Til the sandman comes

Occurring two days after the events of {SE} Fear is the mind-killer

He hadn't wanted to talk about it at first. Even the thought of trying to put it into words made his throat clench so hard he couldn't swallow. They had finished the night on the Sea of Dreams and, with the dawn bringing light and heat and life to the world once more, Tal had lifted the Peregrine back into the sky so they could continue their journey.

Over the Suvahasi and its poisonous plants, over the ocean and the islands of increasingly lush trees, until they passed above the crowns of giants, a riot of pale green and new growth in the Flowerbirth warmth. It was the middle of the night when they made dock at the Village and Tal was dead on his feet. He'd secured the skyboat and stumbled back into the little cabin they shared, passing out in his hammock without even taking his boots off.

His sleep was blessedly dreamless, and when he woke again it was to Boreal licking his face with her usual helpful cheer and reminder that he needed a bath, a breakfast, and a friend, in roughly that order.

The Village had enough amenities for the first two, thankfully, and the third had come with him this far already. After a pleasant time spent exploring the Village, Tal recommended they get a room at a guest-house for the night and spend some time sleeping in real beds.

And away from the ship where the nightmares had found them.

The place they found was a cozy little treehouse with two small bedrooms and a shared communal space that served for food and sitting together. The remains of the carry-home dinner they'd gotten had been tidied away and cups of tea had been poured. Though it was time for bed, Tal lingered on the couch that was meant for someone much shorter then him, fingers alternately tightening and relaxing on his cup as he stared into the steam, expression gradually growing tight and strained once more.

Alys

Alys hadn't expected to like the cozy little treehouse as much as she did, but here she was, admiring the woodwork in the kitchen as she cleaned up after their carry-home dinner. She could get used to this, she decided, even if it meant frequent travel. She and Tal fit rather nicely together and had enjoyed their trip 'round the world so far, she thought, except for...

Her hands stilled on the cup she'd been washing in the sink. They still hadn't talked about the nightmare flowers. She'd sent a missive back to Halo to warn Deimos, but Tal had been remarkably quiet ever since their adventure on the Sea of Dreams. She couldn't blame him. She hadn't slept well since that night, either, constantly replaying her nightmares in her mind every time she closed her eyes.

Alys poured herself a new cup of tea and made her way back to Tal, sitting carefully beside him on the too-small couch, not minding the way that it bent and warped to bring their shoulders into gentle contact. "Hey," she said, resting a hand on his arm gently, as though to not startle him from his thoughts. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alys

As Alys settled beside him and her shoulder made a spot of warmth against his, Tal finally exhaled a breath he'd been holding for far too long, as if her presence had unlocked it. A shiver trembled along his arm beneath her hand, invisible except for the way the fine dark hairs stood up, but it was her voice that finally drew his eyes back into the present so that he blinked and looked...

Not at her. Not directly. But down into his lap as he hesitated. Teeth caught his lower lip, chewing the tender skin in a lifelong bad habit. The instinctive no never even made it past his throat, swallowed down before he could voice it. Alys was his friend - pretty much his best friend, alongside Hotaru - and she deserved better than a stubborn lie.

"I... I dunno," he finally admitted, the words pulled from his lips with reluctance at first, but growing easier with each one. "It wasn't... it wasn't real. But it felt so real at the time, y'know?" He shook his head, almost spilling his tea at the strength of the motion. "Shit, sorry, I should've asked sooner. What about you?"

In another place and time, perhaps Alys would debate the concept of reality and what made something real or not real. But this was hardly the time and place. They were all shaken by what had transpired on the Sea of Dreams. It had seemed like such an idyllic place, right up until they were all sucked under into a nightmare realm that they'd needed an actual god to get them out of.

She still wasn't sure what to make of that, by the way.

Alys leaned back against the couch with a soft huff, staring at the ceiling. "I'm... fine," she said slowly. "Physically, we're fine. We escaped. I know it shouldn't bother me now, but..." She shuddered. Every time she closed her eyes she saw blood. "It felt more real than a normal nightmare."

