There are a few references to my other, stupidly long, Drew-fic:"I Always Wanted a Brother"in this oneshot (mostly involving a certain marsupial), but this story should still make sense, even if you haven't read that story first (if not – what are you waiting for, it's only like, 100,000 words long or something…)
I don't own Degrassi
Nightmares
Bianca had fallen asleep as soon as she hit the pillow. Sophie wasn't far behind her. Drew listened out for the sound of her little baby breathing; there was something so strangely comforting about that sound. He completely understood why parents had baby monitors; it wasn't for peace of mind - it was relaxation music, and it beat out pan flutes and whale sounds any day of the week.
He found himself syncing up his own breathing to hers as he drifted into an easy, dreamless sleep. A day at the park with Megan tired him out more than he cared to admit. He used to be Drew Torres: star quarterback, now he got winded chasing a four-year-old around for a few hours. Adam, who had a piece of bullet inside of him, was less unfit than Drew. He eventually had to take over play duty so Drew could have a rest to catch his breath, something Adam was very quick to pick up on.
"You need an oxygen tank there, old man?" he commented as he fixed one of Megan's loose pigtails (Drew had perfected the ponytail and simple bunches, but just didn't have the nimble fingers for braids. Bianca could even do a particularly terrifying and complicated one known as the "French braid." Trust the French to make something unnecessarily fancy.)
"I'm fine," he wheezed, pulling his tired body up, taking Megan's newly fixed braid and tickling her cheek with it. "Aww, don't you look beautiful? Your Uncle Adam's a real master braider."
That comment, Drew quickly found out, was a mistake; Megan proudly ran around that park, telling anyone who would listen just how much of a "master braider" her Uncle Adam was. If Drew weren't laughing so hard at it, he would have stopped her. Adam had to sheepishly collect her, avoiding looking a slightly appalled woman in the eye. Drew couldn't tell if his complete inability to breathe was caused by his total lack of fitness or hysterics, either way, Adam didn't follow suit.
"Yuk it up, Mr. Burns. At least I can cross the street without collapsing. Point master braider!"
Adam could laugh; he only had seven more months of full night's sleep before he became an old man too. He wouldn't be so quick to joke after a few weeks of sleepless nights, colicky infants…
…and random thuds way after someone's bedtime.
Drew lifted his head up, listening to the pitter-patter of little feet as they jumped out of their bed, wandered across the hall and carefully pried open his bedroom door, running straight to the side of his bed.
A scribble of black curly hair appeared above the mattress, followed by a pair of big brown eyes.
"Did I wake Mommy?" the mysterious hair monster whispered.
Drew groaned as he turned over. Bianca remained sunk deeply into her pillow, mouth agape, veins of hair rippling out in all directions, body sprawled out from the exhaustion of dealing with a five-week-old all day, not even Drew's suggestion of taking Megan out for the day seemed to get her much peace until after Sophie's bedtime. Drew started to think that the trip was more of a break for him than it was for Bianca and it made him feel guilty, no matter how unintentional his day of hooky was. She had looked even more stressed than usual when Drew finally returned, he and Megan finishing their matching ice cream cones. Bianca on the other hand looked as if she had only just survived an encounter with a hurricane in Babies "r" Us. Drew asking her if she enjoyed her break may not have been his smartest move.
"No, Mommy's asleep," Drew husked, not wanting to risk clearing his throat too loudly and waking Bianca from her much-deserved rest.
The hair monster pulled herself up, revealing that she had actually been a little girl the whole time. She craned over Drew and Bianca in the bed to look into the crib by the window.
"Did I wake Bubsy?"
Bubsy. That was Sophie's new given name. It started with "The Baby" when Megan had trouble remembering that her new little sister had her own name, then it turned into "Chubby Bubby" when it became apparent that The Baby was going to be a very adorably plump-faced newborn, then it finally mutated into "Bubsy" and Bubsy was what every last person would probably call her until she grew out of her baby jowls (or until she learned to talk enough to object to it, whichever came first.) She was also a much better sleeper than Megan was at that age and remained contently dreaming in her cot, her perfectly pink chubby cheeks puffing in and out with her breathing.
