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In the early morning hours, a delivery truck rumbled noisily by on the street above. It was just audible on the store’s lower level, an open space where muted light shone through a window from the alley behind. Into this almost complete darkness, came the sound of a muffled scream and a figure with a head of blonde curls sat bolt upright. Where was she? What was happening? Her mind raced, remembering the nightmare’s images and sounds, blood covering her and the crack of a second shot. Her body mirrored her mental pace, eyes flitting from place to place, unfocused, as she turned this way and that, trying to find any clue to her location.
She hadn’t yet noticed the smaller figure slightly separated from her that had sat up within seconds of her movement. The figure sat quietly, not physically interfering as the panicked movements slowly calmed. Along with elevated breathing another sound was present, a soft voice repeating quietly, “Delphine, I’m here. It’s OK.” The tense woman finally turned toward the sound and her eyes focused, taking in the figure who sat, forearms extended with hands palm up toward her trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Hey, are you back with me?” Cosima asked.
This had become part of a regular routine. Through subterfuge, influence, and leverage, Delphine had arrived back in the city several days ago. The sisters and their allies had for once closed protectively around both Cosima and Delphine, and Cosima brought her to her makeshift lab and home, hoping they could heal in the many ways needed. And most nights, the clinging, suffocating dreams and nightmares had Delphine waking up in distress. It was as if the slight relaxation Delphine may have felt with her freedom was triggering the processing of memories and experiences she had kept trapped deep inside herself during those dangerous months.
She hadn’t really talked about what had happened to her, not about the time as director at DYAD, not about the months she had been on the island alone, not about her and Cosima’s most recent separation. Even during the time they had been in the camp together, she had mostly put Cosima’s questions off, stating that they needed to concentrate on the present and future, the cure and getting off the island. During the few times that she gave any details, her face was pained and Cosima relented. Upon her return, Delphine had found her way to Mrs. S, and had briefed Siobhan, Art, and Sarah, giving them vital information. Afterwards, while Delphine had stepped outside to clear her head and Art had protectively shadowed her, Siobhan had made tea for herself and Cosima. She imparted some advice as well. “She didn’t tell us about much of what she went through, Cosima. It was clear how difficult it was for her to focus on any of it. Give her time and understanding. Those are things she’ll need to work through it.”
Cosima hadn’t really thought about all they might need to come to terms with when she had imagined them reuniting. She had only thought about how happy it would make her, and she realized that had been naïve. She had adjusted though, trying to give Delphine the space she needed and communicating rather than assuming on matters like where did she want to stay, who did she want to see, what was OK to talk about, where did she want to sleep – each day trying to build more security for the woman she loved. Whenever Cosima felt exhaustion building, whenever she grew angry over what had been wreaked upon Delphine physically and mentally - on the days when those feelings grew too strong, she worked, she meditated, she read, she brought herself back to a stable place, conscious of how many nights and days, without visible blame or anger, Delphine had been there for her, being an anchor and comfort through coughing bouts, blood, and fear. Cosima, with the experimental therapy strengthening her body, was reciprocating now.
Throughout these nights, she had worked on approaches that would help Delphine with the physical and emotional stress, figuring out with her what responses soothed and what responses provoked. Now that she had Delphine’s attention, she slowly extended her right hand. Hazel eyes tracked the movement until her palm gently laid against Delphine’s left upper arm, covered by one of Cosima’s longer shirts. She waited, and when she felt a head lower to rest on her right shoulder, she moved her right hand up and over Delphine’s shoulder as her other arm went around Delphine’s waist and pulled her carefully to her. Faint whimpers interspersed with shushing noises and the sound of a hand running over cotton as Cosima made small circles on her lover’s back. After a few minutes, when her breathing had calmed, Delphine pulled away, though their hands locked together.
“Do you want to talk about it? “ came Cosima’s gentle inquiry.
“Not really,” Delphine’s voice was strained. “It was about the shooting. The worst part was the feeling – I was alone and completely helpless in that moment. I’ve had dreams about it before - I know it’s not real. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Cosima’s head dipped for just a second when Delphine turned down the option, and then she pulled herself into action mode. She wanted to blanket the other woman, wrap her into a safe cocoon, even if it was a nonverbal one, to help her through this feeling and this night. Her size frustrated her in that particular desire but then she had an idea for reinforcements.
Letting go and getting up from the bed – “I’ll be right back” - she moved quickly to the couch and chair and grabbed throw pillows and blankets. She came back to the bed where Delphine was looking at her with a furrowed brow. “Move forward a little,” she requested with a gesture. When the headboard area was clear, she crawled onto the bed and placed all of the pillows into a nest. Turning, she coaxed Delphine in with her, keeping their legs under the comforter. After wrapping two blankets around their somewhat upright upper bodies she was satisfied that she had her covered on all sides. Delphine smiled and thanked her, then nestled into her chest.
Cosima looked down at her wanting to somehow layer peace into Delphine’s sleep like she’d layered the bed with warmth. Maybe, just maybe, familiarity and humor would work. “Did I tell you about the time Scott - not me, you know, because I was an innocent bystander - almost burned down this lab?” Delphine snorted, actually snorted at her, as she shook her head. Cosima’s tone was just slightly indignant,“ OK, I’m going to ignore whatever that noise was. I didn’t think I’d told you. This one is truly a classic.”
She launched into the narrative, somehow maintaining a tone that both engaged and soothed as she recounted the ridiculous (or reckless) activities on that day of discovery and near demolition. She saw the ghost of a smile cross Delphine’s face a few times, but more importantly, she felt Delphine melting into her body the closer they came to the cataclysm being averted at the last minute. She wrapped up the story with a voice that harbored laughter, “The moral of the story, according to Sarah – and you may find this ironic - is that Scott and Cosima should not be left unsupervised.” With her concluding words, she noticed her bed partner didn’t move; there wasn’t even a trace of a smile on her face, but there were signs of true relaxation. Cosima had achieved at least that much with the story.
Cosima bent down to Delphine’s’ ear, and with all the tenderness she felt whispered, “So that means you have to stay with us from now on, for responsible oversight, you know. We’ll get the answers and no one will be alone.” With a kiss on Delphine’s forehead she relaxed back into the pillows, grateful to have these moments of Delphine in her arms exist again.