Alys

Physically they were fine. Tal managed a half-hearted snort of agreement that sent ripples across the surface of his tea. Being rescued by gods was something that seemed to happen to him several times a year these days - unthinkable in his younger years - so that part felt almost normal.

No, it was the rest of it. The darkness, the fear, the memory of helplessness that writhed painfully in his heart, like a worm in an apple.

He felt her shudder against him and Tal leaned a little harder against her shoulder, offering his own warmth and strength even as he found comfort in her presence at his side. If Alys hadn't been there, if it had been just him and Boreal, what would have happened...?

Thoughts he tried to shake away, squeezing his eyes closed and then exhaling sharply over his teacup. "Yeah. Know what y'mean. I've had nightmares b'fore, but none like... like that." It was his turn to shiver. "Like somethin' with claws went diggin' around in my brain an' found what I was most afraid of, specifically. An' then dragged me through it. An' I saw... I thought you an' Boreal were--" He bit the words off, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a swallow of too-hot tea to avoid speaking into existence what he never wanted to experience again.

At Tal's sharp exhale, Alys leaned her head on his shoulder, hoping to give some of the warm support she felt from her friend, even if she could tell that he was still shaken by what had happened. Gods, she was still shaken by what had happened. It was frustrating and terrifying in equal measure. She had thought she had a good grip on what was reality and what was fiction, but perhaps she was beginning to get them confused.

"Mine, too," she whispered in agreement, gripping her teacup tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. "I saw Sascha... and then you -" She swallowed hard. "Death has never been scary for me, before now, but after that - watching those I love die right in front of me - I don't know." She took a sip of her tea, inhaling sharply as she burned the roof of her mouth. At least that was real, and she focused on that sensation, even if it hurt, to guard against the panic that overtook her at the thought of what might have happened on the Sea of Dreams, had they been alone, had the god not answered the call, had anything been different... Would they still be here, if even one of them had been absent? What if Tal hadn't thought to call on Frey?

Alys

Tal bit down on the lip between his teeth almost hard enough to draw blood, grounding himself with the pain. Then he shifted, gently disengaging his should from Alys's head. "Sorry, lemme just--" He let go of his cup with one hand in order to slip it behind his friend's shoulders, pulling her close against his side, a little ashamed that he needed the physical reassurance that she was there and whole and physically unhurt, but not so much that he let it keep him from the comfort the extra contact could give.

And then he shut up and listened, as much to what she didn't say as to what she did. It was his turn to swallow hard, teacup trembling slightly in his other hand as the word death dropped into the conversation, a rock through thin ice. "Yeah," he whispered. "You an' Boreal. Sascha, too. Caught in th'roots an' vines under th'water. Drownin' or drowned. An' I couldn't save you. I was caught, same as you, an' I couldn't stop it. It was like watchin' that poor Attuned woman die in th'Oerwoud, but it was you, and I--" He bit down on the tip of his own tongue as the flood gates opened and then, just as abruptly, closed again. Instead his arm tightened around her shoulder and he took a convulsive swallow of his own tea, heedless of the heat or pain that followed, so long as it distracted him from the memory.

Alys sat quietly as Tal adjusted, shifting so that he could wrap an arm around her and tug her against his side. It was calming, the physical closeness - reassuring and grounding in a way that she was grateful for when considering the chill that she couldn't quite shake from the nightmare. If she had known what Tal was thinking, what he was feeling, she would have shooed away any thought of shame. There was nothing wrong with wanting a little reassurance after a traumatic event, after all.

As it was, she leaned companionably into his hold, shaky but content nonetheless to be the strength that Tal needed at the moment. She listened to his story and nodded. "I couldn't reach you to save you, either," she murmured. "All I could do was watch -" And her voice broke. She took a shaky breath. "But it wasn't real," she said fiercely, reaching up to lace her fingers with his when he tugged her tighter to his side. "We're here. We're alive."

Alys

Tal was just quietly glad when Alys didn't pull away, allowing him to feel her warmth and weight against him, alive and well, even if she was no less traumatized than he was. He wasn't alone in his fears, or in the lingering power they still held over him, and for now it was enough to have a friend at his side who understood what he was going through.

Because she had been through the same thing, or at least something very similar.

