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He’d been careful to control his feelings for her, knowing that he’d lose her if he ever made a move, but he’d never considered her mortality. Seeing where the tree fell snapped something inside him, and when she’d talked about how importantworkwas… he never knew emotion could be so intense, especially when he was at a loss for what emotion it was coursing through him. Freddy wanted to shake her and tell her work was the least important part of her life and explain that every time he laughed and smiled and joked it was easier because she was there. All he had to do was look at her, and she knew the difference between his performance and his true self.
Freddy expected to have nightmares about driving around that bend and seeing her house. If she slept in his spare room, he could go check on her, not to be creepy, but to reassure himself she was still there. It was selfish, but that didn’t change what he needed.
Sabrina was the one woken up by the storm, almost crushed to death, and lost everything. Freddy knew his demand wasn’t fair, but it was the smartest solution. If it allowed him to sleep at night too, well, that was just a bonus. HQ wouldn’t be as comfortable as his home. And even if it were, Freddy wasn’t strong enough to drive her up to his brother’s home and drop her off like an inconvenient passenger.
Loading his car only took a minute with both of them carrying stuff, though Sabrina’s computers alone required three separate trips between her house and the car. Not only did she have twodesktops, one for each of them, but she had two monitors for each desktop. Then she had her work laptop and her personal laptop. Freddy hadn’t noticed just how many electronics she had, but when he stopped and did a mental inventory of his own set-up… well, he’d never own as many computers as Sabrina, but he came scarily close.
As he checked that everything was safely stowed, Sabrina ran back in for her keys. She returned empty-handed, dragging her feet, and looking as lost as she had earlier.
“What’s wrong?” Freddy asked.
“I always put my keys in the bowl on top of my microwave,” she said flatly, and Freddy understood immediately. Her keys had gone the way of her phone, and he already knew she didn’t have a spare. He’d been threatening to order one for her, but she knew how expensive they were and insisted she’d tell Greg to withhold double the amount from her paycheck to reimburse him.
“Hop in. We’ll add new car keys to our list for later.”
She opened the passenger door gently, sat down inside, and buckled her seatbelt without saying another word.
Freddy let the silence keep them company the entire drive to his place, but instead of parking in his driveway, like usual, he hit the remote to the garage door, relieved to see the power was back on, and pulled inside.
That was when Sabrina finally spoke. “I was doing so well until you showed up,” she said softly. “I dug out my camp gear for coffee, accepted the loss of the last of my Lamb Chopper cheese, and was planning my day, doing what needed to be done. Once you arrived, it all just hit me.” She turned in her seat to face him. “What am I going to do, Freddy?”
“Sleep,” he answered. “We’re both going to sleep.”
“What about–”
He cut her off with a shake of her head. “Gabe came home after one of his more intense trainings shortly after he moved into special forces. Mom was worried about what would happen on some of the missions we all knew he’d be sent on. I think this was right after Seal Team Six took down Bin Laden. Anyway, Gabe explained that he trains until there’s very little thinking or decision-making required once he’s deep into action, because sleep deprivation impacts our ability to process and logic through situations.”
“Are you suggesting we start training for falling tree scenarios?” Sabrina asked with one side of her mouth quirked up in an almost smile.
“No,” Freddy smiled back at her with his real smile, the one that wasn’t too bright and shiny, but came from his core. “I’m suggesting that we set it all aside long enough to rest. It won’t bring back your home or your stuff, but it will be easier to prioritize and sort through what we need to do.” He didn’t wait for her to respond before getting out of the car and heading inside.
“You keep sayingwe,“ she said from behind him. “None of this is your problem, Freddy.”
Sleep was the right idea. Freddy was way too fucking tired for this conversation. Instead of arguing or trying to explain, he led her down the hall to his spare room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m sure Mom stashed fresh towels in obvious places. We’ll unload the car later. I’m going to faceplant on my bed. Wake me if you need anything.” Once he was better rested, he’d be able to find the words to explain that she would always have him to lean on.
She sighed, but didn’t argue before toeing out of her shoes and crossing the room toward the bed. He was about to pull the door closed behind himself when she called his name. “Freddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Any chance you have a spare shirt or something I can borrow? I need to shower.”
He noticed a twig sticking out of her hair and silently thanked fate for keeping her alive. “Give me just a second.”
“I’ll pick up new clothes when I run into town later, so I’ll return it quickly.”
“‘Rina, I don’t give a fuck when you return them or even if,” he called over his shoulder while digging through his drawers. “Don’t you need to wait for insurance to cut you a check?” he asked absent-mindedly.
“No. I mean, yes for big stuff, but I have some savings. It’ll be enough to cover the basics.”
Too tired to argue with her about accepting help in any form, including financial, Freddy pulled out his favorite Scooby Doo vintage tee and a pair of plaid cotton sleep pants for her. Folding them so it wouldn’t be too obvious which shirt he’d included, he handed her the bundle and told her to enjoy the shower and sleep well.
Chapter 8: Sabrina
It might be painful to admit, but Freddy was right. Even the shower was enough to make Sabrina feel more human again. She’d been reveling in the clean steam and fresh scent of her skin as she dried off and dressed when she noticed which t-shirt Freddy had given her.
Worn thin in places and faded to a light olive green, the soft cotton was his favorite. Around other people, he’d howl, “Scooby, dooby, doo,” like an idiot. When it was just the two of them, he’d pointed out the way Shaggy had one hand on Velma’s shoulder and the other around Scooby’s neck as they all facedthe danger together. None of the rest of the gang offered each other comfort like that, but Shaggy did–even though he was the most scared of all.
The sleep pants were tight around her hips and obviously designed for a man, but they were just as soft as the t-shirt. Together, they felt like the hug Sabrina desperately needed but would never dare to ask for. It was enough for her to crawl under the covers and escape into oblivion.
