Soldier was running from her, telling her to stay put and stay hidden. His tin arms and leg were shrieking as the rusted joints tried to move fast enough. The rain was relentless, and the red rust was everywhere, even on his hat. The bright yellow "SOL" was tinged orange from the bright red rust that ran down the sides and dripped off the brim.

Scarlett was running away from something, and Soldier was trying to protect her, but the rust was sticking him to the ground. Diamante suddenly loomed up behind them, laughing as he drew his weapon. The gun was shiny and black, and it spat the bullet out with a belch of smoke and fire. The bullet tore through the woman and toy and left them riddled with holes. The blood mixed with the rust and ran over the ground as Soldier's arms still tried to protect Scarlet, and Rebecca realized the shrieking was her.

"Wake up!"

Rebecca groped for her sword, a breathless and muted scream still in the back of her throat, and grabbed onto soft sheets and pillows. She blinked in the sudden lamplight, and stared blankly at the stone ceiling above her. It wasn't the Colosseum, it wasn't the broken down hut in Dressrosa, and it wasn't the cottage in the fields. She blinked a few times and let her breath out in a single gasp, sinking back into the bedding as her eyes adjusted. She was in the palace.

"That nightmare scared me, and I wasn't even having it."

Rebecca started, and rolled over to her left. Cavendish, his hair rumpled and the imprints from wrinkles in the sheets pressed in his face, pushed her sweaty bangs from her forehead and rested his hand on her cheek.

Her heart was still beating as if she had just run a mile, and she tried to breathe deeply. She told herself it was just a nightmare, and she was safe in bed. But when she reminded herself it was a bad dream she inadvertently remembered it in all its vivid details, and she started to cry.

The tears were immediate and rolled down her cheeks and over Cavendish's hand as she struggled to get the images out of her mind. Cavendish, who looked nothing but concerned, shimmied over in their bed so he could wrap his arms around her and whisper soothing things in her ear.

Rebecca buried her face into his soft pyjama shirt and clung to him, trying to match her breaths to his heartbeat. After a few minutes she could breathe without gulping for air, and Cavendish was only murmuring the odd reassurance rather than a running litany.

She tentatively uncurled her fingers from his collar, and looked up at him with a weak smile.

"Sorry." She whispered, mouth dry.

"Don't be." Cavendish sat up and reached over her to grab the water pitcher from her nightstand. She slowly pushed herself upright, and once she was settled he handed it to her. She drank straight from the rim, and smiled crookedly at him being so casual. Even in the night he usually would have gotten a cup. She sighed, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Cavendish made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat and handed her a handkerchief before groping around on the nightstand for a cup. Once he found one, he filled it and handed it to her, taking the pitcher back.

She couldn't tell if it was just the lamplight, but his eyes looked bloodshot. She swished the water around her mouth and swallowed, taking another deep breath.

"Did I scream?"

He snorted, and refilled her cup before drinking the rest of the water straight from the pitcher himself.

"Indeed you did." He took the handkerchief from her lap where she had let it fall and wiped her face for her, gently dabbing around her eyes. His eyes were definitely bloodshot, but it didn't affect the concern they showed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She wrung the blanket in her hands, twisting the edge into a rope. "It was just a nightmare."

"If it was 'just' a nightmare, it wouldn't have taken me ten minutes to wake you."

He frowned and took her hands in his, and she gratefully squeezed them tight. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles in a slow, soothing motion, and hummed one of her favourite songs under his breath. It was one her aunt often danced to even after Dolflamingo's defeat, and Rebecca felt herself tearing up again.

"It was Diamante." She said, looking down at their intertwined hands. "He was killing my parents."

Cavendish's lips thinned to a hard line, and his hands stilled.

"It's unfortunate that you father dealt with him so... definitively." Cavendish told her, his voice strained. "Or I would do to Diamante's face what I used to do to wanted posters."

Rebecca winced, remembering full well his collection of pictures that had been more holes than paper. A tiny, bloodthirsty part of her relished the image before she shook her head.

"He already got what he deserved."

Cavendish made a faint 'hmph', and brought her hands up to his lips so he could kiss both.

"Go wash up. You won't sleep well as sweaty as you are."

Smiling at his mothering, Rebecca kissed his cheek and pushed back the blankets. She crawled off their bed and went into the small washroom attached to their quarters, and filled the sink with hot water. As she washed her face, she realized that she should probably change clothes as well. She hadn't realized how much she had sweat when she was still in the warmth of the bed.

"Um, Cavendish?"

"Yes?"

"Can you bring me a nightgown to change in to?"

"I already hung one on the doorknob for you."

Rebecca opened the washroom door and pulled the light cotton shift off the knob. Cavendish had aptly picked one of the ones she usually wore during the hottest parts of summer, which had a low neckline and no sleeves. It wouldn't be too warm or constricting, and she gratefully finished washing up and changed into it.

Cavendish had already fixed and straightened out the bedding, and was fussing around in his wardrobe when she came out of the washroom. She yawned, and climbed into their bed to wait for him. After a couple minutes he finally emerged from within his many articles of clothing, looking even more rumpled than when he had woken her but significantly happier.

"Here." He said, handing her a small cloth packet as he slid under the covers.

"What is it?"

"Lavender." The blond yawned into his back of his hand and fluffed both of their pillows. "I usually use it to keep my clothes smelling fresh, but it helps with relaxation too."

"So that's why you smell so nice." Rebecca laughed sleepily and tucked the packet under her pillow. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Cavendish turned out the light and lay down, and Rebecca immediately snuggled into him. The vividness of the nightmare faded with each breath she took, and soon it was just a vague memory in the back of her mind. She rubbed her cheek against Cavendish's silk shirt, and hummed happily into his chest as their feet tangled together under the covers.

"Love you."

"Of course you do."

He groaned when she jabbed him sharply in the ribs, and he tried to catch hold of her wrist. Rebecca wiggled out of his grip and jabbed him again, aiming for the slightly ticklish spot he had in his waist. With a strangled laugh he caught hold of her hand again and held her firmly, kissing her palm. After he pressed a second kiss into her hand, he pulled her tightly to him and he buried his face into her hair so only she could hear him whisper.

"Love you too."

(Just was thinking about Rebecca and Cavendish sharing a bed and what would happen if Rebecca had a nightmare. Poor girl certainly has seen enough things to be nightmare fodder for a while.)