"Moonbeams"
Fandom: Slayers
Rating: PG-13 (for a bit of profanity)
Pairing: Lina x Gourry
AN: Alright. I'm just going to get it out in the open before I have everyone at my throat. Yes, this is another 'nightmares after NEXT' story. Yes, I am quite aware that there must be a million of these floating around already. But it's such an intriguing idea, and having recently seen the end of this magnificent series a few weeks ago, it had to be done.
I don't think this would affect anyone much, but I've only seen the dubbed series, so any random dialogue I may have thrown will be based off what was said there.
This is also my first Slayers fic. Be sure to let me know how well it went.
Sometimes, she likes to watch him sleep.
The nightmares are to blame. It's all their fault, she angrily protests to no one but the moon that lingers in the windowpanes, its haunting glow of light dancing through darkness and along her skin; a delicate, but powerful presence.
...and yet, she knows the situation is hopeless when it's suddenly necessary to justify her actions to the moon, of all things.
She doesn't even remember when they started. A month ago, maybe? A week? A day?
It doesn't matter, really. Just one was enough. Enough to bring the apparently all-powerful sorceress to battered knees, shaken and desperate for relief.
Just one...
A little boy, perched upon a rock, surveying those below as if he is the shoe that playfully lingers in the air, and they are the bugs; ugly and worthless, expendable. His eyes rattle her soul; so much evil has come to light there, an evil that could shake the bones of saints.
Her hand twitches, loosely clutching the blanket wrapped around her form.
He focuses on something, gaze alert with a sudden interest. She tries to tell just what has caught his attention, but finds the task impossible from her position.
A cruel smile echoes against his supposedly innocent face, and he snaps, speaking words that, unbeknownst to her, are the beginning of a terrifying ordeal.
"Oh yes, you! You'll do nicely."
"N-No..."
Black. It's everywhere, like a virus. Angry, menacing.
She hears someone cry out against its power. Her heart gives a leap, so high that it makes her throat burn and her eyes water.
This can't be happening...
A bead of hot sweat dances along the tender skin of her cheek.
Tired feet somehow find strength to run. Blood, warm blood anxiously gathers in her chest. She struggles to keep it at bay, praying for one more minute, one more second.
She has to save him first. She has to keep going, despite how much it hurts.
Because some things hurt more than aching bones and throbbing heads.
She moans in her sleep, lips forming silent, desperate words.
She can never stop what comes next. No matter how fast she runs, how hard she tries.
He cries out her name one last time, and it shatters like glass, fragile glass against her.
It can't end this way. She won't allow it, she won't.
Have to save him. Have to...
Blood, hot and angry, overwhelms.
A battered ragdoll's body slams against rock. Pain drowns her, and yet, she struggles to rise for a fleeting moment, to resume the chase.
Have to...save...
Just before cold darkness envelops her, she hears laughter.
Hellmaster laughs. He laughs at her anger, her desperation, her tears.
He laughs at her weakness for a man who swore to protect her...and will suffer because of it.
Because of her.
It hurts more than any blade could, that laughter.
Powerful.
Suffocating.
And all she wants to do is cry. All she wants to do is scream.
Stop...
Give him back...
No...
NO!
She wakes with a start, throat hoarse and bitter, body rigidly slicing through air as it rises to meet the darkness. Eyes strip the room, frantic and confused, mind struggling to remain calm amidst all the chaos.
It takes a moment.
A moment of pure, unabashed fear that makes it difficult to even breathe. Maybe everything that happened since that day was just a dream, a stupid dream, and she's awakaning to tears running down her face and grief, the grief that she wasn't fast enough, wasn't good enough, and...
Finally, common sense decides to rear its magnificent head.
Everything is over. It has been for nearly a year now.
Hellmaster Phibrizzo is dead.
And her supposed protector is sleeping in the room right next door, safe.
She takes a few more deep breaths for good measure, nestling this knowledge comfortably within her, urging it to agree with her disheveled mind. A tentative return to the pillow is made, eyes being silently persuaded to shut. There's no danger, she sternly tells herself. There's no reason to be afraid...
A few seconds manage to slip past before she rises again, both nervous and agitated.
She can't sleep. She just can't. The fear is unneeded, and yet it remains gathered under her skin, a damaging reminder of black and running and screams and laughter and-...
She needs to see him.
