting caught in the crossfire of a crazy woman flailing.”
“Hey,” he put his hands on her shoulders, nudging her to look at him. “Don’t talk about Penelope like that, I like her a lot.” And his smile was so honest and understanding and kind that she had to break her eyes away.
“Look…” she forced the smile off her face. “I shouldn’t stay the night anymore.”
“What?” The dismay in his voice made it so hard not to take it back immediately. “Aw Pen, please don't worry.” He pulled her into his arms, then moved back to look at her face. “Wait, was it waking up somewhere new that freaked you out?”
“I mean… it didn’t help. But, come on, this isn't fun for you.” She tried for a joke. “You need your beauty sleep, uninterrupted by flailing limbs.”
“Luckily…” Schneider brushed a curl off her forehead. “I am already very beautiful.”
He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. “Schneider!”
“Okay.” He let her go and moved back, taking her hands in his instead. His face even did that thing where it smoothed out into actual seriousness. It was a little unnerving, but she could never look away. “Okay. How often does this happen?”
The level of honesty they normally had warred with her instinct to pretend everything was fine. “...Not as much as it used to.” She admitted. “But—”
Schneider shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “Babe, if the alternative is you waking up alone… You shouldn't have to.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I want to be there.”
Her heart stuttered. She ducked away from serious Schneider's earnest gaze. “That's… really sweet, actually.”
Biting her lip, she let out a sigh. Hopefully he would take that as enough of an admission that he was right and she was grateful without her having to actually say it. Surrendering, she flopped back onto the bed. “Alright. It does barely happen anymore. The last one was… months ago, I can’t even remember. And today was a bad one, but I should remember where I am now.”
He lay down, so they were both on their sides facing each other. “Alright. If you need anything else… just let me know. Your personal Schneiderbear, glass of warm milk, pictures of pigs in tutus… Actual pigs in tutus…”
That surprised a laugh out of her. He grinned, then softened again. “Or… if you just need space. Whatever it is, I got you, boo.”
Her eyes fell to the good foot and a half of bed he'd left between them. She knew he wanted to respect her boundaries, to let her reach out if she wanted. But she also knew that part of him wanted to feel feel wanted. Reached for.
And she wanted to cross that space.
Before she really knew what she was doing, her hand reached out to his face, knuckles smoothing across his beard. “I like having you here.”
“Good.” He reached up and took her hand with his own, leaving them resting against his cheek. “Because if you were in my bed without me, that would be a little weird.”
Dios, now he was laughing at his own freaking joke. “Is it too late to take it back?”
“Absolutely. You were nice to me, I heard it, there’s no coming back from that now.”
She shook her head, teasing smile softening as she gazed at him.
There were so many different things she loved about having Schneider in her life. She loved the moments of teasing each other, the back and forth. She loved seeing him with her kids, with her mami, an odd shape that nevertheless fit into their family puzzle. And yeah, in more recent days there was a lot to love about the sex, and she loved how much he trusted her, how he let her take control in ways no one else had. But what she might love the most is after all that, there were these moments of quiet. The moments where one or both of them could be a little broken, because together they could hold the pieces in place.
She moved across the space towards him, curling her hands against his chest as she touched her forehead to his.
Schneider smoothed his thumb over her jaw, pausing for a long held breath—before he pressed a kiss to her lips so soft and so sweet it made her heart ache. Before she could deepen it, he pulled away and gently touched his lips to her forehead.
Her thudding heart finally began to slow.
Safe. I feel safe.
Her eyes slid shut.
So, so slowly, he pressed kisses to her eyelids, her cheeks, her temples. There was something so calming about it, like a blessing.
With one last kiss to the tip of her nose, he whispered: “Be right back.” So relaxed and halfway back to sleep, she didn’t even register what he'd said until she felt him shift away and get off the bed.
She cracked one eye. “Where'd you—?”
“Shh.” He was already climbing in on the other side of her. This stupid bed of his was so big there was room for him to fit.
His arms wrapped around her and she realized why he'd moved. It was so he could spoon her without her having to lie on her bad shoulder.
She laughed softly. “You didn’t have to move.” It didn’t even hurt so bad these days. She avoided it mostly on habit.
He laid a kiss to that shoulder. “Eh,” was his only defense, and what could she say to that?
Instead, he curled up around her—arm around her waist, hand on her boob (“They're so warm!”). He even pulled his legs up to tuck underneath hers.
He'd curled up around her completely, a little bonier than she was used to, but still strong. The warmth and feel of him all around her filled her chest and spread throughout her body, infusing her heartbeat. Safe. Safe. Safe.
She sighed.
“This good?”
More than good. She felt more content than her sleep deprived brain could remember.
She nodded, feeling too much to know how to put into words. Instead, she hugged him back the best she could from her position, squeezing his arm and pressing herself back against him a little more firmly.
I love you.
Her eyes darted backwards automatically—as if she could see him through her own skull—cheeks flushing in the dark. The thought had just appeared, riding a wave of contentment from the deep recesses of her brain.
She tucked the thought back to where it’d come from. She wasn't ready to say that yet. But… Soon.
Yeah.
As she drifted into sleep, she knew. It was only a matter of time.