"No, we're fine."
Megan clung onto her Koala, looking down at his matted head. He had once belonged to Drew, and called Mr. Koala, but he was Megan's now and she had christened him "Rosie". He pretended to be totally fine with it, but still called him by his proper name when she wasn't around. For Mr. Koala's sake.
She threw Mr. Koala onto the pillow beside Drew, freeing her hands, and clambered onto the bed.
"I had a bad dream," she said, pulling the collar of her Little Mermaid nightshirt over the bottom half of her face. "You left the park without me. And I was all alone and a big scary vampire bat came down and it grabbed me."
She rammed her head straight into Drew's shoulder, clinging on to his t-shirt and burying her face into his arm.
"And it flew away with me, and I could see you and Uncle Adam walking away. I shouted and shouted, but you didn't hear me," she whimpered, her voice wobbly and dangerously close to tears. "Then you were far away and the bat dropped me and I was falling and falling and then I woke up."
She shuffled herself in even closer, crawling under the blankets. Her cold toes sharply pressed against Drew's abdomen, her sharp knees against his chest. He pulled back the hair hiding one side of her face.
"Shh," he said, pressing his cheek down to meet hers. "I would never, ever, leave you alone in the park. The big bat isn't real, and if it was, I wouldn't let it take you."
"But what if you were lying down like today, and it grabbed me when you weren't looking?"
Drew chewed on the inside of his mouth, feeling a pang of guilt, or maybe even shame for being too old and tired to play with his own pre-schooler. He wasn't even thirty yet; he had no excuses for being as sluggish and flabby as a man twice his age. Bianca, who had given birth to Toronto's Chubbiest Baby just over a month ago, was in better shape than him. Megan, however didn't seem to mind as she cuddled into his extra layers. He pulled his hand out from under her side and held the back of her head, like he would have when she was as little as Sophie and unable to support it herself. He let her unruly hair tangle and weave itself between the spaces in his fingers. Her entire head fit in his hand. Drew remembered a time where her whole body could fit in his hands and suddenly he found himself rocking gently back and fourth, letting Megan sway alongside him.
"Well Uncle Adam was there, too." He said gently. "And if it's not me or Uncle Adam, it will be Mommy or Grandma and Grandpa or Aunt Tracy. There are so many people looking out for you."
Megan lifted her free hand, reaching over to grab "Rosie," holding "her" close to her chest and creating a little stuffed wall between her and Drew. The Koala's fur was sticky at the ends and he smelled suspiciously like apple juice. Drew would have to give him a bath in the kitchen sink at some point (he didn't have the heart to stick him in the washing machine; he'd get dizzy.) He wondered if he should have included him on the list of people who would look out for Megan; Mr. Koala was the greatest protector of little kids (and a first-rate cabin boy to boot.)
"I know was only a dream, so it wasn't real," Megan sniffled into Mr. Koala's head. "But it still scared me."
Baby Bubsy cooed in her sleep. Drew held his breath, hoping she wouldn't wake.
"I don't want to go back to sleep now," said Megan, her voice still weak and quiet. "Am I being silly?"
Drew pulled himself up into a sitting position, taking Megan and Mr. Koala along with him so that they were sitting on his lap, closely cuddled into him like he was Father Christmas (he automatically heard Adam's voice in his head making the obvious joke about Drew already catching up to Old Saint Nick's girth, followed by his own voice to telling imaginary Adam to shut up, toothpick.)
"Oh, Princess, no. It's okay to be scared sometimes," Drew insisted, looking down at her head, still tucked in below his shoulder. "Everyone has scary dreams every now and then."
She pulled herself out of Drew's arm, looking up with him with a serious and studying look that simply didn't belong on a little girl as young as Megan.
