In honor of Season 2, Episode 19: "Nightmare Hospital"

At long last, it hath been released.

It was a familiar feeling.

That sensual consciousness that possesses your legs, forcing your knees and below to become lifeless and therefore plunge to the cold tiled floor. A gut wrenching clench to the stomach, rising and spreading throughout ones chest in constant denial of what you feel.

Because I am not weak. I am not feckless. I refuse to be useless. I am strong, both physically and mentally.

I'm not scared.

"Connie," she turned to the back seat of where I sat, eyes brimmed red with exhaustion. "We're home."

I could hear it in her own voice as well. Although she attempted to hide it for the sake of us both, it proved to be futile as her vocals noticeably shook.

She was scared too.

I unbuckled my seat belt and slipped it off, holding tight to the strangely warm surface of the scabbard. Perhaps the warmth was purposefully developed in order to provide some sort of comfort to the user during battle? Whatever the reason, it failed in all purpose tonight. There was no console to be found.

The spring air hit me hard as she opened the door for me, waiting patiently for me to step out. This was new. Normally, she wouldn't have stuck around to open a measly door for me.

"Thanks." My voice rasped. Probably because I hadn't uttered a word throughout the whole ride home. I slid out, still grasping the hauntingly warm pink scabbard to my chest.

I walked in front of her, she trailing behind me as if scared I would somehow bolt away. It wasn't a secret. We both knew.

I hurt her today. Lying. And she was scared for that.

The scabbard tucked under my arm, I took out my spare key, a copy that had been created at a nearby store in order so that I was able to sneak out and return without being locked out. If she noticed this, she chose to ignore.

I creaked open the door, immediately looking to the right and checking for Dad's shoes. Of course, midnight and he still wasn't home. I slipped off my shoes, watching from the corner of my eyes as she did the same, and together we both made our way up the stairs.

The gut wrenching fear returned as I found myself standing in front of my room. It was ridiculous. Her room was only a couple of feet away for heaven's sake! I placed a hand on the metal knob, glancing back to see that she was coincidentally copying my actions. Our eyes met.

I looked away.

"G'night Mom," I muttered before twisting the knob and opening the door, hands trembling as I shut it tight. The twisting sensation returned almost painfully. Not bothering to change into pajamas, I headed with shaking legs to my bed, dropping the ineffectively warm weapon carelessly to the ground and scrambling madly under the covers of my bed.

Ludicrous, I scolded myself. To feel frightened by scenarios that appear to be normal through Steven's perspective.

The rapid pumping of blood became unbearably loud to the point in which I feebly attempted at covering my ears. Under the blankets soon turned into a sauna, the sweat drenched air only continuing to become more and more humid as I refused to let it diffuse out. I clutched at the blankets to the point where my knuckles turned white, letting out occasional whimpers at any sound to be made in the stillness of the night.

And yet, I refused to move. Shamed at my behavior. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Mortifying.

Why can't I just be strong like Steven?

My eyes snapped open at the sound of the door creaking open. Almost immediately, my heart beat increased ten times the regular speed. The door closed, soft brushes of footsteps indicating the life form to be human.

I found myself hyperventilating quietly, eyes shut tight and body frozen with fear.

This God accursed feeling of fear.

The blanket was slowly peeled away, cold air instantly striking at my already trembling body. The breaths became uncontrollably louder and rushed, small high pitched vocals coming at the end of every pant.

I was so scared, and what I hated about it was that it was impossible to deny it. I clenched my jaw, curled tighter into a ball, and squeezed tight at my fists.

"Mom," I found myself snivel out. Because that's the first thing every child finds themselves saying in a time of panic. A strange panic instinct developed by the human brain.

But then, a cool hand came to rest on my head, gently wiping the gathering sweat droplets. Another came to rest at the back of my neck, refreshing the dizzying heat. I stifled at the touch at first, breathes coming to screeching halt. Then, exhaling slowly, I allowed the hands to make their way across my body, sometimes rubbing at my cheeks, other times coming to stop at my chest, as if feeling the beat of my heart.

At this point, I already knew who it was. Nonetheless, it was hard to get over my shock. The last time I could remember her actually stepping into my room was almost over three years ago when my alarm broke and she was forced to come in and wake me for school.

But…the soothing feeling of not being alone. I found a smile tugging at my lips to know, to actually have proof that she actually cared.

A swelling burst of warmth compressed at the fear wrenching sensation, crushing it downwards. I blinked open my eyes and peered up at her looming figure, tears gathering at the edge of my eyes.

"C-Connie! I…I didn't mean to wake y-"

I didn't let her finish her sentence. A sob erupted from deep inside and I launched myself at her, nearly tripping as I slid off the bed and buried my face into her leg. I stood there, leaning my weight onto her as I grasped at her pants. She didn't say anything, only kneeled down as to bring me in for a closer embrace in which I happily returned.

Secure. Protected. Safe. Oh what an amazing sensation to be felt as the tears continued to stream downwards, a soft smile making its way onto my expression. I gripped at her shirt harder, and she tightened her already fixed embrace.

"It's alright Connie," I heard her murmur, possibly in an attempt to comfort herself. "Your strong, independent, smart," her hand came to the back of my hair, stroking it in a calming manner, "beautiful, kind, brave, loving…a true hero."

But I need her.

We sat there for a few minutes before she finally ushered me up at the sight of me beginning to fall asleep on her chest, leading me hand in hand towards the closet. Exhausted, I compiled without argument. I stood there, yawning with squinted eyes as she rummaged through the neat stacks of clothes. My eyes began to close shut, only to be opened slightly at the feeling of my shirt being slipped upwards, pants downwards. My nightgown was slipped atop, the cozy material earning another yawn from me. My small hands being taken into her larger ones yet again, she guided me back to the bed.

Through the fogginess of my mind, I drowsily looked up at her and grabbed onto her hand with both of mine before she could let go.

"Mom?"

"Yes Connie?"

"Will…*yawns*…will you stay with me till' I sleep?"

And her eyes, god her eyes at that point seemed to be filled to the brim with pain and strain at her disgusted realization upon herself.

"Of course I will Connie," her voice was slightly higher than usual, staring at me in disbelief and remorse.

And I smiled, giving one last hug before detaching our hands and slipping gracefully onto the bed. She uncurled the crumbled up blanket and wordlessly brought it up to my chest. Before she could go to sit at my desk, I propped myself up on an elbow and outstretched a hopeful hand, shifting to the side in order to make room for her.

With a smile, she took my hand and slipped under the blanket with me. Immediately, I was close to her side and hugging her arm; then I was under her arm throwing a careless hand over her torso and nuzzling my face into her side.

"Good night Connie," she sighed, bliss evident in her voice. "I love you."

"…love you too."

...

Just a quick 3 hour written fluff done right after watching this episode. If you liked, feel free to fav and drop a criticizing review at my lovely writing.

*sends internet hug*

._.