Promising Danielle

Mountains of gratitude to honeywldcat for her editing of this entire series.

*

I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. I really didn't know what to do. Danielle had sunk into a deep depression for the past week, and there seemed to be nothing I could do to pull her out of it.

Several times over the past week, she had woken from nightmares and fled from my arms only to return to them seconds later. She was listless and refused to leave bed, save for going to the bathroom. I brought her all meals, what little of them she ate, and generally kept her company surfing the net while she just kind of watched.

I was beginning to worry. She had said that they hadn't gotten to her, but I was beginning to think that something had happened in that basement that she hadn't told me about. I didn't want to press her, knowing that if she wasn't telling me of her own volition, it wasn't something she wanted me to know.

"Have you eaten today?" I turned and asked her.

"No. I'm not hungry."

"Honey, you need to eat something." I said, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear.

"I don't want anything." I could be talking to a goddamned bedpost for the amount of emotion she was expressing.

"What do you want to eat." It wasn't a question. I was going to force feed her if I needed to. I didn't rescue her to wither away to nothing while she wallowed in ...whatever it was she was wallowing in.

"I said I don't want anything."

"I'll go make you a quesadilla, and then we can talk." She looked away from me when I said "talk."

I rose, not wanting to leave, but somehow not wanting to stay either. I made my way to the empty kitchen and cooked her up a quick quesadilla. Danielle always liked those, or at least seemed to like them when I made them.

"Here you go." I set the plate down on the bed nest to her.

"I said I didn't want anything."

"Please eat?" I let the full brunt of my concern show for the first time. I'd been trying to put up a brave front, hoping she'd allow herself to lean on me for support. I was wrong. I was tired of trying in vain to offer my support, so instead, I showed her my vulnerability.

"Ok." She said, showing some semblance of concern. At least it was an emotion.

She sat up and ate mechanically. She began to eat faster as her body seemed to realize that she hadn't eaten all day. Soon, she leaned back onto the pile of pillows at the head of the bed and sighed heavily.

"We need to talk." I said, a little too bluntly.

"Do we? About what?"

"You."

"Me? What about me?" She looked at me with hardening eyes, clearly ready for a fight. It was almost as if I could see her soul retreat into the fortress of her body. I took a deep breath, doing my best to come across as concerned and not accusing.

"I think there's something you're not telling me."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" She asked. Her indifference was more threatening than any hostility she could have displayed.

"I think something happened while you were...away from me." It had become harder and harder to talk frankly about the incident as more and more time was put between us and it.

"I told you they didn't touch me."

"And I believe you, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?"

"Something happened, something you aren't telling me about." I had no idea where I was going with this.

"Well, there wasn't."

"Then why are you like this?"

"Gee, I don't know, could it be that I was kidnapped by my rapists and strapped to a table for twelve hours while they debated the first way to defile me?"

Several things registered on me as she said that. She called them her rapists and not her family. This was a very large change, or at least I felt it was. Had whatever happened hurt her more psychologically than I was putting stock in? I became very aware that I needed to tread carefully.

"You seemed to get over that quickly enough. You were fine for the first two days back, and then you just seemed to sink down to where you are now."

"You wouldn't understand." She looked away from me.

"I'm sure I wouldn't." This is the turning point. Something is going to happen with my next sentence. I can feel it in my bones, in my very blood. That something terrifies me. "But please explain it to me and let me try?"

She looked at me, clearly judging me. Her turquoise eyes had never looked so piercing. I could feel her taking stock of my soul, weighing each of my merits and faults against the rubric of her uncertainty.

"All the time they abused me, I somehow believed that they 'loved' me, by having sex with me. After all, my parents loved each other, and they had sex, so if they loved me, then they should have sex with me. It was part of what made us family, or so I thought.

When they strapped me to that table, I asked them how they could do that to their daughter. My dad just threw his head back and laughed. 'You think I'd fuck my own daughter? What kind of pervert do you think I am? You were adopted, you dumb slut.'"

She sat expressionless, a hollow husk of my lover.

"My whole life has been a sham. I really have been raped my whole life."

"Had."

