Song: Once Upon A Dream // Lana Del Rey

iamchill12 this one is for you!!!

•••

2 WEEKS LATER

I couldn't see anything but white.

I was standing on a white surface, the sky was white, and everything around me was white. It was like the world didn't exist and I was floating in nothingness.

Except, I wasn't floating. I looked down at my figure to find myself wearing a pair of black leggings and a tank top with no shoes. This seemed familiar.

I tried to take a step forward, but I couldn't move. I was rooted to the floor. I looked around the blank abyss and wondered how far the nothingness spanned.

The only sound that could be heard was white noise mixed with the faint sound of a baby's cries. It didn't sound like Céline, nor did it sound like Cody, but I knew the sound. It was the kind of familiarity that made your hair stand and skin form goosebumps.

What the fuck was happening?

My head swiveled to the side to try and see if there was anything I could make out, but I was met with the same, white, nothingness that seemed to be neverending. I moved to raise my hand but felt it tug back to my side, almost like it was cuffed to my body.

"Hello, sweetheart," A voice echoed through the atmosphere.

Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

I was forced to watch as a man appeared in front of me out of thin air. It was a whirl of dust that collected to form the same very guy that held a gun to my head. The man was decked out in black, a stark contrast to the environment surrounding us. His jaw was covered in a long stubble. His crooked nose twitched as his thin lips' corners tugged up into a smile, his blue eyes gleaming with violence.

I willed my legs to move, to run as far away from this man as possible, but I was stuck.

What did he want from me?

"You didn't really think I was done with you, did you?" He sneered, tilting his head to the side as he taunted me with a pout.

Fucking run, goddamn it.

I could feel the beginnings of a headache as the blood swirled around my brain. My heartbeat could be heard from a distance, and, mixed with the cries of the baby, it deafened me. My hands, that were pressed up against the side of my thighs, were shaking. 

Was I going to die this time?

The man snapped his fingers and smirked once he saw me flinch at the action. Another whirl of dust behind him caught my attention, and I glanced behind him to watch as it settled into the man I spent two years of my life with. In his arms was a baby I couldn't recognize, but the wails were familiar. I felt chills run down my spine at the sight of the newborn squirming in his arms, begging to be let go.

Let them go; let me go.

I stared into Adam's dark, cold eyes and wondered how I never suspected him of potentially fucking me over like this. What had I done to deserve this? Similarly to the man, he was also in a black ensemble, and the color matched that of his eyes. They didn't carry the love and happiness they usually did.

"You see, sweetheart, we never realized that we didn't take everything away from you." The man said with a sickly sweet smile that made my skin crawl.

I had nothing left– they had nothing to take away from me.

My head was pounding, and my eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall. I struggled against the invisible hold the man had on me. I glanced at Adam with desperation and looked at the baby who was the only one of us dressed in white. The child's arms flapped around the air, trying to get Adam to let go, but to no avail. Like me, the baby was stuck.

"I want to take everything away from you," He snarled and snapped his fingers again. Like a robot, Adam advanced, so he was standing right next to the man and held the baby an arms width away from him. 

With glassy eyes, the man glanced at the baby sinisterly, "This, my dear, is your child."

My heart stopped. My eyes flickered between the baby and the man, and then my gaze fell upon the gun he held in his hand. I shook my head violently, begging the man not to do anything. I fought against the invisible restraints and tried to run towards the baby; my baby. My voice was caught in my throat and I couldn't seem to do anything but scream.

He seemed to be enjoying my helplessness, "I'm going to take every single thing away from you, sweetheart, and I'm going to start with your own flesh and blood."

I screamed again, shaking my head as fat, hot tears rolled down my cheeks. No, no, no. The click of a gun made me pause, and my eyes widened as he lifted the gun up so that it pointed directly at my child's forehead. The baby's wails grew louder, and the man smirked sadistically.

