"You can't leave me to die, can you?"
Every night, her voice pleads in my head, the desperation never changing.
I tell Gabrielle that I'm staying up to keep watch, but the truth is I fear no mortal blade more than I fear sleep, and the visions that accompany it; my body screams for reprieve, but my mind can no longer take the frantic cries that haunt my dreams.
In the light of day, I can pretend otherwise, but night opens its doors to everything one cannot admit in the presence of the sun. Darkness draws out secrets, and your demons blackmail you out of any shred of sanity.
I don't want to worry her, no matter what. Not when her happiness is all that keeps me sane.
"Help me, Xena, help me…"
I tear my eyes open once more, the smoldering ashes of the fading campfire like faces on the ground. I feel slightly ill, and look away.
I try thinking about a story Gabrielle told me once-when she'd told me, I felt like I'd heard it before, but it was easier to grasp reality when it was her voice reciting it to me.
I sing of Ariadne, the greatest of weavers-
"-"
I choke back a scream, not wanting to wake her. She shifts in her sleep, and mumbles something incomprehensible, but does not wake. A wave of relief washes over me, and I slump against the tree once more.
"Hello, my sweet," a silky, dangerous voice calls out from the shadows. I leap to my feet, instinct taking over, brandishing my sword and whirling about the clearing, my body listening for any sign of attack.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry so much, Xena, I'm…almost…completely harmless." Callisto saunters out of the darkness like a nightmare manifest, the moonlight lighting up her pale hair. One might mistake her for a nymph, or demon if they looked into her eyes. She has her hands above her head almost comically, a playful expression on her face. She had the distinct air of someone who could not be trusted, let alone someone harmless.
"I've fallen asleep again, haven't I?" I almost snarl, my grip on the hilt causing my knuckles to go white.
"You may be, or you may not; what difference does it make, really?" she grinned, stepping closer, stopping briefly before Gabrielle's bedroll. The urge to fight boils up in me, but I shake it off, my stance remaining guarded.
"Quite a bit of difference. If this is a dream, nothing happens to you, but if it isn't I'll have to drag you to Tartarus myself," I glare at her, and she remains unflinching.
"Is that so? Tell me, why is it that you're so afraid?" she's no more than an arm's length from the tip of my blade now.
"And why would you think that?" I countered, taking a step forward.
"The mind is a powerful thing, the one thing that truly makes us human-and yet, so vulnerable…so easy to turn in on itself." I don't know why I'm just standing here, not attacking, not saying anything; she pushes my sword to the side in a slow, gentle motion, condescendingly; she's so close now, I can hear her breathing, feel her sliding a hand up my neck. Her skin is cold, her touch light, almost as if it were a chill running down my neck and not a caress.
"I'm simply the effect," she breathes, her hand on my cheek, my body frozen-is it fear? Is it something else? "And you, Xena, provide the catalyst."
Her lips are on mine, and I feel a sensation of cold and heat running through me all at the same time; her lips are like ice, and yet it sparks fire. It's a blend of shock, of anger, of hatred, a thousand emotions boiling up all at once in a scream that simply dies in my throat.
She leans forward to whisper in my ear, her warm breath stirring strands of my hair and sending more shock waves through me.
"You'll always know how much I hate you, but you'll never know that was what made me love you."
She's gone, and I'm laying on the ground, pale grey dawn glaring down at me, sweat and morning dew drenching my body, my breaths ragged.
"Hmm? Xena, are you up?" Gabrielle calls to me groggily from her place across the fire pit.
"Yes…Good morning," I manage to say normally.
We restart the fire, and I begin cooking breakfast as we sit in silence. Next to me, I can just feel the inevitable question hanging in the air.
"Xena?" she asks, in the way she always does if she doesn't want to say something.
"What is it, Gabrielle?" I know what it is, but I don't want to hear it from her. Anyone but her.
"Do you have trouble sleeping? You were talking in your sleep last night, and it seemed like it was something bad." I cringe mentally upon hearing her ask. The one thing I could ask of the gods, and they fail to grant it to me.
"It's nothing, just some bad dreams." I lie, just a bit more, if it will preserve her innocence.
She looks hurt, and I can't discern why.
I feel her hand clasp around mine, and I don't know which one of us she's trying to reassure.
Why does she have to be so perceptive? It would be simpler if I only had to protect her from everything else, not myself also. Couldn't she just accept my protection, not delve deeper like this?
Sighing in bitter resignation, I return the assurance, my hand tight around hers.
Despite the warmth of the moment, my skin is still cold where she touched me.
Well, that was my first attempt at Xena fanfiction...Please review.