Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Won't You Stay With Me?
She didn't like the nightmares; the way they made her cry. She'd never seen it herself, but she knew that, when they came for her, there would be tears, hands flailing about for comfort. When she'd wake, there would be no bed beneath her tiny frame. Just warmth and safety as she lay in his arms, her own hugging him until the sobbing subsided.
She was strong, wild, but she knew fear. There had been times that she'd felt it far more prominently than any other emotion. Times where she'd been afraid to lose what she loved and needed.
That's what the darkness brought her. It wasn't anything like the rolling fields of the Rukon, or the white streets and walls of the Seireitei. It was just black, cold, and wet.
This one had been worse than the others. She'd been somewhere barren, surrounded by all manner of dying animals and ruined shelters, the living crying out for peace and help. But where had he been? Her feet had led her on their own, carrying her through the carnage to what must have been its heart. There, she had seen that familiar silver shine, coated over in blood. She'd never minded blood. It was a part of everyone; something they needed to survive.
What had frightened her had been the fact that he wasn't there.
She'd run around in circles, screaming his name into a wind that rendered her mute. How could he hear her with all this about? It had made her cry louder, cheeks streaked through with tears. She'd gone until an uprooted tree had grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her down to meet the earth from which she'd come. It was then that she'd seen him, standing far off in the distance, a glaze over his eyes.
Her hands had reached for him, the stars gently blinking out of existence as he moved. At first, she'd believed him to be coming for her, mouth turning upwards into a gleeful smile. But, after waiting, he began to grow smaller, dying out in the shadow of the night. In turn, the tree had moved, wrenching her backwards through the dirt and grime, as if to tear them apart. Her fingers had sunk themselves into the fallen foliage of now rotted plants, screaming his name with everything she had.
That dream always made her scream.
That's why she wanted him, desperate to feel his arms around her. He never complained, really. Telling her she was a brat was a way of showing his endearment. He took care of her, loved her, and that was enough. Still, she wanted him to promise that he wouldn't go away.
The way his hand smoothed her hair was nice, a silent song to her tired body. She curled against his chest, fingers pinching his arm.
He wouldn't leave her. He never could.