I screamed and thrashed around where I was frozen, desperate to run towards my child. Stop, I wanted to shout, but I couldn't do anything but scream until my throat felt raw and sore. Stop, stop–

"Amber wake the fuck up!" A familiar voice yelled making me snap my head to the right. I could still see the man, Adam, and my child from my peripheral vision, and I continued screaming, hoping somebody would come and help me.

"It's just a dream, Bee. Wake up!" The voice said again. Bee– that's what Dylan called me. Maybe he could help me save my child. I screamed again, maybe he'd come, maybe he'd save us. Dylan would save us.

I felt a grip on my shoulders, "Amber, honey, listen to me. It's Rose. You need to wake up, hon. It's just a dream; open your eyes and everything will disappear." A soft voice coaxed.

It's just a dream, just a dream, a dream. My eyes snapped open and I was met with a white ceiling. My chest heaved with the heavy breaths I was taking, and my skin felt hot and sticky. My mouth was dry and my throat was sore.

Feelings frozen, I averted my gaze to my right and found Rose staring me with wide eyes. She looked as scared as I was, but once she met my eyes, her face softened and she leaned forward to brush my hair away from my face. She looked like she had tears in her eyes, and now that I thought about it, I could feel the remnants of tears on my face.

"You're okay now, Amber," She whispered, kissing my forehead in reassurance. She glanced to my left and swallowed loudly, "I'm going to get you some water, alright?"

I nodded gratefully and blinked to make sure that this was real. My eyes followed Rose as she walked out of the room. The bed dipped on my left making me jump in fright, and when I glanced at whoever it was, I felt relief wash over me when I saw my older brother.

He was looking at me, concern evident on his features. Suddenly, I felt my mouth fill with hot spit and my stomach tighten. With wide eyes, I threw back my covers and ran towards the bathroom. I fell onto my knees in front of the toilet bowl and emptied out my stomach's contents. I felt someone brush the hair away from my face before they gathered it in their hands behind my head.

After dry heaving, I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me, and my arms fell limp onto my sides as I rested my head onto the surface of the bowl. I closed my eyes for a bit, ignoring how Dylan got up and walked away. I heard the running of the tap before my brother returned. He pressed a cool, damp, cloth against my forehead.

I heard a set of footsteps walk back into my room, "I filled her bottle with water." Rose said and I felt her presence in front of me. I opened my eyes and glanced at my Camelbak water bottle. She lifted the nozzle and put it up to my mouth. I swirled the water in my mouth before spitting it into the toilet. Then, I took another sip so the cool liquid could relieve my throat.

"I'm going to go put Antoine back to sleep," She said, glancing between me and my brother. I winced, feeling bad that my screams woke him up, but she shook her head reassuringly before she walked out of the bathroom.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dylan asked in a whisper. I looked at my brother and took in his disheveled state. His hair was a mess, he was shirtless and had a pair of sweatpants on. He looked like he just woke up, and I felt guilty that I'd disrupted his sleep.

"No," I replied hoarsely, forcing myself up from the toilet. It flushed behind me as I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste. Refusing to look myself in the mirror, I wet my toothbrush that held the toothpaste and started brushing my teeth to rid myself of the taste of acid.

Dylan huffed and ran a hand through his hair, "Talking about it might help you get shit off your chest, Bee. It can be good for you."

"How'd you get into my room?" The question came out muffled due to the toothpaste in my mouth, but my brother seemed to understand it. My door was locked.

"I used the keys," He replied, blinking. "Amber, can we please talk about it? You were screaming bloody murder, and it scared me."

I pulled my hair away from my face and bent down to spit out the toothpaste. I didn't want to relive my dreams and I didn't want to talk about it.

"Can you get out? I want to shower." I replied with a blank expression. His eyes ran over my face, clearly worried for me, but I didn't want him to fret. He had three kids to take care of and a job to get to in a few hours. He needed all the sleep he could get.

I knew I wouldn't be able to go to sleep after this, though.

