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The first snow that year didn’t come until the end of December. The holidays were busy and more than once Brian had wished that he could just stay in his room the entire time. It was safer there; away from the people, from the noise. He’d almost given in to the panic, but he’d been able to keep his composure in front of his friends and family and that was quite an accomplishment, if he said so himself.

He allowed himself to laugh out loud at his dog’s crazy antics. Bonnie jumped from left to right in the snow, total bewilderment evident in every move that she made.

Brian guessed the Border Collie had never seen snow before and it was quite funny how she handled the situation.

“I think she’s getting the hang of it,” A voice said and Brian stiffened immediately.

He didn’t say anything. Usually, if he ignored Thomas long enough, he would go away. But he always came back.

The young dark-skinned man stuffed his hands in his pockets and shivered, before taking a place beside Brian. On edge, Brian clenched his teeth, feeling the tension in his whole body. Thomas was dead, he told himself. This wasn’t healthy.

He hadn’t told anybody about Thomas. Not his wife, not Nick, not even Mellory Phillips, his therapist. They would think he was crazy. And even if he was, he did not want to go back to the hospital. That was behind him. He had gotten better. He was better.

He was fine.

“But do you think she’ll like it more if there was this big mountain of snow?” Thomas went on, seemingly completely unbothered by the lack of response. “Because I do. We should make this big mountain of snow, and then let her jump in it. She’ll have the time of her life.”

Brian kept his eyes firmly on his dog, who was now tentatively trying to lick the cold white stuff from the ground. The pond was frozen, the ducks were gone.

And Brian couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen snow either. He bent down, scooping up a handful and kneading it into a ball.
“Bonnie!”

Bonnie looked up immediately, right before the ball of snow came sailing into her face. She barked once; then ran a safe distance away from Brian’s aim. She looked at him questioningly, not understanding the sudden assault.

“Oh come on, Bon,” Brian laughed, “It was just a joke.”

Bonnie, happy to hear her owner laughing; came running back, her tail wagging and she barked at him again.

Brian smiled, slowly rising from the bench. He swayed a little and frowned. His surroundings were spinning around him and he reached a hand back for the bench.

His arms were tingling and he closed his eyes, a wave of dizziness swallowing him.

“No, not now,” he mumbled, but his voice sounded distant, even to him. There were a lot of people in the house, and those people were worried enough about him as it was. He’d kind of gone out to avoid their pitiful stares and there good willing advice; claiming that a little fresh air would do him good. “Damnit.”

This would be the second one this week, and that was quite possibly a new record for him. He shivered, for the first time feeling the actual coldness of the snow.

Bonnie barked at him continuously, but he barely registered her.

“Maybe you should call for help,” Thomas piped up.

“Maybe you should shut up,” Brian replied, but he was pretty sure that his response was only in his head.

Still, that didn’t stop Thomas.

“You’re going to have a seizure, aren’t you?” the younger man inquired.

Brian wanted to close his eyes to drown him out, but he needed to stay conscious, hoping that nobody would hear Bonnie’s barks and come out. Bonnie’s job was actually to alert people, but there were more than a few times that Brian wished he could just get it over with without everybody knowing.

“When’s the last time you properly slept, dude?” Thomas asked, his voice sounding concerned. “Like, a week ago, maybe?”

Brian felt the darkness closing in, but Thomas didn’t disappear. He didn’t remember when he’d last slept through the night. It had been too long. His head was pounding and it was so hard to keep his eyes open.

Brian shivered again before his vision was harshly flooded with whiteness, then black, then nothing.

Nothing but Thomas. The young man stayed beside him, and Brian was vaguely aware of other voices breaking through the haze, along with a dog barking. Thomas nodded at him slowly. “I’m staying right here with you, brother,” he said solemnly.

Brian stared back at him as Thomas slowly started to blur. Not long after, not even Thomas seemed to exist anymore.

Next thing Brian knew, it was warm. And soft. And he heard soft but urgent voices whispering above him.

“You said this was the second time this week?”

“Yeah, it’s probably a lack of sleep thing.”

“Shouldn’t we call a doctor?”

“Not unless he has one right after.”

“For how long does he usually stay unconscious?”

I’m not unconscious, Kevin; Brian thought exasperated. Still, he couldn’t get himself to move even a little bit.

“Not long,” Leighanne said softly, and Brian felt her hand comb through his hair. “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

Brian couldn’t see him, but he could sense Kevin pacing the room nervously, “I knew it was a good idea to go on another hiatus.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t exactly pleased with that either.”

“Poor thing looks like he needs at least three months of sleep,” Brian heard his mother speak up and his heart ached with the sadness in her voice. It was time to let them know he could hear everything they said.

