So I saw a story about Rose sleepwalking. I didn't actually read it, but I decided to do this, because there are only so many family quirks I can add in to Hunted, and I don't think I can wait until the third book to write them in a story. Hence the VA one-shots – you don't have to think about new characters, or if this would really be how your character would act. For fanfiction like mine, it doesn't matter.
After three kids, Olena Belikova had realized that there was an upside to insomnia – when everyone else was asleep, the house was finally silent. Of course, Yeva would occasionally come down and check on her, Karolina lost about an hour and a half of sleep each night because she got up to use the bathroom and get a drink of water so often, and Sonya still had nightmares about the last time her father came over, but it was still relatively quiet for most of the night. If Olena sat still enough, sometimes the humming of the kitchen appliances – the swishing of the dishwasher, the timed buzz of the refrigerator – lulled her into a light doze.
Unfortunately, it was too light to last long. Something always woke her up – the refrigerator turned on. The dishwasher changed cycles. Dimitri slipped and fell down the stairs. Dimitri tripped over a chair. Dimitri turned on the tap. Dimitri dropped a glass. Dimitri tried to walk into the refrigerator, mumbling about monsters and how it was the best place to hide. Dimitri walked straight into the back door, banging his nose hard on the glass, hard enough to wake up everyone but himself.
Sometimes Olena didn't know what to do with him.
Karolina had sleepwalked when she was his age a few times, but it was never as frequent as this and she'd stopped within six months (putting the safety gate upstairs, after the bathroom but before the stairs, had helped). Sonya wasn't old enough to figure out how to climb out of her toddler's bed.
Olena knew that sleepwalking was common in children, and that they usually grew out of it, but some of the things Dimitri had done were ridiculous. Sometimes even dangerous, like last winter when he had gone outside – still in his pajamas, without a hat or coat or even socks on – and was halfway through building what looked like a snow fort before anyone realized he was there. Yeva had yelled at him for ten minutes straight before realizing that he was still asleep.
She was glad he couldn't go anywhere during school – the hall monitor always saw him back to his room. Then he called Olena and complained. "Four times this week – twice on Wednesday!" she remembered him saying once. She also remembered that it had been considered a good week.
Olena wondered what she would do during the next winter break, after the baby was born. She wouldn't have the pregnancy insomnia anymore, and Yeva usually did the nighttime feedings, partially because she was an insanely light sleeper, and partially because she could afford to take long naps during the day (that was apparently "what old people do, if they're not having sex with each other!" according to Yeva). Even if Olena wanted to stay up and keep watch, she'd be too tired after spending the day playing with her children.
All she could do was hope he'd grow out of it by then.
Or get that lock on his door and wash his pajamas and sheets every morning.
She wished that he couldn't get over the stupid safety gate. The first time he had done it, he'd continued down the hall, down the stairs, and then proceeded to open every single open-able thing in the kitchen – drawers, the refrigerator, the freezer, the oven, and the few cupboards he could reach – and turn on every turn on-able thing in the kitchen – toaster, oven, sink, dishwasher (how he'd managed that, Olena still had no idea) and microwave. The last time he'd done that, he'd stumbled and fallen down the stairs before he could regain his balance. He had ended up in the hospital with a fractured wrist and nightmares for the next three months.