He seemed ready to protest, but after I gave him a look, he sighed and turned to leave the room. Once the door closed behind him, I finally built up the courage to look at my reflection. Strands of hair stuck to my face from the sweat, and my eyes were bloodshot. The dark circles under my eyes were accentuated by the bags. I looked like a hot mess and reeked of sweat.

I've had dreams like this before, but they never included a child. Sometimes, he killed Adam, other times, he'd kill me, but it was never a baby. On rare occasions, nobody ever died, and I was just transported back to the night I was robbed.

It's become a routine at this point: wake up from a nightmare, throw up, shower, then stay awake doing nothing. I've never had Dylan wake me up before, and that just went to show how much the dream shook me to the core.

With a tired sigh, I peeled my clothes off my body and ran a hot shower, forcing the dream to the back of my mind.

•••

Dylan brought me breakfast-in-bed. It was a yogurt parfait and a fruit salad with a glass of strawberry juice. The doctor's appointment made Dylan attentive when it came to what I ate, and so he'd bring me food that was high in whatever nutrients I needed. It was nice and was slowly helping me regain my appetite.

After checking up on me a final time, Dylan and Rose left for work with the children. Dylan was slightly hesitant at first, but after reassuring him I was fine, he relented. He did mumble something about checking up on me at lunchtime, though.

I was sitting in the living room, a song playing through the overhead speakers, as I refreshed my email for what felt like the thousandth time this hour. I'd sent in my application to Fashionistique a week ago, and I didn't hear anything back from them. All I got was an email confirming receiving my resumé, which was a start I guess.

The sound of the doorbell echoed around the house, and my muscles tensed as I got up to check the security cameras. The doorbell started incessantly ringing and I rolled my eyes when I saw Nick pressing down on the button repeatedly.

I buzzed him in and went back to my seat on the couch. I wrapped my blanket around my figure and placed my laptop on my lap again. I refreshed the page and was disappointed when I wasn't met with a new email.

Like the elephant he is, Nick stomped into the house before stopping in front of me. With his hands on his hips, he gave me a once over, "Get the fuck up, bitch."

Instinctively, my leg shot out and kicked him in the shin. He scowled and ripped the laptop off my lap, "We're going out," He started before he crinkled his nose in disgust. "You smell like death and sadness."

"I don't want to go out," I replied, choosing to brush over his comment. He was just being dramatic. "I'm all good here."

He gave me a look of pure bewilderment, "Honey, you're lightyears away from 'all good'. You look like you've been run over by a truck a good five times."

"Nick," I groaned, pulling my blanket tighter. "I just want to stay at home."

"And throw yourself a pity party?" He scoffed, glancing at my laptop's screen and scrolled through it. "What are you even doing? You have no windows open other than your emails."

I stretched my arm and ripped the laptop out of his grasp before closing it shut, "I was just checking them, alright?"

"You know what, Amber?" He asked. I stared at him and waited for him to continue speaking but he just stared at me expectantly.

"Are you going to continue?" I pressed, furrowing my eyebrows. He rolled his eyes but continued.

"I'd let you continue on with this pity party if you actually did it properly. Maybe some junk food and a movie– heck I'd even join you. But refreshing your fucking emails isn't the way to do it, and so I will say this again. We're going out."

I don't think I've ever seen Nick so serious about something, and the sight of it made me want to treat him like a proper adult. But then I remember all the stupid shit he's done in the past and the thought flew out of the window.

I stared up at him with an eyebrow raised defiantly, making no move to get up and change. He narrowed his eyes at me, "Amber if you don't change, I'll make you leave dressed as you already are."

I glanced down at my outfit; one of Dylan's graphic hoodies and a pair of black shorts. I wouldn't normally go out dressed like this, but I knew Nick didn't have it in him to properly assume an authoritarian role. He wouldn't be able to force me out.

I made no move to go and change, and he widened his eyes to give me a warning. I gave him a sweet smile before glancing at my laptop and refreshing the window. Without a word, he left the living room to do whatever it was that he was going to.

