The nightmares were unbearable. Losing everyone over and over. Each death adding to the twisted reality that you were going insane.

But atleast you had Van? You didn’t mind the scars on her face, you liked them even. She had some protective instinct over you.

So every night you shoot up or wake in a cold sweat. She’s right there, soothing you. Brushing your hair, kissing your knuckles, kissing you—

So when you wake after seeing Jackie dead again, she stirs. You try to coax her back to sleep anyway.

“Another one,” She mumbles but it’s more of a statement than a question. “you okay?”