I wrote a Berserk drabble. I also do not own Berserk. That is all :)
Contrary to what one might think, Guts didn't always have bad dreams.
They weren't often, but sometimes, when he laid his head down to catch a few hours' rest, the images that played behind his eyes were not meant to torment him- not that they actually succeeded in that regard.
The theme of these happy dreams was always the same.
Casca. Always Casca. But not as she was now; the Casca of his dreams was as she had been before- brave and strong-willed, loving and hotheaded all at once.
In these dreams, he and Casca lived together. Usually in a little cottage somewhere deep in the woods, like something out of a child's bedtime story. Sometimes it was just the two of them, without a worry and with all the time in the world. Sometimes there was a child to greet him at the door when he returned from fishing or hunting, grinning from ear to ear and calling him 'Papa' in a sweet little voice.
He would get to sit back and relax, warming himself in front of the fireplace while Casca simmered some stew out of whatever he caught. She would sit in his lap and kiss him sweetly and whisper sweet nonsense in his ears.
Even after he woke up, the images would play in his head and torment him for the rest of the night. He would have to get up in the morning and face the way that Casca had become.
He would rather have the nightmares.