"What?"

"Had been raped your whole life."

"Now isn't the time to be a grammar Nazi."

"'Have' implies that it is a continuing thing. Last time I checked, I promised to never let that happen."

She just kind of stared at me, almost waiting for me to say something. It was fucking unnerving.

"How can I make this better?"

"You can't." Those are some of the most painful words she has ever said to me, especially because at the moment, not only did she mean them, they were true.

"What can I do to help?"

"Nothing."

A strange new feeling surged through my chest. Is this the feeling of my heart breaking? Is this what it feels like to have one's feelings trampled in the wake of a tragedy?

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"I think that would be best." She said, looking away from me. Yes, this was indeed the feeling of my heart breaking.

I got up and walked towards the door, stopping just short of opening it. I had no idea where I was going to go. The world was far too populated to find the solace I needed at this hour. The last time I took a walk, I ran into Danielle.

"I love you." I said, unfortunately what I thought would be for the last time.

"What did you say?"

"I said, 'I love you.'" Goddammit, how the fuck can this be happening? Is this the end of us?

"Nobody who's said that to me has ever meant it."

"I mean it."

"What am I supposed to say to that?" She looked over at me. Why do you have to look at my soul when it's breaking? It hurts so much more.

"Nothing. You don't have to say anything."

"So, that's it? You're leaving me?"

"No, I'm not. If anything, you're leaving me."

"And how do you figure that?" She was becoming angry now.

"Well, you've done nothing but mope for a week, which is understandable. But you won't let me help you. You tell me I can't, that I don't understand, and you're right, I don't understand. You said you want to be alone, so that's what I'm trying to do. All I want is to see you smile again, to be that happy girl that curled up next to me and watched movies."

"Well, she's dead."

"No she's not. I know she's in there, hiding behind those eyes."

"What makes you so sure? I can't feel her."

"I can see her in your eyes, begging to be let out, to be free, to smile again." I heaved a great sigh. "I love you, Dani."

"Don't you ever call me that!" She raged. If she was going to be angry at me, I was damn well going to be angry back.

"I'll call the woman I love by the name she's told me to call her!" I strode back over too her, realizing she might hit me. I really didn't care. I put my face right up close to hers. "I love you, Dani." I grabbed her jaw and pulled her lips to mine. If we were going to be done, I was going to get one last kiss.

I felt her shift. The woman before me changed as our lips made contact. At first it felt like I was kissing a stranger, none of the familiarity there in her mouth. But then screaming up from what I can only assume were the depths of her soul was the warmth and joy that I had come to find in her kiss. She kissed me back, seemingly allowing her body to go limp against mine.

I wrapped an arm around her to steady her, lest she fall. She kissed me back, my Dani rising from the ashes of her torn soul. I felt warm liquid on my cheeks. Was I crying? No, but I was close.

"I'm sorry!" She whispered, burying her face in my neck. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shh," I soothed as she clung to me. "You're back, and that's all that matters."

"Do you still love me?"

"Of course I do!" She grabbed fistfuls of my shirt and crushed herself against me.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I've felt dead every day for the last week. I've felt nothing." She began to sob into my chest. What does that mean "I've felt nothing?" Had she been just as much of a shell as she appeared to be?

"But you can feel now?" She ground her face against me, indicating a nod. "What do you feel?" I'm not sure I want to know that.

"Hurt." She choked out.

It isn't something that you can convey with written word, the utter multiplicity of meanings she expressed with that one syllable. She was hurt in the full sense of the word, and every thesaurus entry would be part of, but not a whole substitute for, the type of hurt she felt.

"All my life...they never told me. Never-" She was interrupted by some sort of crushing within her. It was like she was being stabbed in the gut from the way she writhed for a moment.

"Never what, Dani?"

"Never loved me."

It's a horrible thing to say, but her family never loved her. What made it worse was it was true. She had effectively loved everyone for her entire life and never once received any back.

Until now that is. I made it my personal mission to make sure that she knew I loved her, no matter the cost. I swear I am going to make her the best loved woman on earth.

"I love you. I guess I'll have to make up for everyone then, won't I?"

