Obscure Your Dreams, Love in Your Nightmares
Disclaimer: Tomorrow When the War Began belongs to John Marsden. I could never write something half as amazing. Or have Ellie ending up with Lee.
TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB TWTWB
We've been in Stratton for weeks now. We hit the biggest target, telling ourselves that our lives were a worthwhile sacrifice. We went out there and brought the airfield down as the last thing we would ever do. We thought we were giving up everything and we made that decision to all die and now here we are, not dead, but bruised and burnt and battered and in shock.
Yeah, we were wild that we were still alive. So thankful while the action was still in our blood, but then later, when it really sunk in that we were ready to die, that we chose to give up everything, sometimes it's more than can be dealt with. I think we all reached a place that we can't get back down from. We needed to make it there to do what we did but getting there didn't come with a backspace or an 'undo' key.
We defied all expectations to survive but now here we are.
Wind up toys that got wound too tight and broke.
I never knew it was possible to be so out of it that you could lose time – apart from when you're sleeping I mean. I'm talking about have your eyes wide open but retreating so far into your own mind that you can't even hear when someone says your name or not realising that it's been hours and hours, that half a day has past and you can't remember a single thought you had or a single thing that happened around you. I lose myself so deeply in my thoughts that it's like anything around me could happen and I can't say for sure whether or not I'd see it.
At first it was just a way to pass the time; what else around here is there to do apart from stare at the walls? At least if your mind is blank, you don't have to spend all the useless hours thinking about the bad things. The limbs getting blown off, the soldiers screaming while burning to death and the ones writhing around on the ground with their guts bleeding out in front of you and you not being able to do a single thing to stop it, even though it's all your fault in the first place. Because when you do think about, it just overwhelms you and you can't function. You need to throw up and retch and scream and cry and wonder if there's any way to escape it, apart from taking a knife to your wrists or tasting the cool metal of a gun and pulling the trigger.
After awhile it became more. Fading away wasn't just something to do; it was a retreat – an escape. I started turning down offers of company just so I could curl up in a dark room and let my mind go. I could stay unthinking in a place where my thoughts were slow, caught up in a haze where I could outrun them. It was like morphine – some heavy-duty drug to take the pain away. It let me stop thinking, stop feeling. Stop caring.
But when there's no one left to tell you that you're falling apart, how can you know when it happens?
"Hey El. I found a pack of cards buried in some back drawer of your grandma's room. Want to play?"
Homer's low voice rumbled its way into my consciousness. I blinked like I was waking up from a deep sleep though my eyes had never closed. All the strands of my mind that had drifted far away needed to be pulled back together and that made me hurt. I stared at him blankly, silhouetted as he was against the light from outside, leaning against the doorframe meeting the darkness from my room where I was sitting rigidly, hugging my knees tightly on a lounge chair. I thought about being annoyed that he was digging through my grandmother's things but found I couldn't conjure the energy.
No.
Slowly I said I was busy. I'd hardly heard him, let alone considered the words. Which considering it was sometime in the middle of the night, it was actually not the most normal thing in the world to ask.
"You don't look busy." Homer pointed out. Then he added quietly, "I might get offended."
I looked at him and I knew he knew exactly what I was doing. I'd never thought of Homer as shrewd but his dark eyes were full of knowing and maybe even understanding.
I just wanted them to look away because I didn't want anyone looking that closely at me.
His words didn't carry sting, but he wasn't joking either. His voice was listless and I did jerk a little internally when I realised it. Was I not the only one going blank? Was that what we had all become? Mindless robots, not even seeing each other anymore, hazy in our own minds to block out everything else around, including all we had left, which was each other? Letting walls obscure everything we had just to keep from feeling, to ward off emotion that'd always catch up with us sooner or later?
Still, it made Homer's offer all the more meaningful. If he was feeling half as hopeless as I was, yet still tried to make contact, well it's more than I can say for myself and I respect that.
Grandma's had become like a ghost house and we were all just zombies, unseeing but sometimes still bumping into each other, only to exchange a few meaningless words, all too caught up in our own horrors to care. That Homer was doing more gave me conflicting feelings.