Two minutes later, he walked back into the room. He had a pair of shoes in his grasp and looked around the living room before his eyes zeroed in on my phone. He picked it up and pocketed it before giving me a final look. Again, I made no move to get up, and with a frustrated sigh, he picked up my laptop and threw it to the side.

Before I could yell at him, he leaned down and wrapped an arm around my waist before hoisting me up. My eyes widened at the sensation, and with his other hand, he adjusted his grip on me by throwing me over his shoulder. 

"Nick put me the fuck down!" I shouted, slapping his back.

He pinched the back of my calf, making me yelp, "Shut the fuck up. I gave you a warning and you didn't listen, so now, we're going to do this my way."

He ran down the steps with ease– it was almost like I didn't weigh much. Nick was bulkier than Dylan, he spent more time in the gym and was, therefore, more muscular. I probably weighed less than what he benched.

He threw open the door to the passenger's seat and literally tossed me in. Then, he threw the pair of shoes and my phone in my face and slammed the door shut. Before I could open the door and run out, he got into the driver's seat and turned on the child lock.

He pressed the start button, and when his car came to life, he peeled out of our driveway. With a huff of frustration, I glanced down at my shoes and leaned down to put them on. Once I was done, I went to disconnect his phone from the car so I could connect mine, but he slapped my hand away.

"My car, my music," He said, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

"You know, you practically kidnapped me," I started in an accusatory tone, not helping that my voice was loud. I was so close to yelling at him. "The least you can do is let me put my music on."

"Blah, blah, blah," He mocked in a high-pitched voice. I glared at him and crossed my arms under my chest. "If I kidnapped you, what makes you think I care about being courteous?"

With that, I reached my arm over the console and hit his arm. He didn't seem to be affected, and I furrowed my eyebrows. I knew my slaps never hurt, but he usually pretended to be injured and would stir up a whole story about how I wounded him. This was unlike him.

I leaned back into my seat and glanced out the window, biting my lip, "Why did you even come over?"

"Dylan called me, super freaked out. Something about you having a nightmare. I don't even know why he called me because how the fuck would I be of help? Anyways, since Dylan has become useless after having three children, I decided to take matters into my own hands."

Nick was staring at the road with a strange concentration. I decided that I didn't like it when Nick was serious. He was a source of comic relief; he was supposed to make me feel better by forgetting something ever happened.

"What are you going to do? Ask me about my nightmares and shit?" I grumbled. We were far away from home now, and I didn't have my public transport pass, so I was stuck with him for the time being.

He snorted, "I love you, Amber, I really do, but the fuck is that going to do? You obviously won't tell me what it's about and I'll barely listen. I have something else in mind, though." He said deviously before exiting the highway. Five minutes later we pulled up to a professional-looking building.

Without sparing me a glance, he picked up his phone and stepped out of the car. He waited for me by the hood of the car. I stared at the building through the windshield. It was a thin, relatively medium-sized, building made of glass.

I hesitantly stepped out of the car and placed my hands in the pocket of the hoodie. With a soft smile, Nick threw an arm over my shoulder and directed me into the building. It was quiet and had two or three people sitting in a lounge. We walked up to the receptionist's desk and she greeted us with a smile.

"Hi!" Nick chirped. "I made an appointment under Amber Amity's name."

I scrunched up my nose– an appointment? I looked around the floor to find something that would help me figure out what this place was, but I couldn't. The receptionist typed away on her computer before nodding and telling us somebody would be right with us.

"Nick, where are we?" I asked suspiciously.

"A therapist," He shrugged nonchalantly. My eyes bugged out of my head at his response.

"Nick, I don't fucking need a therapist. Can we just go? I don't want to waste the doctor's time." I replied hotly, tugging on his forearm. The man didn't even move.

I glanced up at him and saw him staring at me with a serious expression that made me clamp my mouth shut.

