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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Orson woke to someone grabbing his arms tightly. He screamed again, trying to fight whoever had hold of him. "Leave me alone!" He yanked one arm free and sent his fist flying at whoever held him.

"Fuck." The person released him. "Orson, it's Jared. Wake up. You're dreaming again."

He could barely breathe, a pressure so heavy sitting on his chest he thought he was going to die. Tears fell down his cheeks as he struggled against whatever held him.

"Orson, wake up!"

"No, go away, don't do this!" He fought against whatever was holding him, gasping as his body suddenly broke free from whoever confined him. He jumped up, trying to run, but fell hard, hitting his head on something. "Shit."

He blinked several times as he realized where he was. He was in his bedroom. He took several breaths before he was able to calm down enough to think.

"Orson, it's Jared. I'm turning on the light." Jared sounded as if he was across the room.

Orson still cried, the dream too real in his mind to push it away that fast. His body shook as he tried to convince himself that he was safe.

Light filled the room, and he looked up to see Jared stepping slowly toward him.

"You're bleeding. I need to look at your head." Jared stopped a few steps away from him. "Can I come closer?"

Orson blinked, the tears still streaming from his eyes as he looked around him.

"I'm just going to kneel beside you." Jared sank down a few feet from him.

Orson put his hands up, still lost in the dream and scared to have anyone close.

"It's okay. You're safe. There's no one here but you and me." Jared's voice was soft and gentle. "You hit your head when you fell. You're bleeding. Can I look at it?"

Orson shook his head. "Don't touch me. Get away."

Jared sat back, staying about a foot away. "I'm not going to get closer until you're ready."

Orson stared at him, his mind flashing between the safe place Jared offered and the visions of his dream that still tormented him. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Talk to me. Tell me about something you love."

Orson stared at him. "What?"

"Tell me something you love or something you want to do in the future that would make you happy."

Orson blinked. "I don't know."

"Do you want to travel anywhere? Like Tyler and Richard going to Paris? Where would you go?"

Orson just stared at him.

"Orson, are you awake?" Jared moved a couple of inches closer.

"No, don't." Orson shook his head, sliding back until his shoulders hit the wall.

"Okay, I won't, but I need you to wake up. I need to help you." Jared eased back. "I'm going to go grab you a bottle of water, okay?"

"No!" Orson gasped. "Don't leave me alone." His hand trembled as he lifted it up to the area right above his eye.

"That's where you're bleeding." Jared eased back down. "I need to see if you need stitches."

"I don't." Orson stared at him as he lowered his hand, wiping the blood off his fingers and onto his boxers.