Bonnie’s wet nose was nudging his hand and he stroked her head carefully. With a groan he opened his eyes, his blurred, unfocused vision slowly settling on his wife, his mother, and Kevin, who all looked at him worriedly. Even Bonnie seemed to be concerned.

“You okay there, buddy?” Kevin asked, his dark eyebrows furrowed.

Brian managed to nod slightly and was fairly proud of that little controlled movement, thank you very much.

Kevin didn’t light up.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked the predictable question quickly.

“L’ving room?” Brian mumbled, his words slurring just a tiny bit.

Kevin nodded tightly, finally backing off with a sigh.

“Y’all scaring the crap out of us.”

“S’rry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kevin smiled slightly, “You gonna be okay?”

“Think so.”

“I’mma give you some rest and join the overly concerned peeps in the kitchen,” Kevin informed, looking at the two women meaningfully.

“I’ll stay here,” Jackie volunteered before Brian could protest.

Kevin nodded almost unnoticeably, his face still as grim as before. The room went quiet after he and Leighanne left. Brian felt a shiver run through him as he sat up a little straighter on the couch.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” he mumbled.

“Oh, it’s alright sweetie,” his mother said as she sat down next to him, “It was fairly scary looking though.”

“So I’ve been told,” Brian smiled sadly.

Mom nodded, then it was silent again. “Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you be honest with me?” she looked up, tears already brimming in her eyes.

Brian swallowed thickly, looking down before facing his mother, “Sure,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Is it coming back?”

“What?”

“The memories? Are you remembering the things from... then? Is that why you have trouble sleeping?”

“She’s asking the real questions now, dude.” Brian looked up slightly and saw Thomas’ huddled figure in the corner of the room.

“No,” Brian said softly, “I don’t think so. It’s just stress, Mom. I’m gonna be a father after all.”

“Good,” Mom nodded, a little relieved, “You shouldn’t try to remember. It’s better if it stays buried.”

Brian swallowed and looked down at his hands, not sure he believed that. He didn’t remember much detail from when he was... there. He remembered Thomas, and Thomas’ death, and the basement. But all the other stuff was a fog, and he was more than a little afraid to clear it up. Doctor Phillips had told him that it was a way for his mind to cope with the traumatic events, to just block everything out and try to move on and that at one point, he wouldn’t even be able to remember the basement anymore.

Brian looked forward to that day.

But he also knew that things didn’t stay buried forever.

“I won’t try,” he whispered.

“God is protecting you,” Mom said softly.

Thomas scoffed in his corner and Brian clenched his jaw, suddenly feeling his throat close up. “I just want to sleep, Mom,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Have faith, Brian.”

“Is that your answer to everything?” Brian replied, a little harsher than he intended.

The look of hurt in his mother’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed, “God will come through, don’t believe me, believe Him.”

“I can’t,” Brian’s voice broke and he sagged against his mother, “He wasn’t there, that much I do know.”

“Sometimes, He needs a bit of time to find His children that are lost,” Mom nodded, the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

“I can’t sleep, Mom. I just want to sleep. I didn’t mean to be lost.”

“I know, I know, baby,” Mom whispered as she wrapped her arms around his shaking form carefully, as to not startle him, “I know it’s hard, and I cannot imagine just how hard. Nobody can. But know that every single person you know is willing to help. Put your trust in them, and in Him.”

Brian tried to nod and compose himself quickly. Looking up, he was Thomas was right beside his mother, lips pressed into a thin line and a look of disbelief in his eyes. “I will, Ma,” Brian said softly.

“And whenever you feel like things are getting worse, I need you to tell us, alright?”

And he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything. About his dreams, about Thomas, about the strange feeling of being watched. He wanted to, but what would she think? How could he do that to her? So he nodded, looking down to the ground. “I’mma try and get some sleep now.”

“Sounds like the most wonderful idea,” his mother smiled lovingly before leaving.

He laid back down on the couch, a bit dizzy. Thomas was still there, looking at him in dismay. “You know she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, right?”

“She’s my mother,” Brian hissed warningly, fairly sure nobody could hear him.

“’Have faith’? How does that make anything better?” Thomas grunted.

“Just shut up, you’re not making anything better either,” Brian mumbled.

“I’m just saying. God wasn’t there when that monster took us to come out and play.”

Brian felt the bile rising in his throat as the image of the stairs in the basement floated through his mind.

He didn’t say anything as he closed his eyes, his hand searching for Bonnie’s head in assurance.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Thomas sneered, still perfectly audible even with Brian’s eyes closed, “Was he ever there at all?”

Brian didn't get any sleep that day.