Her body moves fluidly, goosebumps overtaking the skin of her legs as bare feet tenderly press against the floorboards. She snatches the blanket off her bed as a immediate reflex, wrapping it around her slender form before leaving the room in exchange for a dark, uncomfortable hallway.
This is stupid.
It's all she can think as she trudges along, furiously nibbling on her bottom lip.
He's fine. She just saw him a few hours ago, for heaven's sake! Nothing happens that fast, and if it did, there certainly would have been enough ruckus involved to attract her attention.
...but somehow, she knows it'll be impossible to rest until she knows for sure.
The door has been left unlocked, she discovers with a twinge of agitation. Why doesn't he just put up a sign that reads, 'I'm completely vulnerable, come on in?'.
She enters, only to confirm what she must have known all along; he's soundly asleep in the bed.
Completely fine.
See? There you go. Back to sleep.
And yet, her feet won't budge. Eyes remain inexplicably focused on him, on his face, on his chest, rising and falling in the natural pattern of sleep.
She doesn't want to leave. Tendrils of vigorous fear have latched onto the torn edges of her soul, refusing to leave her in peace. She worries it may attempt to overwhelm her if she returns to bed, if she even turns away for single moment, the poisonous threat of a restless sleep plagued with more terrifying nightmares hovering just above.
It only takes a simple second of dissecting one's options before she utters a embellished sigh of frustration.
...Oh, damn it all.
She gives up all hope of a good night's sleep at that point, instead pulling up a chair beside his bed.
She sits there. She sits and watches him do nothing but sleep, his breathing, soft and soothing, echoing through the quiet room.
And in some crazy, I-must-be-losing-my-stupid-mind sort of way...she kind of likes it.
Which is funny, because if someone had mentioned that her entire night would be spent sitting next to a bed and not sleeping in it, she'd probably of laughed. Or hurt the poor soul with the idea something fierce. Or both.
She allows her frazzled mind to sift into a tentative rest for a moment, ruby eyes drifting over him once more.
Gentle moonbeams filter through the weak glass of the window, casting a tender light along his face, effortlessly intertwining with his blond hair, giving it a heavenly glow.
The thought comes, fluid and unplanned, but comes all the same.
He's beautiful when he sleeps.
A small croak of surprise slips from her mouth, body stiffening upright in an immediate response.
Where the hell did that come from?
It's something that just can't be denied, though. Even silently, even to herself. Blood rushes to her face, coats her cheeks in thick red. Just looking at him makes her feel warm all over, a warmth that she can't say has ever been known by her body before.
It's hard.
The desire is always there, a monster that whispers constant, desperate thoughts but hides within the shadows, reluctant to reveal its naked self to the world.
It makes her feel. Whenever he stands next to her, smiles at her comments, comforts and protects her when she's vulnerable...she feels something, something that has never been there before. It confuses her, frightens her...and yet, she yearns to feel it even more.
Is it love?
Love is a powerful word, one that she usually reserves for the relationships of others. Closely-knit families, having picnics in the field and playing games, ridden with laughter. Children, innocent and free, who trust anyone that shelters them with an affectionate hug and kiss. Couples who have been together for years, strolling through town, holding hands and kissing whenever the slightest desire to do so pops into their heads.
Love is a dangerous word as well. Having seen her share of the world, she's witnessed it work its magic on multiple occasions. It can start relationships...but it can destroy them too. It can make you the happiest person...but it can make you the most miserable just as easily. It brings life...and ends it, usually painfully.
Love...is a word she refuses to toss around like a flawed gem. Some treat it as flimsy, devoid of any true meaning, merely a means to gain...but she believes in all the fairytales her mother whispered in her ear late at night. It's special, sacred.
What she feels for him...it could be love. It could not. She doesn't quite know yet. After all, it's the first time she's ever had to deal with this sort of thing. Might as well not jump to irrational conclusions.
She is, however, fairly sure that it's something awfully close.
And yet...she blatantly refuses to speak her mind. When matters progress to a point where emotion and desire are practically bursting out of her, she leaves until she can regain a decent composure. When Amelia and the others used to pressure her to reveal some inkling of a relationship, her mouth was shut tight until the subject changed.
It has to stay under wraps. For his sake.
...funny how he's supposed to be protecting her, and yet, she's the one who has to protect him.
Every mazoku, every demon, every evil entity knows her name, whispers it in hushed tones to one another, curses it with bitter venom dripping from their mouths. They are well-aware of just how powerful she is, even if they've never actually bore witness; stories travel for miles. Most would kill to be the one to bring her to her knees, to damageher, no matter what it took.