I partly envied him, partly was just grateful that we hadn't all gone completely mad. Small comfort.
"Well, then I guess I'll have to play, won't I?" I finally said, surprising myself. "Just to keep from bruising your delicate ego." The joke came slowly, and felt odd, but with Homer still natural, always natural. I slowly moved from my couch to the floor, not able to remember the last time I moved, feeling my joints crack and receiving a throb from my bad knee. Homer came in from the doorway and dropped to the ground next to me, spreading out the cards.
From there the most silent game of cards ever to be played commenced. A few murmured words while deciding what to play and the occasional 'go fish" following but we were still distinct, isolated. Ellie was playing cards and Homer was playing cards but Ellie and Homer weren't playing together. It was like playing from separate worlds and I was fumbling trying to find the way to connect us, not even knowing where to start or if I even could find the motivation.
But then I started crying. Homer said go fish and I looked at my cards and next thing I knew, I started to cry. I didn't even realise at first, not until I saw a droplet fall on one of the hearts and splash there. I hadn't even felt it and I wondered what kind of creature I could be that didn't even notice when I cried. I don't even know why. Maybe it was just a build up of everything, and now I couldn't get back into my protective haze, I couldn't stop. My mind just got overrun. I didn't know how I was going to ever function again with my memories all so sharp and full of horrors, which made me despair and cry harder.
Homer didn't notice until I made a cry out loud. Both of our heads had been resolutely staring at our own cards, or the floor or the wall or the deck – never at each other. But when his eyes lifted from his cards and he looked at me there was no hesitation as he moved closer and before either of us even thought about it I fell into his arms and he caught me, his long arms wrapping me up inside them and for a minute I actually thought maybe if I could stay like this for awhile maybe I wouldn't need to make everything fade back away.
It just felt warm and I liked that. I couldn't get warm myself but now I knew I could leech heat from Homer. I liked the way he smelled and the way his body felt against mine. I liked that it felt safe there and I liked the way it felt so goddam familiar and like maybe not everyone in the world knew had deserted me. Homer had to be my before-the-war and during-the-war as well. He was my childhood in a way that none of the others could be, not now Corrie wasn't here and he was home and primary school and safe and he was a link to my parents as well as to his and to family and love and maybe even more than that.
Suddenly I wanted to feel. Not think – never think – but I was scared of how emotionless I was becoming. Not feeling the tears had clinched it. I wanted to feel something good, and I thought I could get it from Homer. I didn't stop to think about the consequences. I knew how much that meant this war had changed me, just remembering the way I'd agonized over Lee, but I didn't care. I trusted Homer to take care of me even as I tried to take advantage of him, because this war made me selfish. It made me want to look out for myself and it made me want to take from him, because I couldn't think of a single way I could make it these days without draining energy and happiness and positivity from others because I was looking into my own stores and not only coming up empty, but deficit.
I pressed my body harder against him. Not just where my chest was pressing against his from the hug but everywhere. I pushed him back, so we weren't kneeling next to each other anymore but so he was on his back and I fell on top of him, sliding up his body until my mouth could match up with his, so just moving it forward would let me catch his lips. Though he didn't stop me, I knew it was just because he was still clueless what I was doing. Innocent. I wasn't sure where I was headed either but all of a sudden I was like a car with the breaks cut speeding down a mountain.
I wasn't about to stop.
"Ellie…?" He said slowly, though his voice caught. His tone was questioning, but he still trusted me, letting me push him down. Maybe he thought it was still innocent and I just wanted him to hold me until I fell asleep on the ground. But my motives were nowhere near as pure as that. One of my legs fell between his and my thigh rested lightly on his groin.
I knew he could feel it.
"I want you." I murmured softly. I didn't think about Fi, though Homer and her weren't together, or about Lee, who had betrayed me in all ways that someone can be betrayed. This wasn't about cheating or payback. It was just an escape and Homer was … Homer. Maybe it was just because he was the one there, or I'd have fallen into Lee's arms instead. But Homer wasn't just a willing body. If that was all I was after, I could have gone and found Lee. Homer wasn't willing but I chose him anyway. I wanted him, not Lee and I don't know why.
