not quite right

Who: Danny and Janey
When: late evening
Where: their place

By the time Danny got home he was drenched. He hadn’t stayed long at the Round, more to get out of Elle’s hair and avoid any more lectures than him being satisfied with how much he’d had to drink. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent the walk home pulling off his flask. He’d had to do something to deal with the downpour.

Thankfully their apartment wasn’t a ground floor, nor a top floor, so while it wasn’t nice, it wasn’t flooded or leaking in all the rain. What was wrong was that the lights didn’t come on when he tried the switch. Great. Power was out. Frowning he left his dripping jacket in a heap by the door. “Janey?”

Janey was curled up in the living room on an armchair, holding a cup of tea, adrift somewhere between waking and sleeping. Sleepless nights had been pretty much the norm recently, though admittedly she was always less likely to sleep on nights when Danny wasn’t around, which was getting to be nearly every night. Sometimes, like tonight, she could settle down comfortably and get some sort of rest, even if her mind was still racing. She found it was less lonely to sit up in the chair, where she wasn’t so painfully aware of her husband’s absence.

Danny’s voice in the darkness startled her, cutting through the murmur of the storm outside. She fumbled for the lamp beside the chair and gave the chain a tug, which produced nothing but a useless clicking noise. “You scared me,” she said, pulling herself upright in the chair.

He followed her voice until he saw her, spotting her as the lightning lit up the apartment again. “Power’s out I think,” he said voice not exactly gentle, but possibly getting there. “What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Though he’d found her in the chair more than one night this week. At least it wasn’t as late tonight.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she answered. “You’re home early tonight.” Not early on any normal person’s standards, but early for Danny, and earlier than she’d expected him. Maybe that was a good sign, though she could smell the alcohol on him as he came closer.

“Dreadful out. Didn’t seem worth staying out in it.” That and he hadn’t wanted Elle to ask more questions or issues stern lectures. “Come on, you should get to bed. Nothing to do now with the power out.” He offered her a hand meaning to walk her in there himself.

Does that mean when you don’t come home, I’m not worth coming home to? It was a passing thought, but it was there, and it stung. “Are you coming to bed?” she asked, taking her husband’s hand.

Danny hesitated at the question. Was it better to go with her, lay there and stare at the ceiling, trying his damnedest not to think on the fact that he’d been flirted with by a girl, one too young for him and two for the first time in a long while. She hadn’t seemed after anything, which was what most women who hit on him a bars were. Pros after a john, or drinks or anything else. Instead she’d just wanted to talk to him. Was it better to lie in bed with his wife or to sit on the chair he’d just had her vacate until exhaustion kicked in? “I can if you want me to,” he said, letting her make the decision for him.

Janey hated how much she needed him; it was selfish. She could’ve shrugged and told him that it was his call, but she was fairly certain she knew what his decision would be. She pulled herself out of the chair and embraced him, resting her head on his chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I do.”

He felt awful with her arms around him like that, his mind so distracted from everything at home. Rubbing at her back, he kissed the top of her head and nodded. “Sure then,” he said, pulling away enough to take her back towards the bedroom. He could be here, take care of her in the storm.

Janey kept an arm around Danny’s waist as she followed him towards the bedroom. She’d been having nightmares recently, when she had been sleeping. Since the massacre she’d gone back to the old nightmares, the ones where she’d wake up in a pool of blood, like she had with the first miscarriage. Only now she woke up in the park, surrounded by bodies. Beside her, on top of her, so that she could smell their decay. Sometimes she was suffocating beneath them--or maybe she was already one of them. It was so horrifyingly real, and she’d wake up and reach for her husband, but he was rarely there. She’d taken to hugging his pillow when he was gone, to try and keep herself feeling safe.

He kept her there, holding on to his wife even if the guilt from that moment in the rain with another woman weighed on him. Once he led them into their dark bedroom though he let it fall away though, letting go of his wife to pull off his jacket and tie. It was a passing moment from a woman he wouldn’t see again. That was all. It wasn’t his fault. He’d kept his distance. “Sorry it’s dark in here,” he said, glancing at his wife, even if there was little he could do about the power being out.