That got a small smile from her.

"Do you remember what I told you in the shower after we first made love?"

"That it was nice to not have to worry about me knowing about your family?"

"Before that." She sniffed.

"That it was nice to finally have someone?"

"Yeah." She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down a little. "I meant it. You're all I have now."

She looked up at me and didn't even need to say what would logically come next. Never has an expression never said been better communicated. She was asking me not to leave her. Was she stupid? Did she honestly think that I would have even the slightest inclination to be without her? My emotionally addled brain was thinking of marrying her just so I could stay with her forever.

Suddenly overtaken with a mastadonic wave of emotion, I swooped down and claimed her lips with my own. She seemed stunned, but snaked her hand up my back to pull me down into a kiss so deep it hurt. It was like she was trying to fuse my face to hers.

I felt something stir within me that I can only describe as my soul itself, mingling with some part of Dani. I felt too, part of her being enter into me and bind itself to my essence. I would not realize the significance of this until much later in life, but hindsight is 20/20. It was the kiss that changed my life.

I toppled onto the bed with her, cradling her against me. Every part of her body seemed to be trying to press against me, eager for my closeness and warmth.

"I want to be with you forever. Yours." She whispered in a small voice.

"You can be, if that's what you want." I gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Because that's what I want." You could say that what I wanted at the moment was to marry her, but asking her that in both my and her highly emotional state was not a good idea.

"I don't ever want to be her again."

"What?" It's staggering how blunt inquiring for clarification is.

"Her. The girl I was a few minutes ago. I don't want to be her ever again."

"I don't you to be her either, but I think that's beyond my ability to help, sweetheart. I think you need real help."

"I don't want therapy! I don't want to talk about it! I just want it to go away!" She growled into my chest.

"I know. I know you do. But this isn't a matter of something you want; this is a matter of something you need." I tilted her tear streaked face to look up at me. "There are things we want to do, there are things we should do, there are things we have to do, and there are things we need to do, and seeing a counselor is something you need to do." I could see that she was hurt by what I was saying, and thus I was too. But there wasn't a doubt in my mind; she needed help. Help that I couldn't give.

"I don't think you're nuts. I know you aren't crazy, but honey, this isn't something that my help alone can fix. Does that at least make sense?"

She nodded and returned her face to my chest, again bunching up fistfuls of my t-shirt in her hands.

"I've been called crazy my whole life by those...people." She spat. "It was their cover for using me. Every time I would try and go for help, they would wave my 'condition' in everyone's face." She took a deep, ragged breath. "I know you just want to help, and I know that I need it, but it just digs into old wounds when you say I need a therapist."

"I'm sorry, honey."

"Will you come with me? Sit with me and hold my hand while I talk to the...therapist." She asked, only managing to get the last word out with some clear effort.

"Of course I will." I hugged her tight, feeling her relax slightly. "I'll do whatever I can to help. Anything you need."

"What if I need you to love me?"

"That is the one thing I want, should, have, and need to do." She melted against me, leaning on me for support. I gently rubbed her back, trying my best to give her as much love as I could while she started to pick herself back up. It was another ten minutes before she spoke.

"Can we go to bed?"

"Of course." I smiled against the top of her head before kissing it. She got herself up and walked to the bathroom. I heard the water running and the brushing of teeth. I got up and undressed, climbing back into the warm spot we had been laying in.

A short moment later, Danielle walked back over in the dark and crawled under the covers with me, having pulled her sweatpants and sweatshirt off.

"Can you hold me?" She asked, pressing her body against mine.

"Few things would make me happier." I smiled, wrapping her in my arms. "Anything else I can do?"

"Kiss me goodnight and tell me you love me." She needed me to do that tonight. I leaned down and kissed her as gently as I could while still conveying the raw love I had for her.

"I love you." I whispered so that only she would hear. I kissed her forehead and snuggled in with her for the night, content in my arms for the first time all week.

***

I hate falling dreams. You can feel the mattress pulling away from you and you start to fall. And then suddenly you've hit the mattress you thought had just evaporated and have twitched horribly, generally covered in cold sweat. It really pisses me off, because I wake up for no good reason.