"Els… we shouldn't do this… Ellie…"
I didn't listen and instead, kissed him. I pushed my hands into his hair and let them run through the shaggy dark mop. I could feel the shock running through his body, like an engine when you turn the key, but he didn't kiss me back, though I kissed him harder. He didn't push me away though and that gave me confidence. I kept kissing, marveling at the way his lips felt, soft despite being dry and cracked, like all of ours.
"Please." I whispered into the hollow of his throat, where I buried my head and covered it with a line of kisses. The rough, whiskered skin there was different to what was used to with Lee, but it was good. I could feel Homer's Adam's apple moving rapidly under my lips, especially when I focused there, sucking the spot until a light mark rose, even against his dark tanned skin.
Homer was still hesitating but he didn't make me move. It wouldn't have taken much for him to roll or push me off. "Ellie, what are we doing—?" His voice was ragged. "This is a bad id-ah-h." He ground out, his voice rising at the end as I bit him sharply.
"Don't be the good guy tonight, okay?" I pleaded softly, just wanting him to make it all go away. I pressed my body harder against him, where I knew he'd feel it most. Homer never comes across as the sort of guy who treats girl's right. In a way, that's true. He's never going to open a door for you or say 'ladies first' or let you win a competition or game on purpose, but he'd never take advantage. If you needed a jacket and were freezing your ass off and he had a coat on, he'd give his to you. He'd probably annoy you like hell about it and joke about you forgetting yours and he wouldn't do any of the romantic, draping it across your shoulders stuff, but he'd give it to you without even thinking about himself for a second. That's just the kind of guy Homer is but I didn't want that right now. Or I did. I wanted him to do what I wanted and I wanted him to just do it for me but I didn't want him to not do it because he thought I didn't really want it. Convoluted as that is, I knew what I was talking about.
I tried to give him incentive. I thought he would want me. Maybe he doesn't like me in that sort of way – I don't know if that's how I feel for him either –but I still know he's really good looking. I like his body and I've sure thought about having that against me before. Now I just had to hope he had thoughts like that for me.
And judging from what I could feel against my thigh, he did. I pulled one hand from his hair and put it between us, brushing it down his body, like the frigid test gone X-rated. When I got lower I didn't hesitate, that was after all why I was there. I reached between his legs and felt him, rubbing through the thin material of shorts. He jerked under me when I made contact and for a moment his eyes shuttered closed and his breath hitched.
"Ellie." His voice had lowered, and it was huskier than I'd ever hear it. "You need to stop…" The words were ground out, as I still touched him.
"Homer, you want this." I pleaded softly. "So do I. I want this. You're my best friend and I swear to God I want you." I kissed him again, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to speak, using my tongue to deepen the kiss before breaking it off again to speak. "Just don't think okay? Think tomorrow or think later, just… don't think now please." I whispered again. Not in my usual vocabulary for Homer. I pulled one of his hands and lifted up off him a little, so his hand could be pressed over my breast. He groaned and my heartbeat grew quicker as his palm moved over it, like he couldn't control it. I kissed him encouragingly, letting the air escape my mouth as I dwelled in the pleasure of it. His rough, calloused hand felt better than I had imagined it would. Where his palm scraped down the collar of my shirt his fingers brushed skin and I shuddered from the way it covered me in goosebumps. Finally, this time when I kissed him fiercely, he kissed back. Not like Lee or like Steve but like Homer and it was exciting and my heart hammered in my chest only this time it wasn't because of adrenaline caused by running from enemy soldiers shooting or being scared out of my mind while waiting to set off a bomb but just because of excitement and pleasure. It made for a nice change. "Just feel." I whispered.
I sat up for a moment, pulling my leg out from between Homer's, pushing the door closed as it extended and straddled his stomach, relishing in the way I could put all my weight there and not have to about being too heavy, the way I did with Lee who just wasn't built the same way Homer was. I pulled my T-shirt off and tried to wriggle out of my jeans. I was impatient. My bra undid with a quick clip and I shrugged the straps down, letting it fall. Chucking it away, I pressed my naked chest against him.