Danny’s apology confused her. “It’s not your fault,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him. Maybe he’s feeling guilty because he hasn’t been around, Janey thought. But if guilt was what had brought him home early, that was better than not having him around. Though it hurt to think their marriage could have fallen to such a low point.

“Well we could live somewhere nicer,” he pointed out but didn’t elaborate more than that. He probably could have gotten them in a better place. “Will the storm keep you up?” he asked, opening a drawer and fishing around in it for pajamas.

Janey wasn’t sure what Danny meant by that; wasn’t sure whether he was berating himself, their living situation, or both. She’d never been discontent with the apartment--while he was probably right, they’d chosen it originally for both the low cost and the location, close enough to the station, the church, and the school. She didn’t have the energy to ask him about it now, though. “I haven’t been sleeping much in general,” she admitted. The storm didn’t have much to do with it.

He looked at her as the lightning flashed, confusion on his features. “Why’s that?” he asked, finding something to change into, or what he guessed was something to change into and drifting closer to her.

Janey didn’t quite know what to say. She stepped away from him on the pretext of turning down the covers on their bed. She knew Danny must get sick of her nightmares, sick of her complaining, but she also knew if she didn’t explain herself he’d probably push her until she did. And as much as a part of her blamed his absence for her sleepless nights, she wasn’t sure that was a battle worth fighting in the dark, when they were both exhausted. She could only imagine it ending badly. “Everything that’s been going on, I guess.” That was a vague enough answer to get her off the hook, she hoped. She hadn’t eliminated anything specific but hadn’t incriminated anything either.

That was a brush off answer if there ever was one but Danny wound up nodding, trying not to take offense that she’d moved away from him. “Hopefully tonight’s better. If not...maybe you could see the doctor about it?” Maybe they could give her something to help her sleep. It wasn’t perfect, but it might help.

Janey shrugged. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, you know? I’ve been dealing with this since...” Since when? she thought. In a way it seemed like her whole life, but it hadn’t been. The anxiety, the nightmares, the ache she felt--all of that had started after she’d gotten married. After the first miscarriage. “Well, for a long time.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her husband undress.

“Do you want to see someone about it?” he asked pulling off the dress shirt and then his pants, replacing the bottoms with pajamas, but forgoing more than the undershirt. Even with the rain it was still warm out. Too warm for April. “I guess I thought it got better from time to time. I don’t want you to suffer babe.”

“It does get better, sometimes,” Janey agreed. “But it never lasts that way. Things have been pretty bad again, since the attacks.” Thunder rumbled, and Janey sank back against the pillows with an exhausted sigh.

He felt bad because he’d barely noticed. Part of it was that he wasn’t around enough, but really he just hadn’t noticed. “I should have realized that,” he told her apologizing and moving towards the bed to join her. “Do you think you should see someone? A doctor or something?”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Janey said, more to placate her husband than anything else. It was worth a shot, of course, but she didn’t really think a doctor could do much to soothe her problems, which were entirely in her own mind.

“Maybe we should make you an appointment this week. Might do you some good to at least ask,” he said reaching for her, but not too strongly. She seemed to be avoiding him, but he was at least going to try and focus on her and not elsewhere.

Janey relaxed slightly at her husband’s touch. She was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but she also wanted to enjoy the rarity of Danny’s company. “Okay,” she agreed.

While her settling against him eased some of his concerns Danny still felt slightly awkward holding on to her. Often he wasn't sure if he helped or hurt when it came to Janey. "Okay. We can call tomorrow." He hoped she was agreeing for herself and not because he suggested it but he didn't have the heart to ask if that was the case.

“Mm.” Janey’s reply was noncommittal. If Danny wanted to make the call, Janey would go to the appointment, but she didn’t want to think much about it now. She wasn’t tired, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk--she didn’t even know what to say. She opened her mouth to speak--I’m glad you came home--the phrase was on her lips, but she bit it back. She wasn’t sure it was true.

The lack of an answer gave Danny nothing to work with and he wound up falling silent as well, watching the lightning flash outside their window. It was all he could do he guessed, just be there and not bother her, hoping she fell asleep.