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[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

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July 23rd; nightmares

[bywolves]

[ It's white, all around. Blindingly so. He's sitting in a room, on the floor, and in front of him - Gwen's there, her long, soft black hair draped over her shoulder. She smiles at him, and he brings up a hand to rest his hand on her cheek, but he can't touch her - she's just out of reach. Her smile turns into something sad, the way it always used to.

He just - he wants to touch her, but he can't, and he's frustrated, and -- there's blood. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, and slowly puddles on the white floor underneath them. Royce tries to stand, tries to crawl forward on his hands and knees, but he's stuck, and she just watches him, sad smile, blood dripping from the corners of her eyes, now, and --

In the Meadous, in the bed Royce and Alfie share, it's two in the morning and it's silent - until Royce makes a soft, blurry, frightened sound and twitches. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie doesn't wake up right away, but some part of him registers the sound. He frowns in his sleep, letting out a quiet murmur.]

[bywolves]

[ -- and she leans forward, crawling towards him, climbing into his lap and pressing a kiss to his cheek, leaving a bloodied mark behind. She whispers your light wasn't enough, smoothing his hair back, and when Royce looks, her dark skin is ashy, deathly - blood leaks from her slit throat, and Royce, horrified, tries to move away, but she's stuck to him, now.

You weren't enough, she murmurs, and she rests a hand against his throat, squeezing hard enough to take all the air out of his lungs --

Royce wakes with a sharp, wheezing gasp, scrambling to sit up and kick all of the blankets away from him. ]

[devoutish]

[And that wakes him up. Alfie starts, reaching out instinctively and landing a hand on Royce's shoulder.]

What? What is it, what--

[There's no one in the room; that's obvious in an instant. It doesn't take more than a second or two to realize that it was probably just a nightmare.]

[bywolves]

Stop -- stop. [ Royce wheezes, wrenching away from the hand on his shoulder. He kicks the blankets off him, thrashing a bit to try and get free, and rolls out of bed. He's out of the room in an instant, his panicked hyperventilating betraying his position in the house.

It was a bad one, tonight. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie follows, albeit a bit more slowly.]

Royce, Royce, Royce, it's me. Yeah? It's me.

[bywolves]

[ He catches Royce out in the living room, trying to catch his breath. He's leaning with his forehead pressed against the wall, his arm resting bent above his head, fingers digging into his hair a bit. His free hand rests against the wall, fingers curled. ]

I - know. [ Royce says, after a moment, eyes closed. ] I know.

[devoutish]

[Alfie pauses in the doorway.]

You had a dream.

[It's both a statement and a question - he doesn't think Royce needs to be told, but he doesn't really need it confirmed for himself, either. He just wants the truth of it to hang in the air.]

[bywolves]

Mm. [ Deep breath. Slow breath. ] Nightmare.

[ He trusts Alfie enough to just skip being evasive. ] Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up.

[devoutish]

Doesn't matter.

[Now he follows Royce in, trying the hand-on-shoulder thing again.]

Tell me about it?

[bywolves]

[ He's tense, but he allows it, now. His breathing is unsteady. ]

Gwen. [ Royce pointedly hides his face from Alfie once he's closer. ] It's always her, it doesn't change. Just worse, now.

[devoutish]

[Alfie sighs.]

I'm sorry, mate.

[bywolves]

It's fine. Go back to sleep. [ His hand digs into the wall, flexing and curling, relaxing, flexing, relaxing. ]

[devoutish]

I don't wanna leave you like this.

[bywolves]

[ Royce's shoulders hunch up around his ears. ]

I'm -- [ He pauses. His voice breaks just a little. ] I'll be fine. It. It was just vivid.

[devoutish]

Yeah.

[He gives his shoulder a squeeze.]

Come sit down, eh?

[bywolves]

[ Fine. Royce gestures vaguely towards the couch. You go first, Alfie. ]

[devoutish]

[He does, but he tries to tug Royce along with him.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce still refuses to look at him - it's probably because he's only just barely holding back tears, which he hates. He hates that this affects him so badly. But he goes where Alfie tugs him. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie sits next to him, close enough to lean.]

What was it I told you once? I don't judge you for having a voice that shakes sometimes?

[bywolves]

I know. [ I do not care if your voice shakes. He keeps looking away. ] I want to be past this. But I'm just now - feeling the weight of everything, and I can't --

[ Pause. Slow, steadying breath. ]

[devoutish]

I know, I know.

[He leans harder.]

Hasn't been long, has it.

[bywolves]

No. [ Royce sags a bit against Alfie. ] Only a few weeks. I keep - dreaming about killing her.

[devoutish]

[It's been longer than that - about two months, Alfie's pretty sure - but he doesn't correct him. When someone you love dies, eight weeks is just as too soon as three is.]

How often?

[bywolves]

Often. [ Royce mutters. ] Less, with the apathy. But that's coming back less and less. The poisoning.