Chapter 17

“Put Mick on the phone!” she whimpered, pressing her back to the door as it rattled. “Something is wrong with Alyx,” she blurted out as soon as the other man grunted into the phone.

“Huh?”

Sam squeaked as the doorknob rattled and she felt the wood flex as he pushed against it from the other side. “He was huddled in his room moaning and muttering and when he saw me, he chased me!”

“Shit. Are you safe?”

Sam grunted, “I’m in my room, so as safe as I can be. What is going on?”

“Sit tight, stay in your room. We are on our way. If he gets in, try to calm him down by calling him Alexander. He’s got PTSD, and sometimes that snaps him out of it.”

Mick hung up before Sam could ask what the hell that meant, and she growled at the phone in frustration just as shuffling moved away from her door. She sighed, hoping that meant Alyx’s little episode of extra-crazy had passed, and worried it meant he was planning a bigger assault on her door. But instead a sobbing howl started, breaking her heart with how pained it sounded, despite the terror she had felt only moments earlier.

She resisted for maybe five minutes before she couldn’t stand it any longer. Very carefully, Sam turned on her knees, and cracked the door, peeking out. She couldn’t see him, but the wailing was coming from the kitchen.

“Alyx?”

The wailing sputtered, then stopped, the only sound a frantic panting as if he were trying to silence himself as he hyperventilated.

“I’m... I’m coming out, okay?”

A high-pitched whine, like an animal in pain, slowly grew as Sam cracked the door open and peeked out. She could see a blanket and a large barefoot in the kitchen, but that was about it. With a deep breath for bravery, she crept out and around the furniture until she could see him fully.

Alyx was curled, half leaned against the cabinets, with a blanket wrapped over his shoulders. His eyes were wide and glassy, dazed and darting around the room, and his hair was a wild nest on his head. He looked wrecked.

“Alyx?”

His eyes darted to her and his body stiffened, as if he was afraid of her, expression twisting from fear to fight. Sam held up her hands as if to show him everything was okay and tried the name Mick had told her. “Alexander?”

He startled, which made Sam flinch, but then his eyes softened and he saw her for the first time, the fearful fog lifting from his eyes and his face relaxing as if he had just woken from a nightmare, looking around, confused by his surroundings. “Sam?”

She nodded, creeping closer until she could touch his shoulder. “Alyx, what… what happened?” The moment she touched him, he slumped towards her and she caught him against her chest, holding him with uncertainty.

“Just… Just a nightmare.” His breath huffed against her nightshirt and his voice was slurring as if he were falling asleep, and he was getting heavier by the moment as his body put more weight on her.

After a few moments, he was fully asleep, and Sam was pinned with her neck at a painful angle. She wiggled and squirmed until she was at least flat on the floor, but she was unable to get away, as every time she moved, Alyx tightened his arms around her and put more of his weight on her, until she was trapped under him on the kitchen linoleum.

She stayed trapped until Mick and Paxton whipped the door open about twenty minutes later, and then they stood staring in shock at the image before them. Mick, quick to adapt, laughed, “Well, looks like you have this under control…” And dusted his hands, pretending to walk out, only for Paxton to grab him and Sam to holler at him to freeze. None of which seemed to wake the sleeping giant cuddling her like a teddy bear.

Mick chuckled like he was the funniest man in the world, and between the three of them they managed to rouse Alyx enough to help him to bed, one man under each arm and Sam guiding the way.

Then Mick sat her down in the living room, and told her as much as he could, what with not being there for parts of it and other parts still considered classified by the government, about Alyx’s Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The only reason they hadn’t warned Paxton and Sam about it was because he hadn’t had an incident in over a year, but the move must have triggered one.

“Why did calling him ‘Alexander’ calm him down?”

Mick winced, then spoke again. “Because that’s his name. His real name.”

“Because of his skills, over the radio he got the call sign ‘Kill All, Alexander’ but it morphed. Between the non-English speakers catching it on the radio and static and a bunch of other stuff… It became Alyx Collins.” Mick shook his head. “There was a guy, not a great influence on Alexander, and he convinced him to embrace it. So much so that he legally changed his name.”

“And now… Well, now he’s away from all that, the name Alyx still has a lot attached to it. Something happened while he was Alyx. But the name ‘Alexander’ is clean. So when he gets real bad like this, that helps. It shakes him out of it.”

Paxton and Mick stayed a bit longer and then headed for the door. Mick stopped and gave Sam a long look. “He… He likes you, so-” Rubbing his hand through his hair, he sighed, “just go easy on him in the morning? He’s already going to be a little out of it because of the whole thing.

Sam blinked in shock. “What do you mean ‘ he likes me’?”

The dark-haired man only winced and then shrugged, saying, “Don’t tell him I told you,” before disappearing down the hall with his boyfriend.