Up until that fateful battle with Gaav in the mountains, she had truly believed that she was perfectly immune to any of that nonsense, though. She had no weakness, no believable chance to fall into any under-handed schemes and tricks pulled by her enemies.
Phibrizzo figured it out, though. He figured it out even before she did.
But it became obvious soon enough. When the black energy pulsed with the life of an enthusiastic serpent, when her body managed to not just move, but run, even though a moment ago, it had been difficult to even stand. She knew then.
And she promised herself that if she managed to save him, she would never let it happen again.
That meant no more hints. No more inkling of anything other than a strict business-like relationship could surface to any outsiders.
Because they would use him against her.
They would make him suffer just because she cared.
So that was that. The monster, struggling to tear into the light, would have to sleep, maybe forever.
No matter how much it hurt.
"Li..na..."
The room abruptly comes into focus once more, mind having been clouded with various thoughts.
Her name? But who...
And yet, the tone is reluctantly familiar. She turns towards the bed, already forming a suitable excuse in her head for the unexpected visit to his room...
Well, you see, there was a slug in my bed, and I...
The thought dies as she realizes something peculiar; he's still asleep.
But...
It comes again, and this time, the mystery is solved.
His expression tenses, from one of relative peace into one of fear, anger. His arm, laying beside him, trembles gently.
"No...Li...na...come back...Lina..."
She can only watch, frozen in the chair, eagerly trying to catch every word he utters, slurred and panicked.
Are you dreaming about me...?
"Don't go...undone...want it undone..."
She faintly wonders if maybe she's not the only one who has nightmares of the ordeal, a wave of remembrance softly washing over her. After all, his wordsstrike a resounding blow of familiarityto her friends' descriptions of his actions after she had cast the Giga Slave. She utters a sigh, wishing she could remember the event for herself instead of having to rely on the accounts of others.
"Why'd...you do it...Lina? My life...yours...don't do it...Lina..."
Why did I do it? I did it because I care about you, you big jellyfish brain. Did you really think I just going to watch Phibrizzo kill you and then be all "Oh well, tough luck!" about it? Sheesh.
"I'll save you...I need you, Lina...I need you..."
Even though he's asleep, she finds herself extremely grateful for the fact that it's dark, making the blush that has abruptly conquered her face almost impossible to spot.
You...you need me?
She isn't really sure why she does what she does. Maybe she can't stand the fact that he's in such turmoil over her. Maybe she wonders what would happen if she touched him, just for a second, even; if fireworks would go off or all her friends would burst through the doors screaming "Ah-HAH!", like it was some hilarious practical joke. Maybe she's just insane and has no control over what her body does anymore.
No matter what the case, she finds herself reaching out towards him. Slowly, tenderly, she takes his hand, trembling fiercely, in her own.
I'm right here.
Trust me, I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you.
Because...I need you too.
Thankfully, he begins to calm down. The steady trembling of his body begins to more, face softening back into a gentle expression of peace.
He mumbles one last string of recognizable words before growing silent, his hand unconsciously gripping hers in return (as she's become all too aware of).
"Lina...stay..."
Once again, she feels herself growing warm, his hand and hers hopelessly intertwined in her lap.
So maybe she can't tell him how she feels. How much he's come to mean to her.
But at least she can do something.
Smiling, she finally embraces warmth.
...yes. I'll stay.
That's how it started.
She still has nightmares, not just of the kidnapping, but of other instances as well. She feels hot tears on her face and wonders if they'll ever stop, ever leave her in peace, but they remain relentless. She sees cold eyes, not his, but Phibrizzo's, bearing straight into her soul, and remembers how her feet once again failed her. She hears the crystal shattering into a million pieces, littered at her feet, and screams, screams until there's nothing left.
She always go to sit with him after that, the moon her only witness. She's learned that he has nightmares too, almost as many as her, terrifying ones where he calls out her name until his voice runs hoarse. Some of them don't make any sense to her; he mumbles about calm, about her fading away...and once, she SWORE she heard him say something about kissing. Maybe one day, it'll be clear, just what he sees at night.
And she hopes. She hopes that one day, it'll be safe for her to tell him how much she cares.
To tell him...that he's beautiful when he sleeps.
Reviews are appreciated. :D Help out a starving writer here.