Thread by @theswandrowned

#soapghost - part seven

Simon found himself thrashing back and forth in his bed that night. Throwing the sheets off of himself before pulling them back on. Lying on his back. On his stomach. On his side.

But nothing was working.

Across the room, Annabelle was fast asleep

https://twitter.com/theswandrowned/status/1665304945183309824

in her bed, not fazed by her fathers restlessness.

The firefighter grumbled for a moment, contemplating his options as he laid there, staring at the ceiling.

He didn’t know what it was.

Usually he was exhausted after a 24 hour shift.

But he just couldn’t get to sleep.

“Fucking hell.” He grumbled, resting his arm across his eyes.

He had hoped to just lie there for a few more minutes before he pulled himself out of bed and got some house work done.

But by some miracle, he actually managed to drift off to sleep after that.

Maybe his body just really didn’t want to do chores.

However his sleep was going to be anything but restful.

It rarely ever was.

The firefighter was barely asleep for twenty minutes before his mind started to eat at him again.

“Baby, wake up.”

Brown eyes fluttered open and Simon found himself where he always did in his dreams… his past.

“Good, you’re awake. We have to paint the nursery!”

The woman’s voice echoed around his head and their old apartment, sending shooting pain through his head.

“The nursery?”

Simon asked, looking up at the woman standing in front of him.

Anastasia was just how he remembered her, beautiful and full of life. It hurt him so badly, but his brain would just not let him forget her.

“Yeah, you said we would paint the nursery today.” The woman grinned,

her hands resting on her belly. “Do you want our little ladybug to come into this world with an unfinished room?”

“Of course I don’t.” Simon replied, stretching his arms over his head. “But it’s so early.”

“Early? It’s nearly lunch time.” Anastasia laughed, climbing back

onto the bed next to him. “I told you that you need to take a break so we can get ready for her.” She continued, taking his hand and resting it on her belly. “Little Ladybug agrees.”

“I’m a firefighter, Ana. I can’t just take a break.” Simon said, trying to stay serious, but he

couldn’t help but smile when he felt his little girl kick. “But what kind of dad would I be if I let her room go unfinished?”

“Yeah. What kind of dad would you be?”

Simon felt his heart drop as the dream began to distort around him, her voice getting louder in his ears.

“No, no not again-“ He begged. He didn’t know who he was pleading with, but he didn’t care, the words were just spilling out of his mouth. “No, please-“

His ears began to ring as he very quickly became disoriented, feeling the woman dissolve beneath his fingertips.

He did everything he could to try and hold on to the memory but it was no use. Sooner or later all he was surrounded with was darkness.

“Did you really think this would work, Simon?” Anastasia’s voice echoed in his head.

“Ana, please.”

“You’re just as bad as your father.”

“No, no I’m not-“

“I could never raise a child with you. You knew this when we got married.”

“Please-“

“It’s your fault she doesn’t have a mother.”

“Stop it! Stop it, please!”

Simon staggered around in the darkness, trying his best to pull himself out of the dream but he

just couldn’t do it.

He was trapped.

He couldn’t move.

However, just as he felt himself begin to panic, another voice reached his ears.

“Dad? Dad wake up!”

Simon awoke with a gasp, his chest rising and falling heavily as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Annabelle had

climbed up on the bed next to him, looking at her father worriedly.

“It’s okay.” Were the first words that left Simons lips. “I’m okay. I’m okay baby.” He whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. “It was just a bad dream.”

The little girl sniffled quietly, hugging her dad

back as tightly as she could.

“I love you, dad.” The fiver year old whispered quietly.

Simon swallowed the lump in his throat, holding her as close as he could.

“I love you too, Bellie.”

Simon couldn’t sleep after that, but he laid as still as a rock until Annabelle

had drifted back off to sleep.

Only then did he move, sliding out of the bed and wandering over to the door that lead out onto the balcony.

He moved through the apartment as quietly as he could, shutting the door softly as he stepped into the could night.

“Fucking hell.”

He muttered again, pulling a cigarette out of the pocket of his hoodie. One that had probably been in there for weeks now, but a cigarette was a cigarette.

Just as he flicked the lighter on to light it, another voice reached his ears.

“Hey, that’s bad for you, you know?”

Simon sighed, turning his head ever so slightly to see Mr. Soap standing on his own balcony.

“Cant sleep either?” Simon asked, taking a puff of the cigarette.

“Nah.” Johnny grinned, leaning on the fence of his balcony. “Haven’t been to sleep yet.” He said, before humming

thoughtfully. “Having trouble sleeping?”

“You could say that.” Simon chuckled lightheartedly, staring off into the night.

He hated the way the heavy feeling on his shoulders already felt lighter.

There was no way this man was anything other than a neighbour to him.

But part of Simon wanted it.

It had been so long since he had experienced that kind of light in his life.

But Annabelle…

Simon heaved a sigh, shooting Johnny another look.

“You coming to the firehouse this week? Price said he invited you.”

“U-uh yeah. If that’s okay with

you, of course.” Johnny stammered.

“Bellie would kill me if I said no.” Simon smiled gently, putting his cigarette out on the railing. “I guess I’ll see you there then.”

“Do I need to bring anything? Like a gift or something.”

“Nah.” Simon hummed as he walked back over

to the door that lead into his apartment, shooting Johnny one last rather mischievous look. “Just yourself.”

Simon then went inside, not waiting for the other man to reply to him.

He went back inside, lying back down on the bed next to his daughter.

His mood was much better now, and he couldn’t believe it but he was staring up at the ceiling, smiling.

The firefighter just rolled his eyes, turning to look at the little girl.

“Stupid Mr. Soap.” He whispered.

—

GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET 🥺