"Listen, Amber, I know I've never brought up what happened to you since I didn't want you to think much about it, but I can tell how much it affected you. I'm worried about you; everyone is. You need a safe space to process your emotions and what happened to you. Your falling into a downward spiral, Amby. You get nightmares, panic attacks. You've lost your appetite, blank out a lot, and are uncharacteristically quiet all the time. That's not healthy." He said softly, looking me directly in the eye. 

I swallowed loudly and felt tears prick at the back of my eyes.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight, "Amby, you're clearly not okay, and it's completely fine to admit it. I obviously don't know how to help you, and neither does Dylan or Rose, but seeing a therapist is good for you. You don't have to tell us anything you tell her, and she'll help you learn how to cope with everything."

I swiped at the corner of my eye and hesitantly nodded. He beamed at the action and relaxed. We sat in the lounge and waited for somebody to come to get me. Maybe seeing a therapist would be good– the whole reason I didn't want to tell anyone was because I didn't want them to worry over me. But that was the therapist's job; to worry, listen, and help me.

"You know, I used to go to therapy," Nick voiced out making me snap my head in his direction. He nodded and continued, "It was when I found Isaac on his bathroom floor. His pulse was faint and he looked like a corpse. Then, he was diagnosed with anorexia and went to rehab in Paris. I felt really guilty for never noticing the signs, and would sometimes get nightmares of finding him dead instead of passed out. Seeing a therapist helped me cope with the guilt and the nightmares."

"Yeah?" I whispered in shock. I knew Isaac went to rehab, but I never thought it also affected Nick. Did Dylan feel like shit because I refused to talk to him about any of this?

He gave me a reassuring smile, "Yup. Once you get into the rhythm of visiting a therapist, you'll realize how freeing it is. You're paying somebody to listen to you as you vent, and they help you sort through your issues. It's pretty cool."

"Miss Amber Amity?" Somebody asked from beside the elevator. I glanced up and met their eyes. She gave me a smile and tilted her head in the direction of the lift.

Nick patted my thigh, "If you don't like it, I'm not going to pressure you into going again." He said honestly. "I'll be here waiting. Your session is an hour long."

"Okay," I whispered, standing up from my seat. I gave Nick a shaky smile and dusted my hoodie before walking in the direction of the woman who came to get me.

"Hi, Amber. I'm Doctor Vega." She introduced herself as we stepped into the elevator.

"My therapist?"

She chuckled and nodded, "Yeah. I know you're probably nervous about this, Nick did tell me how it was your first time, but we're going to do this at your own pace. You can tell me whatever you want to, or we can sit in silence for the entire hour."

I nodded and swallowed as the elevator opened up into another floor. She walked towards a certain door, unlocked it, then pushed it open. She gestured for me to enter. As I looked around the blue room and two white sofas, I thought that, yeah, maybe this would be good for me.

•••

I walked out of the therapist's room feeling better than I did when I first walked in. I told her about my pregnancy and my family. About how papa died ten years ago, and anything else after that. I told her about the robbery, and how I felt during it. She listened with open ears. She didn't interrupt me; she didn't look at me with pity; she just sat and listened to me. Then, when I finished talking, she'd help me process my emotions, and explained why the experience stuck by me.

I didn't tell her about my nightmares or panic attacks, but I think she knew that I had them. She never pressured me into telling her about them though. It felt nice to have someone listen to me and not force me to tell them anything.

I walked up to Nick with a smile on my face, and he grinned at the sight. He jumped up from his seat on the couch in the lounge and skipped towards me.

"So, how was it?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

I wrapped my arm around his waist and pressed the side of my face into his chest, "Thank you, Nicky, I really needed that."

He pushed me away by my forehead and scowled with narrowed eyes, "What did I say about calling me that?"

I pretended to think about it before shrugging, "Don't remember, if I'm being honest." I replied with a teasing tone. He rolled his eyes and draped an arm along my shoulder.