He began to kiss there, over my collarbone. I pulled my body up to encourage him to go further down, biting my lip to keep from crying out when his lips found the most sensitive place on my breast and sucked there. I had to press my lips tightly together to prevent any more cries escaping, arching my back instead to express myself, as I didn't know how much sound could travel through the walls, old and sturdy though this house was.
There was a feeling of unbeliveabilty to it. Sex with Homer in my grandmother's house. But still, I felt real and I felt alive and for once it didn't feel hazy. I was sharp and I could see the dirt and feel the cuts but I didn't see blood or fiery explosions or limbs or broken bodies, just Homer who'd begun to heat up under me.
I pulled my jeans off, my undies with them. The room was dim, with only the moon through the window giving light but my white skin was still prominent against the darkness. Homer was looking vaguely towards the realms of overwhelmed, even as his hands brushed lower over my hips.
"You know I haven't – done this… be – before."
He gasped, as my hand tightened around the base of his erection. I paused though didn't take my hand away as my mind raced. Homer was still a virgin? He and Fi hadn't done it? All of a sudden I felt helpless and grasping.
Sleeping with Homer for selfish reasons was one thing, and I knew I'd feel guilty and regret it and everything in the morning, but could I waste Homer's first time on someone who wasn't even thinking about him, not really? Should I really do this? I hadn't thought anything could derail me by that point, as I sat over him, naked and trembling for more.
"I… do you…. are you sure you want to do this?"
The tables had turned. Homer just gave me a look. He wasn't shocked anymore, but rather I'd fully turned him around and now he did want it. He was obviously aroused; hungry for more. Maybe it was just lust that made him want it now and that was my fault, that he was thinking with his dick instead of his head but was it really better to give him a serious case of blue balls now, not when I'd started this and I still wanted it just as much as he did?
"I want to Ellie. I'm making my own decisions, I'm a big boy." He said intently, though his heartbeat hammering under mine conflicted with his calmness. His brown eyes with his pupils totally blown and dilated focused on me. But mainly I was just in shock, and the unreal feeling in the room only grew. Had I ever thought that I'd be the one to take Homer's virginity? Bad-boy Homer? Not in a million years, at least not without him taking mine with it. And that was never going to happen, not since I lost it to Lee. But I felt new determination. I knew I'd been thinking selfishly, but now I had to think of Homer. This had to be special now. It had to be better than the best and that was up to me. Because even if this wasn't us in love, there was love involved. Bundles of it. Truckloads.
I pulled Homer's shirt off, loving the brown skin underneath and moving my hands over it lightly, brushing it with the pads of my fingers slowly before moving down to his pants, hesitating even as he gave me an impatient look. I couldn't help treating him fragile now, even though only minutes earlier I was practically trying to devour him. I kissed him hard and he kissed back and it was good and I just wanted to keep going forever, and when his hands moved lower until they were causing me to writhe and gasp out loud. His eyes focused on me and for a moment I saw alarm. "Did I – are you –"
"Good sounds." I breathed out, but I knew I had to stop forgetting he hadn't done this before. "Definitely good sounds." We had stripped of the last of our clothes and once we were both naked there was only one way to go. Homer was looking a little hesitant so I took lead again. With Homer, it was still always my favourite way to be and right now he wasn't about to stop me. Having him look so unsure was actually kind of sweet, and I felt a rush of affection towards my best friend. No one could be as big a dickhead but still have as many friends as Homer, or have such a big heart but never show it. No one could ever surprise me as often.
He looked like he was going to roll us over but I pushed his shoulders back and he let me.
"I'll be on top, okay?" I whispered.
His eyes widened but they were trusting and I loved the feeling, loved feeling powerful, loved that I was going to feel really good soon and that I was going to make Homer feel it too. With a quick fumble though Homer's wallet, I found a condom and ripped it open quickly, pulling it over Homer as he rolled his head back and his breath came unevenly from my ministrations. I'm not going to say that I didn't enjoy that.