"Even you?"
Drew swallowed down a lump he didn't even know was there; how it had evaded him was a mystery, it felt like a grapefruit had taken claim of his throat. There was a time when all his dreams were scary, when his life was so unbelievably terrifying that he couldn't even escape in sleep. A time when he locked himself into his bedroom, wrapped himself in his sheets and pressed himself against the door, barricading it from the bad guys who wanted to swoop him up and take him away, then he realized that someone could easily stab him through the door, so he moved into the middle of the room, where there were no walls to stab him through, but the he feared that he could be seen from his window so he sat in his own closet, hooded in his bed sheets before figuring out that he had cornered himself in a box and he wouldn't be able to escape if the big scary vampire bats got him.
He could feel himself, despite being twelve years and a lifetime of experiences removed from those living nightmares, tensely pushing his back away from the wall separating his bedroom from the small utility closet, though how anyone could squeeze past the boiler to stab him on the other side was a mystery to Drew, and he allowed himself to breathe and relax enough to lean his tired body against it again.
"Even me," he said, hoping that Megan wouldn't pick up on his edginess. He suddenly felt very awake, he listened out for Sophie's breathing again, and then Bianca's; they were both safe and sound.
"And you were brave," Megan said. It wasn't a question, she wasn't asking. She knew that her Daddy was brave and strong, that he didn't cower in fear and that nothing could ever scare him. He was unbreakable – he wasn't capable of weakness.
He wished that there were someone who believed that when he was a seventeen-year-old boy who hadn't slept in three days because he was too afraid to even shut his eyes; they could get him in his sleep; if he didn't sleep, he couldn't have nightmares, and if he didn't have nightmares then no one could hear him scream in his bed and everyone would have a good reason to leave him alone. The fatigue had really set in by the afternoon of the third day, when he returned to his room after splashing some water on his face and Bianca was sitting on his bed; a gun in her hand, telling him that is was only a matter of time before they got him – why prolong his suffering?
He may have believed that she was really there if Ma (his birth mother; the one who left him and Dad to live a burden-free life in Australia) hadn't showed up to tell him that Bianca was right; no one could protect him forever- they'd get sick of looking after him, he was on his own.
Even then, he could still somehow convince himself that it was really happening. Then Gracie showed up and scoffed at the idea of anyone trying to save him. After all, Drew let her die – he was even happy about it. Why should anyone protect him?
Frozen in fear, Bianca and Gracie held Drew down as Ma let Vince in; Bianca telling him that it was easier to get it out of the way, Ma saying that it was selfish to let everyone else suffer because of Drew's weakness and Gracie gently assuring him that it didn't hurt to die.
No – please. Please don't do this. Don't kill me!
That was the most intense nightmare he had; only it wasn't a nightmare, it was worse. He couldn't wake up from it; he was already awake. He was too scared to go to sleep and too scared to stay awake. He got himself so worked up that he couldn't even breathe anymore. Dad had to hold him on the floor until he could get calm again; he didn't even flinch when Drew threw up on him. He had no idea how someone could remain so non-grossed-out by something like that until he had kids of his own.
"One time, I used to have lots of bad dreams," Drew said, suddenly unable to stop being so self-conscious about his own breathing. "Every night. And I was really scared, and I was much bigger than you."
Megan gasped.
"You were scared?" she said, her eyes widening in disbelief.
Drew nodded at her, twirling a strand of her curls around his finger.
"I was so scared that I was too afraid to tell anyone about the bad dreams. You told me straight away. That makes you much, much braver than I was."
He could see her chest swell up with pride, her face breaking into a satisfied grin that made her look even more like her mother than she usually did.
"I guess it was pretty brave," she told herself, nodding smugly.
"Yeah, you were," said Drew, equally as smug for her and kissing her on the head.
Megan's brow furrowed with swift concern, pulling her little mouth taughtly inward.
"But you don't have those nightmares anymore, do you?" she asked solemnly.
