Chapter 2 The Nightmare

The scream tore through the house at 3:17 AM. Raw. Desperate. A sound no one should make.

I shot upright my heart racing from the shout, and sheets tangled around my legs which caused me to fall. For a second, I thought I had imagined it. Then it came again.

"No!" followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Oh my God. It was Daniel.

I was out of bed before my brain caught up. I didn't even see myself running down the hallway, as it seemed like the electricity had powered down. When I reached his door I didn't know if I should just stay outside or open it up.

Do not go in!! I tried telling myself but nothing changed. Another choked gasp pulled me forward.

Fuck.

I pushed the door open and strained my eyes to look for Daniel around the room as it was dark and the only light seemed to be coming from the candle lit by the bedside table. Daniel knelt beside the bed, one hand braced against the mattress and the other tangled in his hair. His black t-shirt clung to his shoulders and his back rose and fell so quickly like he just ran 4 miles.

"Daniel?"

No response.

I stepped closer. "Hey, you okay?"

His head snapped up. For a terrifying heartbeat, his eyes were wild, unfocused, dangerous, like he was hiding something and had just been caught. Then they went blank. Controlled. Calm.

"Elena."

"You were screaming," I said.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "My apologies for disturbing you."

I stared at him, like really stared. That was it?? No explanation, no vulnerability. The same wall I had been hitting since he arrived.

I crossed my arms. "You good?"

"Fine."

"Because if we are doing nightly horror movie reenactments, I would like a schedule."

"Go back to bed."

The dismissal stung. I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped. Something caught my eye. His fingers trembled against the mattress. I almost didn't see it because of how scared he looked earlier. For the first time since he walked into my bar, Daniel looked....human.

I sighed. "You want some water or..."

"No."

The word cut through the silence. I held my hands up. "Right. Well, try not to die before morning then. I have tried my best."

I did not wait for a response. I could not sleep anyway. After an hour of staring at the ceiling, I gave up and padded to the kitchen. The house was silent except for the soft creak of his floorboards above me. He was awake too so it seems. After THAT kind of nightmare, I don't think I would sleep if I were in his place.

Daniel then came downstairs after a while and went to the sink, filling a glass of water. He did not turn. Just acted like I wasn't in the same room as him.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" I said.

Silence.

I grabbed the whiskey bottle above the fridge and poured a finger into my coffee. "Sure you do not want any? Liquid courage and all that."

His shoulders stiffened. "I don't drink."

"Right. Vows." I took a sip, watching him. "You're always this chatty after nightmares, or am I special?"

Finally, he turned. Eyes shadowed. Jaw set. "What do you want, Elena?"

I really want to know what your dream was about. I couldn't obviously say that anyway.

I rolled my eyes. "Just making sure you are not going to stab me in my sleep."

A beat. Then he muttered low enough that I almost did not catch it.

"I do not stab civilians."

First honest words. First crack in the wall.

I arched a brow. "Civilians?"

He drained the water and set the glass down carefully. "Goodnight."

The night stretched on. I sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around the mug, listening to the storm outside soften into a drizzle. My mind replayed his tremor, the tight line of his jaw, the way his body had looked human in its exhaustion. It made me restless.

By the time morning arrived, gray and heavy, I had not slept.

I woke to the smell of coffee, with Daniel at the stove, flipping pancakes with care. Sleeves rolled up, revealing tattoos, dark ink curling across his forearms in patterns I could not decipher. A priest with tattoos? Is God fucking kidding me? If he has this many tattoos on his hand then imagine what's underneath the collar. I'd like to...

"Elena, are you getting what I'm saying to you?" I blinked.

"Uh, yeah sorry my mind was somewhere else. You cook?"

"Occasionally."

I slumped into a chair. "What's the occasion? Guilt over scaring me shitless last night?"

"A repayment for your hospitality."

I smirked. "Wow. A whole pancake. How generous."

He plated two stacks and slid one toward me. "Eat."

I stared at the perfect golden circles. "These look suspiciously good."

"I spent time in a monastery. They taught us to cook."

First personal detail he had ever volunteered. I chewed a bite slowly, still a little skeptical about it. "So, you woke up one day and decided to be a priest?"

His eyes flicked toward mine. "Something like that."

Silence stretched across the room. I chewed another piece again. These are the best pancakes I've had in a while. "These are actually amazing."

He smiled faintly before returning to his unreadable expression. I cleaned up and grabbed my bag.

The streets shone with leftover rain as Daniel and I walked in silence. Three feet of space between us.

Mrs. Henderson intercepted us outside the post office. With her eyes wide and lips pressed tight, I already braced myself for what was coming. "Father Daniel! I heard about the church. Such a shame." Her gaze shifted to me with disgust. "And you're staying with... Elena?"

Daniel's voice was cold. "Temporarily."

She leaned closer. "You know, the rectory at St. Mary's is vacant..."

"I'm fine where I am."

Her lips pressed tighter. "Well. If you need anything appropriate..."

I smirked. "Do not worry, Margaret. He sleeps with a Bible between us."

Her gasp followed us down the street.

Daniel exhaled sharply. "That was not necessary."

"Neither was her face, yet here we are."

He said nothing. Just a quiet, "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"Not asking about last night."

I blinked. Morning softened his edges. Flecks of gold caught in his dark eyes. I shrugged. "Not my business."

Long silence.

Then he said quietly, almost missed it. "It is not you. The distance. It is..."

"Vows," I finished.

His jaw tightened. "Yes."

I nodded, needing space. "Well. See you at home, Father."

I did not look back.