I pulled up until I was over him, ready to lower myself. He stared at me, a light sheen of sweat visible. His look was one of need. I sunk onto him, stretching me even though I was more than ready. There was a pause then, me unsure, but loving the feeling of him inside me, and Homer shuddering lightly. It was one of those moments when you really feel a connection to someone, deeper and stronger than ever. I could feel his chest moving rapidly under me. I kissed him lightly as his hands moved to my hips and tried to make me move. That was good enough for me and I began to ride him as Homer grinded his hips, pushing up as I moved down, moving him into me further than anyone'd ever gone before.
And it was good. Really, really good.
I thought that this would be when it got angry. I thought I just wanted a body, to lose myself, to just feel without thinking, or maybe to get mad, to grieve what we'd done and the blood on our hands but it wasn't. Homer reached up to kiss me still, even in the middle of it. His hands gliding over me weren't impersonal but they were intimate and comforting. The words tumbling from my mouth weren't just sounds of pleasure but of love. At the very least, closeness. I wasn't used to speaking during sex but it wasn't hard with Homer. Well not hard to talk anyway…
"Homer, please. Oh god, like that. That's good, you're good—fu—u—ck." I whispered as we slowly rocked and his grip around me tightened, pulling me closer. "Love you…love you, do that again- ahh."
I made a little noise, and when Homer hit that spot again, my stomach tightened like knots were forming and I clenched around him. His hand pulled up and reached into my hair, pulling my head down to his and he kissed me fiercely as I kept moving back and forth. I let out a low groan, grinding against him, his thrusts sending shoots of pleasure through me until I finally climaxed, falling forward to rest against him as he continued to thrust his hips only a couple more times before he too began convulsing.
"Ellie." He groaned, his voice so deep that I could hardly even make out the words. I shook lightly, feeling weak all of a sudden as I lay draped over him, still trembling with the aftershocks. Homer slipped out of me and his arms came to wrap around me, holding me tightly and I stayed pressed against him, unable to help to way my lips curved upwards as I buried my face into his chest.
Homer's arms wrapped me up as we calmed down. I was content there but I knew it wouldn't last long. I knew once we cooled down, the inevitable would begin. For once I wished things could just stay nice and we'd never have to talk about it.
Homer finally cleared his throat. He let me go and I turned to look at him. The conversation where Homer would remember that he hadn't wanted this; that I'd pretty much taken advantage.
My mouth went dry and I said the first thing I could think of.
"I'm sorry."
I was so scared he was going to hate me. Now I'd remembered all the reasons I was against anyone coupling up; because it creates fractures between us. I almost thought I would faint, frightened out of my mind. Could I survive without Homer? Even after this, with the cobwebs maybe, hopefully, finally expelled from my brain, if I lost him, how could I keep it up? How long could a vow to keep from drifting last if he hated me? But Homer shook his head.
"That's not what-…." He trailed off.
Homer disentangled himself from me, and reached for his clothes and as I watched, stunned, he pulled his shirt on followed by his pants. Finally he said, "Why be sorry?"
"Because your first time shouldn't have been like that." I said after a pause, looking into his eyes. He actually grinned, a little of the tension in his features lifted.
"I'm sure it could have been worse Ellie."
"I can't think of how." I said, guilt invading me. "Here, during the war, while we're covered in god knows what…on the floor-" Homer cut me off after that.
"The sex could have sucked."
He laughed and I even managed a smile. Considering my record lately for smiling lately, I thought that was pretty good.
"So you're saying it didn't?" I said lightly. "Is that a compliment?"
"For two manic depressives in your grandmothers house with the others just down the hall? Yeah. It was good." He paused and I thought we were actually having a nice moment before he ruined it, typical Homer. "But did you know that you have a freckle right on your-" I punched him in the chest with the hand that still had been absently drawing lines over it. "Ouch! God Ellie, violent."
"No other way when it comes to you." I muttered. Homer's eyes sparkled for a second. I forgot I was feeling guilty. Maybe that's why he said it.
"Always took you for a dominatrix. Hot." He reached out and pushed me lightly. I rolled my eyes. Homer was a virgin half an hour ago and now he acted like the most knowledgeable guy out there. Typical.
