honest_johns | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's the wee hours of the morning. There are people still awake in the bar -- there are always people awake in the bar -- but in Alain's room everything is dark and silent, but for slow steady breathing. Two sleepers' breathing, tonight.

He lies in a tangle of sheets, one arm outflung. The other is wrapped around Lilly, who's curled around him with her chin tucked into his shoulder.

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Lilly's dreaming. It's an old dream, but this time... it's different.

She's lying on the ground, broken and bleeding, the smell of chlorine in her nose and near-unbearable pain in her head. It's dark and cold, and her mother is walking away and... Veronica's crying. She's a ghost, again, wandering Neptune but this time there are no doors. Nothing leads her to Milliways, and the years start to pass as they do in dreams and Lilly is still a ghost and she's trapped and she can never leave...

Just a dream, Lilly tries to tell herself, tossing restlessly in her sleep. It's just a dream, you can wake up, it'll be over because it's not real... but it is real. Somewhere, it's real and Lilly suddenly thinks that maybe... maybe it's real here.

He's awake, suddenly, blinking in the dark and unsure of what woke him. Keeping still, his breathing still slow, as he waits to figure it out; training holds.

Lilly mumbles something incoherent, and twitches a little, and then mutters again and rolls away from him restlessly, and he knows.

He rolls onto his side, frowning, and reaches out to run a soothing hand down her arm.

It's not quite a conscious memory but Lilly's not quite conscious...

Clarence's hand slides down her arm, checking the stiffness of her limbs. He shakes his head. It's no good, she's still warm. She's still *alive,* but he doesn't feel her pulse. Doesn't or won't.

Lilly jerks away from Alain's hand, mumbling incoherently. If you have good ears, you might be able to pick out the word "no." Possibly even the word "ice."

His hand freezes, as she jerks away.

A good deal more worried now, His voice is very low, and rough with sleep.

She turns again, still restless, her forehead wrinkling in her sleep.

"cold..."

One hand lifts to brush clumsily against her forehead, pushing her hair blood off her face.

A little louder, "Lilly."

He's wary of touching her until she's more awake, now.

"Lilly, wake up."

Lilly gasps, her eyes flying open. She looks straight at Alain, but for the moment there is no recognition in her eyes.

"what? who're..."

She trails off, blinking disorientedly.

His forehead is creased with concern.

"Wake up, Lilly. It's all right. Just me."

Lilly's breathing fast from the nightmare still, but her face relaxes just a bit at Alain's words.

"Alain?"

Some of the tension seeps out of her shoulders.

"I woke you up, I'm sorry..."

A small headshake.

Worried and reassuring in equal measure.

He ventures to touch her, now, moving slowly to cup her face with his hand.

Lilly nods once, reaching up to curl her fingers around his wrist.

"I'm okay...

Her voice is still soft and uncertain, though, and her body is still tense.

His hand is warm and steady.

Lilly just nods again, doesn't say anything for a moment. She's had nightmares before. They're not usually this disturbingly real. And she's never before gotten the sense that somewhere, somehow, the dream is still going... and she's still in it.

"I'm really okay. It was just a bad dream."

It's still there, that nagging feeling that somehow the dream is continuing. Lilly tries to ignore it, to focus on the warmth of Alain's hand but it's still there like an echo in the back of her mind.

She frowns.

The moon is bright, and Alain has good eyes. And he can feel the faint tension in her forehead, against his fingers.

His frown grows as hers does, but his is worried.

He doesn't know her sleeping habits well enough yet; doesn't know if she wants cuddling or talk, to go back to sleep or to wake up for a while.

After a little while of her inward-looking frown, he tries anyway. Slides his hand down her cheek to wrap around her shoulders and pull her very gently towards him.

Lilly lets him pull her closer, nestling against his shoulder. Alain is warm, and his arms around her keep her from shivering at the memory of the dark and cold.

"Thanks, Alain."

He drops a gentle kiss on her temple, and holds her a little closer.

Both you're welcome and any time, Alain-style.