That's what I was expecting when I felt the first dropping sensation. Instead of a mattress, I found myself on the floor, somehow ejected from my bed. Sitting up and disentangling myself from the sheet I looked up to see Danielle thrashing about in her sleep.

"No! Stop!" She kicked and flailed as if trying to fight off enemies from all sides. The blankets were being both tossed off of her and somehow tangled back into her tornado of limbs.

Getting to my feet, I tried to get near her. Doing my best not to get hit by her flailing, I took hold of her shoulders and shook her, as if that was somehow going to wake her from her thrashing.

"Dani! Wake up! Danielle!" I shook her hard.

"No!" She shouted as her eyes flew open wildly. For a moment, her eyes were filled with fear, seeing someone else holding her down. Realizing that it was I who had my hands on her shoulder, her fearful eyes were suddenly equally full of tears. She covered her face with her hands and rolled away from me. Curling herself into the fetal position, she began to cry.

This was her first nightmare since that first week after she was rescued. I wasn't entirely sure how to help her. I gently reached out and touched her back. Nothing. She continued to sob, but didn't pull away from me. Sitting up, I pulled her into my lap sideways. She leaned against me, her head resting my chest, still curled tightly into herself like a newborn.

I began to rub her back, resting my head on hers, nuzzling her scalp every so often just to remind her that I was there and I loved her. Slowly, she unfolded and wrapped herself around me, as I did her. Her tears gently salted my chest as they poured from her eyes and down her cheeks.

"You're alright, sweetheart. They can't hurt you." She pressed her face deeper into my chest, if that was possible. I stroked her hair and what little of her face I could reach. She shivered and shuddered, adrenaline still in her veins, tears trying to lance it from her body. Soon her tears ebbed, but her body still shook.

"It was just like when you found me, only this time you didn't save me." She explained without me asking. I held her tight, doing my best to meld her to me through sheer force. She relaxed, most of the remaining tension draining from her and allowing herself to be held.

"You're safe, Dani."

"I know." She shuddered out, resting her cheek against me. She wearily raised a hand to wipe her cheeks and eyes.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." She pouted in my lap, looking at my sternum. Normally, she would have looked adorable, her bottom lip curling out like that. The tears on her cheeks and the sadness in her eyes however, made her look weak and alone.

"It's not your fault." I kissed her forehead.

"Why do you have to be so nice about it?" She looked rather more distressed that I wasn't mad at her.

"What?" I was confused. Nice? I was contemplating making an insensitive crazy joke just now.'

"Why do you always have to be understanding and accommodating?" She positively challenged me. "Why does it always have to be about me?"

"Because it is about you; you're the one that needs to heal, Dani. Me getting angry at you for needing-" I paused looking for the right word, besides "help" "-support is like me getting angry at your for having a broken leg and being unable to walk up and down stairs." I tried to stroke her face but she seemed to not want to listen to me right now.

"But I hit you."

"Did you?"

"I knocked you out of bed!"

"More like shoved or pushed. I thought I was having a falling dream, as opposed to being ejected from my bed."

"But-"

"You need to stop blaming yourself." I interrupted gently, silencing her with a finger on the lips.

"I'm trying." She fell against me, her cheek smacking against my chest. "It's hard when it's all you know how to do though."

"But you're trying, and that's what matters."

"Not hard enough apparently. I just can't help it."

"Not yet you can't. But you will. And then life will be perfect." I joked stroking her back. She snorted.

"Perfect? All it will take for life to be perfect is for me to stop blaming myself?"

"I think it will be. I mean, I've got you, and that's all that matters to me."

She looked up at me with something bordering on worship, like I had just gotten her cat out of a tree and returned it to her, after fighting a mountain lion.

"What did I do to deserve you?" She asked, half to herself, half to me.

"I don't know, but it will have to wait until morning." I kissed the top of her head. "Think you can make it back to sleep?" God knows I needed it; I had a presentation for class the following afternoon, and I was trying to get as much rest as I could. I felt her nod on me. "Good." I smiled, kissing her forehead.