"Before you rudely interrupted me, I was actually going to say that you're actually pretty beautiful Ellie." My mouth dropped open and I wondered if Homer would ever stop doing and saying things I didn't expect. His voice was incredibly casual, like he said things like that to me all the time.
"And that's a new revelation for you is it?" I tried to answer coolly but we both knew I was pleased. It wasn't often I felt even in the realm of beautiful these days.
"Well now that you mention it…" He said casually. "That time you flashed me at Year Six camp I was going to say something but after you ran into Mr Coles and got us both nearly suspended I changed my mind." The memory—something nothing short of electro shock therapy would be able to make me forget—was that on that topless run to the flagpole for a dare, Homer had walked straight into my path and had seen everything before I could cover up. That made for an awkward month between us. But now the memory just made me laugh, that I was so young and silly and innocent and now here I was right after practically jumping my best friend, in the middle of a war, with blood on my hands but actually feeling happy about it. The jumping, not the blood.
"So I'm only pretty when I'm topless, it that it?" I said wryly. Homer laughed but nodded sagely.
"Well Ellie, we both know your face could sour milk. I'm only friends with you so I can look better in comparison." You would think a comment like that would sting or at least get a punch in retaliation but as he spoke, his fingers had traced over my face, and his thumb pressed against my bottom lip, as though I was gorgeous. I couldn't bring myself to make him stop. The playful touching actually made my face heat up into a blush. I rolled my eyes.
But since he was joking, and he knew I knew it, that was actually a Homer compliment. I think.
"You're such an ass."
My voice was shaky, and not from anger or hurt but from the way his fingers moved over me with such gentleness made my stomach fill with butterflies, something I thought I'd never feel again – something so warm and positive.
I pulled on my own clothes, though it felt awkward with my legs still sticky and Homer's eyes following me. I stood next to the door and put my hand on the handle before I turned around.
"Homer…" I said after a moment of hesitation. He's not the easiest person to have a serious conversation with, but I knew it needed to be said. I looked right at him. "Thank you." I wasn't sure that was the right thing to say but I explained. "Not just for – you know – but for just being a great friend. I… you usually are and sometimes I'm just so used to you being there for me that sometimes I forget but just for what it's worth…thank you." Once again, Homer had really helped me.
We didn't fall in love or anything, but in some ways maybe we didn't need to. The sex was warm, and it was loving, even if it was only in the friendship way. But I suppose what I mean is that it was about more than sex. Maybe it wasn't even about the sex at all. It was about the closeness and the connection and the intimacy and the support and it made me remember that I had friends, including a best friend that would do anything to stop me from forgetting it.
Homer reminded me that I wasn't alone. The next time something innocuous threatened to let the horrors overflow and I had to struggle to get a grip, Homer did notice and he placed his hand over mine, and his warm grip calmed me down.
Neither of us forgot what happened, but I don't think it was the sex that was what made that night so important. I think lately we've all forgotten how to look after each other. Maybe even since Robyn died. She always helped us remember and afterward she died, it became too hard.
We're all hurting. All drowning. But sometimes it just takes little things to help us find solid ground again. Maybe it doesn't work forever, or maybe it isn't always enough, but its something. It's more than I had, and what I learnt, Homer taught to me. Sometimes helping someone else doesn't have to take energy away from you, maybe it's just helping them find their own again.
The one thing we always had over other military groups was that we loved each other. Hundreds of times during this war we've want to give up, or sit down on the ground and refuse to move until the war was over, but the others have been able to pick us back up. And maybe it's just this moment that I feel hopeful, and tomorrow I'll be back in a dark hole but I think maybe we can get through this. I can't think of anything tougher, but if Homer's still got my back and I can hold Fi's hand and Lee and Kevin are around me too, well, I think that's pretty powerful.
A/N: So, here it is. Not my first TWTWB fanfiction and hopefully not my last but the first one I've decided to publish here. The first smut I've ever included as part of a story as well. Hopefully it came out okay. If you read this and like it, a review would really mean a lot. If you're a writer yourself, you know how motivating getting a review is, and if you're not, take my word for it. If you didn't like it, constructive criticism is welcome. How else can I improve?
Thanks for reading! ~Lilypadandprongs4eva