Alain-style of silent communication better not involve black clothes and a white face

Even with Alain holding her, it takes a long time for Lilly to go back to sleep. Deep down she's afraid if she falls asleep the dream will take over, become real.

She's tired, though, and Alain's presence is solidly reassuring, and so eventually the dream fades enough that Lilly can sleep again.

Lilly finally dozes off again, lying limp and relaxed against his chest. It takes a while more before Alain does.

He's thinking of Roland's note. Of Lilly's headache. He doesn't know that this is connected, but... it's worrisome.

Eventually, though, he sleeps. If she dreams again, it doesn't wake him (http://www.livejournal.com/users/honest_johns/5316.html?thread=78788#t78788).

Light. Bright light. Lilly is not actually a Gremlin, but her reaction to bright lights in the morning has certain eerie similarities.

She blinks, buries her face in Alain's shoulder.

"Argh. Too fucking bright."

He blinks himself more awake, vaguely aware that as a coherent response that lacks something.

Lilly, her eyes screwed shut, waves one arm sleepily at the light.

"Sun. Bad."

"...It's morning, Lilly."

Very amused.

Firmly, against his shoulder.

"Mornings're bad too."

He cocks an eye at the sunlight streaming in.

"It's nine-thirty. Long past dawn."

Yes, still amused.

There's no clock in the room. He doesn't need one. If Cort made you stay out in the forest every night until you learned to keep a clock in your head, you wouldn't either.

Lilly sighs and rolls over, away from the light, her eyes still shut.

"Fine, so it could be worse. I guess you want to get up?"

He grins, and rolls onto his side to lace his fingers through hers, in what might be a half-apology.

"Soon, anyway."

Lilly sighs, leans back against him.

"Okay. I guess I can deal with that."

She may be smiling just a little, and then something occurs to her and her face brightens.

"Will there be coffee?"

"Could be." A smile in his voice.

Lilly turns over to face him, smiling.

"Awesome. If there's coffee, I think I can handle the not-using-your-curtains thing you do."

"Well then."

A grin and a quick kiss, and then he moves to slide out from under the sheets.

Lilly kisses back and lets him go, not moving herself just yet. Instead she stretches lazily and looks around the room. It's kinda bare compared to hers, but there are a few books on the desk and a stained glass replica hanging in the window that looks vaguely familiar.

"I like your room, Alain, even if I think you could maybe use some pictures."

He slips into a pair of jeans, and reaches for his gunbelts.

"Pictures?"

He's never really thought about it.

"Yes, pictures," Lilly says, laughing.

"Of course, doing most of your decorating with weapons works, too. Very gunslingery."

"I don't have that many," he protests.

Two guns. Two belt knives, one a present. Hardly an arsenal. ...Although, yeah, it's a significant percentage of his personal effects.

The gunbelts are slung around his hips with the unthinking deftness of motions that have became second nature years ago.

"It's a bedroom." Ergo, no need for much decoration.

It shows, sometimes, that Alain spent a lot of his life sleeping in barracks and on the trail.

Lilly looks at the bed she's lying in.

"Yeah, caught that."

Reluctantly, she slides out of bed and grabs her t-shirt off the armchair it was draped over.

"It doesn't mean it can't also be pretty."

He slants an amused glance at her, buttoning up his shirt, and shrugs.

"Never found it that important."

Lilly smirks at him.

"Somehow, I am not surprised."

She glances around the room again, and laughs.

"You don't happen to have like, a brush, do you? Or would that be too much decoration?"

Alain snorts.

"...Um." Glancing about fails to produce a hairbrush. He has short hair.

Lilly laughs again, pulling on her jeans and then sitting on the bed. She smiles at him, combing her fingers through her hair to try and get rid of some of the tangles.

"Okay, see? Utilitarian is not always the way to go."

"I don't need a hairbrush," he points out.

"Um. Could stop by your room, before the bar."

"Yeah, good idea," Lilly says, nodding.

"I can brush my hair and get coffee before we go down and get coffee."

He laughs aloud.

"All right."

Lilly beams. Making Alain laugh generally has that effect.

"Come on, then," she says happily, grabbing his hand and tugging him on in search of coffee.

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