"Come on, we've got other places to go." He said, dragging me out of the building and back to his car. He unlocked it and we strapped on our seatbelts before he pulled away from the therapist's building.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself in the parking lot of a shopping mall with Nick. Silently, we walked side-by-side into the mall through the sliding doors. It was relatively empty since it was still day-time and people had jobs to attend.

"Alright, what shops do you want to go to?" He asked looking around the open space.

I shrugged, "I don't really feel like shopping."

He rolled his eyes, "That's a lie and you know it. You've been wearing the same clothes for the past four weeks, and that's not very Amber of you." He told me with a knowing look. "The least you can do is get yourself jeans or something."

I stuffed my hands into the pocket of the hoodie, "Alright," I said. I looked around the mall trying to locate a shop I was interested in. I was still scared of getting my belongings stolen from me again, but seeing the therapist has made me feel slightly more like myself. Nothing is more me than shopping.

"Do you have a credit card or something, because I sure as hell am not paying for any of your shit." He told me with a shake of his head. I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone shaking it.

"I've got Apple Pay," I replied before feeling the phone vibrate. I checked the screen and was met with a picture of Dylan and me when I graduated from university. I smiled before swiping, "Hello?"

"Amber?" Dylan asked, clearly panicked. "Where the fuck are you? I've been calling your name for the past five minutes– are you not at home?"

"No?" I answered but it sounded more like a question. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I was going to take you out for lunch or something." He admitted. "Where the fuck are you?"

"Put it on speaker," Nick mouthed and I rolled my eyes before doing as he asked.

"I'm out with Nick. He came over and... uh, surprised me with a day out," I replied, choosing to leave out the part where he threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Nick?" He asked incredulously and I could imagine him doing a doubletake.

"Hi, Dill Pickle!" Nick chirped. 

"Yup," I popped the p. Nick had his signature shit-eating grin on his face. "We're in the mall now."

"The mall?" He repeated in a similar bewildered tone. "What are you guys doing?"

"Shopping, duh," Nick replied with a shake of his head. "It's a me-and-Amber-day today. First, we went somewhere to talk about how she's feeling, and now, we're at the mall, getting a new wardrobe."

I knew what this fucker was trying to do. He was trying to rile him up. Ever since he got guardianship over me, Dylan and I had grown closer to each other, and he became super protective of me. That meant that he didn't like being left out of the loop when it came to me. 

Dylan was silent on his end of the phone, "Talk about how she's feeling?" He asked through the phone. "Shopping?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "Can you not form sentences without repeating what we say? We're going to have lunch now– maybe some McDonald's."

Dylan was quick with his reply, "No. That's not good for her or the baby. Can you guys just wait for me, and then we can all have lunch together or something– somewhere that serves actual food."

"Yeah, sure, just be quick," I replied before Nick could say something to aggravate Dylan, who I could sense was slowly becoming frustrated with his best friend.

"Whatever. I'll take Amber shopping now, hurry your ass up." Nick said, and with that, he clicked the red button and hung up on my brother. He grinned down at me, "He's totally jealous."

I snorted, "Why would he be?"

"The man has been trying to get you out of this slump for weeks now, and I did it in one day. Now we're hanging out like besties– he hasn't done that with you in a while now. He's totally jealous."

And with an evil laugh, he wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me in the direction of a store, "You know what would make him even more jealous? If you replaced your wallpaper with a picture of you and me."

My wallpaper was a picture of me, Rose, Dylan, and Antoine a few years back. We went on a family vacation after I graduated. Dylan even had the picture printed and hung it up beside the portrait of me, him, and papa. 

"It would be fun to mess with Dylan," I admitted after a bit of thought. Nick's grin widened and he threw an arm over my shoulder and ruffled my hair. 

"I knew there was a reason we get along so well," He said through a chuckle. "Let's make the man blow a gasket."

I returned the grin with an even wider one, "Let's."

•••

– 24/06/20

I'm going to the beach tomorrow morning and I cannot explain to you guys how excited I am.

Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter– the next one will be so much fun to write.