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Summary
Sweat trickled down his smooth skin, his chest rising and falling sharply as he brought his trembling hand to his chest, clutching the fabric around him to calm the pounding heart. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, or pretend it hadn't happened, the same nightmare repeated itself over and over. He always woke up when Poseidon sank his raft and everything went blurry.
What was his mind trying to hide from that encounter? Was this punishment for his reckless actions? Did he have to keep paying even after all he had lost? Wasn't Poseidon satisfied? It wasn't his intention to hurt his son! Nor to mock him... he only wanted to survive... to return... to Ithaca... to Telemachus... to Penelope...
— Odysseus! — His wife's worried voice pulled him from his thoughts. His muscles, rigid with fear that coursed through every fiber of his being, suddenly relaxed, and he collapsed onto the wool bed beneath them. He exhaled shakily as the woman beside him drew near to embrace him, reminding him that he was no longer adrift in the ocean for years; now he was in Ithaca, in his home with the family who had waited so long for him.