"She ain't really doing good, Georgie," Danny said. George hated being called that, but Danny was probably doing it unintentionally, besides he has something more serious to say, so he just nodded and motioned for him to continue.
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Danny continued.
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"She seems weird at times. Not all of the time though, which is something. But she started saying weird things, talking about the town as if the town was a woman, then when I ask her about it immediately after, she would look at me curiously and say, "stop being silly", then leave smiling, sometimes shaking her head. Well, that's something I could actually laugh off since it ain't a big thing. But what I'm worried about?" He leaned towards George a bit, then, "It's her nightmares. She's been having them every single night, and she screams, shouts and says senseless things. Of course, I wake up, and then I shake her into waking. But she doesn't, she never did, she would just settle down and her breathing would stabilize, then go straight back to sleep. But I couldn't. I couldn't go back to sleep. I would just watch her all night, afraid that she might have the nightmare again, or whatever the fuck that is. Well, I don't really care much about not having enough sleep, but I'm worried about her. It's her nightmares, they're getting worse these past few days. Last night, she wasn't just screaming or shouting, she was thrashing around on the bed. I had to stand up to avoid getting socked on the jaw." With this, Danny smiled wanly.
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George knew this wasn't all there was to tell, but this was all Danny was willing to share. He was familiar with something like it, having a friend who was in Nam. PTSD, it was called. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. His friend was having nightmares before, too, but it was understandable since the war was a different world. He was now thinking that Julia Bianchi probably had something happen in her past, but he knew he was in no position to ask, and in no position to even investigate. He loved Julia just as how he loved Danny, being how he knew them back when they were children, still oblivious of each other despite living in the same town, he had known them when they met when Danny was 18 and Julia was 16, and he had watched them fall in love, stood as Danny's best man for their wedding, and gave advice when they find old and new things to fight about. But despite those long years, George had never seen Danny this disturbed, and he knew that things were more serious than how he saw them, or how Danny had made them seem to be because he was sure Danny had kept something from him. And maybe Julia also had, maybe something about her past. But this was all speculation because his knowledge was very, very limited and he was no doctor nor a shrink. PTSD was the only thing he had seen first hand, and the only solid thing he could think of as a source of consistent nightmares. Once, after sleeping in his veteran friend's house about a decade ago, he had seen an extreme attack of a night terror. His friend had thrashed around the bed, screaming and shouting things like "Get the fuck down!", "He's shot!" then "I'm fucking gonna die in this fucking shit hole." His veteran friend had even punched a hole through the wall, and the veteran didn't even wake up then, not yet. It took a full minute of George shouting his friend's name over and over and shaking him just to wake him up, and when his friend woke up, George knew they were both terrified. The next day and the three days following, he had nightmares of his own. He knew they weren't as bad, but consulted the veteran anyway. His friend suggested a drug that helped him-----
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"Nightmares, huh?", George said, with the approach of someone thinking of something he could do to help, but in reality, George already knew how he could help. He just couldn't remember the name of the drug. He put his fingers to his chin in deep thought, then tapped his head a few times. While this ritual went on for something like half a minute, Danny was nothing but statue staring at him. Then George's eyes lit up for a second and scrambled for the door to the storage room while saying something like "Hang on a second, kid. I think I got something."
With that, Danny Bianchi straightened up and his gaze followed George to the storeroom, his hands rested on top of the counter and his fingers tapped the countertop. When George came out, Danny's face was looking better a few notches than minutes ago, and George handed him something.
A smile tugged at the corner of George's mouth. "That's Trazodone. I had nightmares around a decade back, and a friend recommended this to me. Worked like magic. Just take it easy, I heard it has side effects, though I never experienced any. Just got rid of my nightmares. Like I said, shit worked like magic."
Danny looked at the pills he got and smiled. George could see water welling up the sides of his eyes, but before George could confirm, Danny turned around and wiped his palm across his face downwards, then said, "I hope this works. I owe you big time, Georgie. You're a real lifesaver." Danny said this without turning back around to look at him, and George thought he heard the young man's voice crack. He nodded, even though nobody would see him do it, and said, "Go and take care of your wife. You need anything more, I'm here. I'll do what I can. And don't ever call me Georgie, you ass wipe." With that, Danny turned his head halfway and grinned at him. He was about to reach the door when the sound boomed in their ears.
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