Drew didn't have bad dreams anymore. He had stressful days and sleepless nights, but he didn't think that he had actual nightmares, not really.
"Nope," he said assuredly. "I don't have bad dreams anymore."
Although as soon as he said it, he started to have the nagging feeling that those words weren't strictly true. He may not have had bad dreams with evil bad guys or big scary bats, but he certainly had fears, they certainly kept him awake at night and they definitely made him want to reach for a cuddly toy and hide himself under his blanket.
But Megan was too young to understand those sorts of fears.
She had calmed enough to stop clinging to Drew so tightly, choosing instead to tidy up the messy Mr. Koala. Mr. K. sat quite obediently as she groomed him. Drew had a sudden inspiration.
"Did you know that Mr- um, Rosieis a very special bear?"
Megan rolled her eyes. Drew knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.
"Koala's aren't bears, they're-"
"-I know, I know, sorry," Drew corrected quickly. "Rosie is a very special marsupial. When I was your age, Nana -my Mommy- gave me Rosie and when I hugged him- uh, her– Nana could feel it all the way in Australia; and Australia is really far away."
Megan looked at him with a suspicion that Drew didn't possess when Ma told him the same story. Part of him was grateful that Megan had somehow managed to avoid his dimwit gene, and part of him was sad that a four-year-old could be so sceptical to magic.
"Then Uncle Adam had to go through something scary and I gave Rosie to him, and when he hugged her, Icould feel that hug."
He spied Megan gently squeezing Mr. Koala's paws, as if to somehow test this claim. Drew reciprocated by pinching Megan's cheek. She let out a squeal that Drew was certain would wake up the other girls, but they both remained fast asleep.
"Then Uncle Adam gave Rosie back to me when I was scared and Uncle Adam could feel the hugs," Drew explained. "And then I gave Rosie to you. And whenever you hug her, it's not only me who can feel it; Uncle Adam and Nana can feel it too, and we'll know to hug you right back – all three of us."
She grinned, showing off the huge gaps between her little baby teeth. They'd fall out soon; then Drew and Bianca could get excited about the tooth fairy (and Megan too, of course, but Drew was sure that she wouldn't get nearly as much of a kick out it as Drew would.)
"Really?" she asked, mouth open in wonderment. She turned Mr. Koala around to face her, pulling him in tightly. Drew made a show of being squeezed by invisible arms before freeing his own to hug her back. Megan wrapped her legs around Drew's waist.
"I think I can go back to sleep now."
Drew stood, lifting Megan and "Rosie" up, the full weight of her head collapsing onto his shoulder before he even got into the hallway and back to her own, very pink, room, and into her pink bed, tucking into her pink princess bed sheets with Mr. Koala lying peacefully by her side, the nightlight on the bedside table filling the room with a soft glow.
It was far too pink for a Koala as manly as Mr. K. (Drew didn't care that Adam pointed out that he had a pouch, Mr. Koala was a dude - because Drew said so. He wasn't going to be tricked by the fact that Megan had basically renamed him "pink.") But despite his offensively pink, frilly, sparkly post, Mr. Koala would dutifully protect Megan in her dreams – the only place where Drew was unable to do the job himself. As long as Mr. K. knew that he was merely a sub while Drew took a water break then they were still cool, he simply had to accept that Drew was Megan's number one.
As he pulled out of the soft glow of her nightlight and into the darkness of the hallway, Drew felt his stomach sink. He knew that his days of being her knight in shining armour were numbered; that one day she'd realize that her superhero Daddy was, indeed, breakable. That he wouldn't be the person she came to when she had a bad dream, or a bad day at school, or a bad break-up. He'd just be her stupid, out of touch Dad, he wouldn't understand; he wouldn't get it. She wouldn't need him.
That. That was Drew's new nightmare.
He carefully crawled back into his own bed, curled himself into his sheets and listened to Sophie's gentle breathing as he once again drifted into a dreamless sleep.
