It was a tight clutch on his chest, the phantom of desperation reflected on her eyes, blurring her sight. Her screams had so many times echoed throught the hospital walls, throght the Loft’s corridors and also in his mind — he closed his eyes and could hear her suffering, could imagine what they had done to her and he did nothing about it for way too long. The incapability suffocated him, made his mouth dry and his palms itch to be stained by their blood. How dare them? How dare them break her, who once everyone one, not only the hitman, thought was unbreakable. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re fine now, you’re fine now…” His words were a mere whisper, the one he had been saying for the past week, trying to approch her, tumblr down her wary sense, trying to amend and gain her trust once again. “I am here, I promised you I wouldn’t leave. I won’t leave, I am here.”
If she was able to feel anything close to feeling safe, it was Robbie that made her feel that way, but she didn’t know why. Before being tortured, Dylan could have counted the number of conversations she had had with him on one hand. Yet, he still didn’t leave her side at the hospital, he didn’t dare stray away from her. She was thankful for that, thankful for him being there at a time when she needed somebody but wouldn’t admit it. “I know you are.” Dylan offered him a small smile, that and the few words that she spoke was all she could muster up at that moment in time. Letting the tension in her shoulders sag, she felt all of of the muscles in her body finally relax for the first time since she had woken up from her nightmare.
He automatically backed away, taking his hand out of her hair. He didn’t know what happened in that basement, probably if were to keep them alive for longer it would be better not tell him so soon — but he was sure that simple movement caused her something. “I’m sorry. Dylan, look a me, open your eyes. You’re safe, I’m here.” Robbie tried to avoid touching her as his desperation grew, only calling for her and being unable of doing anything.
You’re safe. His words echoed in her mind, but that was all they were. An echo, a ghost of something she once felt and probably wouldn’t feel again for a long time. Not even here, at the Loft, with Robbie by her side just like he had been each day and night at the hospital with his promises of keeping him safe. She didn’t feel safe though, not around him, not around anyone. That was the worst part of all of this, they didn’t break her body, they broke her spirit. It made Dylan wonder what Hook’s end game had been in torturing them; to break them physically or emotionally? Scars and wounds would heal over time, but how long would it take for her to shake the feeling that she had left a part of herself behind in that basement.
Robbie abandoned whatever he had in hands, quickly making his way to Dylan’s room, gun in hand, he entered the place. “Dylan.” Once he had noticed there was no threat, he dropped the gun on ground, rushing to grab her hand, brushing her hair away. “Dylan, it’s fine. You’re fine.”
She didn’t feel fine, she felt like she was trapped inside of the basement again. Enduring whatever kind of torture Hook had decided to put her through that day; waterboarding, repeatedly beating her or Dylan’s personal favourite of being branded with a hot poker. Letting out a raggedy breath, Dylan winced as he brushed the hair away from her face, remembering how Hook would do the same every time he finished with covering her mouth with a cloth and pouring water over her face.
Silver fell silent but didn’t move from her spot on the bed. It would have felt wrong to leave Dylan when she was as raw as she was.
"You don’t have to stay with me." Dylan leaned back against the wall, her breathing had finally evened itself out. After over a week of not having any privacy in the hospital, Dylan wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they used to be. Whether that was before her time in the basement or her time in Neverland altogether remained unclear to her at the moment.
"You screamed pretty loud, Dyl." She spoke quietly. "We’re used to it. Nightmares, sleep walking, insomnia. But that doesn’t mean we’re not worried. Do you want to talk about it?”
"I guess I had a pretty bad dream." That was an understatement. "No, it was just a bad dream. Everyone has them. No need to sit around a camp fire and have share time."
"I just…" he stopped, he knew Dylan wasn’t an open person, but a scream that terrified coming from someone he cared about picked at his curiosity in an unsettling way. "It’s just well…you screamed…" his voice was soft, and his whole body language changed to calm and careful.
"I thought that was somebody else." She rubbed at her temples, she was feeling as tired as she sounded. Though, if she was the one that screamed in her sleep like Harry said, then it made sense as to why she was feeling restless and exhausted.
"Nah, I was awake. Researching and all that." Her head tilted, studying the thief’s movements. "Nightmare?"
Dylan blinked in confusion, puzzled as to why Silver had posed the question towards her. Shouldn’t she be asking the screamer? Dylan tried to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach that told her Silver already was.
He had gotten up for an early morning piss, his body jerking at the sound of the scream, instincts kicking in. The first one was to flinch, old childhood habits poking through, once that had subsided Harry followed the origin of it and burst through a room he would normally knock on, eyes quickly scanning the area. “What happened?! Are you okay?!”
"I’m fine," She said breathlessly, wiping a bead of sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand. "Why wouldn’t I be?"
Silver didn’t knock when she flung the door open, trying to find the source of the scream. “Dylan…” Despite her small run from her room to Dylan’s, she was calm, her tone even, careful, even as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Dylan flinched as the door flung open, half expecting it to be Hook or one of the other Jolly Rogers coming to drag her back to the basement. She let out a sigh of relief once she heard Silver’s voice, and ran her hand backwards through her hair.
"That wake you up too?"
Her scream pierced the air, causing Dylan to be jolted into consciousness. The back of her top felt damp against her skin from the feverish tossing and turning she had been doing in her sleep, her chest rising and falling in heavy and uneven breaths.