Her voice broke and so did his heart to hear it. He squeezed her shoulder, wishing he could offer something more than just his presence. And when she reached up he opened his fingers, welcoming hers and the extra point of contact between them as he nodded at her fierce reassurance. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. An' we're gonna stay that way," he promised, hoping they had the strength to follow through on it.

He swallowed hard, morbid curiosity twisting the lingering fear in his stomach with agile claws, and finally gave up on his tea, setting it down on the low table in front of them. "...Y'don't have t'answer now or... ever, really, if y'don't want to," he began, with his usual awkward hesitancy. "But if it'd help t'get it out... was it... did y'see th'flowers drownin' me, too?"

It was strange that their nightmares held them captive even now, even through the light of day and into another night. Alys was accustomed to dreams, both good and bad, and often tried to puzzle through their meanings. But this was different. Never before had she been overtaken by a nightmare while she was wide awake. What did it mean?

Her fingers squeezed against Tal's. They were alive. They were going to stay that way. She resisted the urge to reach for her cards. She'd read them once already since their experience on the Sea of Dreams, and they had... not been helpful. Their answers were vague and fuzzy, and she'd felt uneasy ever since.

"No," she said softly. "It was a hunter, I think, except they didn't have a face, but they were hunting you all down. Sascha, you -" She remembered the way that blood had spurted from their wounds and shuddered. "And I was just - paralyzed. I couldn't do anything, but I couldn't look away. Normally I can wake myself up from a nightmare, but this - something's wrong out there, Tal. I've never seen anything take control of someone the way those flowers did us."

Alys

The pressure on his fingers was as welcome as the warmth against his side, living and solid and real. Both were charms against the memories they were facing together, of nightmares that had, in the moment, felt far too convincing. Even now, knowing they were only illusions, the fear of what they'd each seen remained.

The manner of the deaths had been different, but the similarities were enough to send a shiver down Tal's spine even as he awkwardly squeezed Alys's shoulder tighter for a moment. "No," he agreed, voice rough and quiet as Alys put into words part of what was bothering him so much. "An' it wasn't just any nightmare they put us through. It was like... like they pulled out the worst thing. The thing we're most afraid of." He started to turn his head to look at her and then hesitated, ducking it instead to clear his throat. "Can't figure out if I'm surprised or not. That we're afraid o'th'same thing," he admitted. "Give or take th'drownin' part. But I don't ever want t'feel that helpless again. Not when you an' Boreal need me."

Alys stared into her teacup. It was warm against her fingers, but any heat from the cup seemed to dissipate into nothing. She hadn't been able to get warm ever since their unwelcome adventure. It was like their fear had been melded into her bones, the chill a bone-deep thing that she just couldn't shake. She'd seen illusions. She controlled illusions.

Those plants hadn't given them an illusion. They'd given them a promise.

Alys shivered again, setting down her teacup before it could rattle in her hands. She looked up at Tal, so close and so warm and so alive, and leaned into him all the harder, as though physical closeness could reassure her. Clearly her eyes could be tricked. But maybe the rest of her couldn't be - not when they were pressed so tightly together that she could have sworn she felt his heart beat.

"Then we prepare," she said softly. "As best we can. I don't want to be helpless, either. And I don't want to live in fear."

Alys

He couldn't hold her any closer than he already was, not in their current position on the couch. He felt her shiver against him, though, and wished he could. If he had wings like Boreal's he could wrap them around them both and shut out the nightmares and the world beyond for awhile. If he had magic like Ru or Sah he could build a shield of ice or wind or fire to keep their fears at bay.

But all he had was his arms and his own stuttering heat beat, no less anxious and afraid than Alys's, and though he tried his best neither were enough to chase away the lingering trauma they had both endured.

He should have known that, of the two of them, Alys would be the one strong enough to find hope in the darkness. Tal swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, turning his head to bury his face in her hair and nodding. His cheek rubbed against her hair and he had to fight the urge to sneeze as his nose was tickled by fluffy strands. "Me neither. So we'll work t'get stronger'n any nightmare. Together," he promised, voice rough and still holding an edge of trembling, but nevertheless gruffly determined to forge a brighter future for them both.

~fin~