Alright, here goes the long chapter :D

Drakkon part 3

It was dark and eerily quiet as Drakkon's eyes opened. He was in a cold, thick forest. White fog rolled underfoot as he got to his feet. No chirping crickets, singing birds, hooting owls, not even the faint rustle of trees or bush alive with small rodents. Tho only sound was that of his own heartbeat and the rumbling of the dark thunder clouds in the deep violet, starless sky above. This alone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight as he strained his eyes against the fog surrounding him. As he began to cautiously walk forward, his feet felt heavy, as if urging him to stay still. This request went ignored, however, when a piercing scream rended the silence and Drakkon set off running towards it.

As he ran, roots began to spring from the ground, trying to trip him, to slow him down. A few caused him to falter, yet he kept his quick strides, agilely jumping over the twisting roots. The fog itself joined in next, rising to envelop him in a blinding white cloud. He pressed on, straining his ears for any sound to guide him. The scream sounded again, and he darted left for it. It's source was the only thing on his side. The fog settled a bit, but still sufficiently obscured his vision enough so he could barely make out objects even a few feet in front of him. Rain suddenly began to fall, hard enough to nearly hurt, and the trees themselves came to life. They shifted and moved, trying to block his path as they swung their branches at him. He cursed, though his own voice was apparently among the sounds deafened in the area. The screams had stopped, forcing Drakkon to continue upon intuition alone.

Then, the fog cleared enough to allow him view of a large tree directly in front of him, and he came sliding to a halt in front of it. As he looked up, he could see the mangled and unconscious body of Nyteshayde dangling from a limb high in the tree. He attempted to call to her, but his voice still failed him. With a second to catch his breath and prepare himself, he leapt into the tree, starting to climb. He climbed for quite a while, what felt like miles, before he looked up again. She was still just as far away as when he began. As he looked down, he could see he was very far away from the ground, as well. The tree seemed to have been growing as he climbed. He looked back to the branch, but Nyteshayde's body was gone.

Suddenly, a dark, booming laugh erupted from the silence and the tree jerked, nearly causing him to loose his grip. Then, the tree began to shoot back down into the ground so quickly that the wind was breaking off branches as it went. In a panic, Drakkon tried to climb higher, jumping, and even teleporting, from branch to branch. The ground was coming up fast, and, as Drakkon leapt from a branch, another snapped off and rammed into him, knocking him from the tree completely. He flailed slightly as he fell quickly to the ground. He hit hard and tumbled, hissing in pain as the dark laugh continued. Then, Drakkon looked up to see a tall, neigh, giant Night Elf looking down at him, a twisted , malicious grin splayed on his features and the limp body of Nyteshayde in his hand. Drakkon scrambled to his feet below the elf, attempting spells that refused to manifest.

"You're still just as pathetic and useless as you were when you were a child!" The Night Elf cackled, a deep, demonic undertone to his voice. Drakkon attempted to yell, but still, his voice was silenced. Instead, his mouth simply formed the hate-filled words I'll fucking kill you, Kil'sha! As Kil'sha laughed again, roots sprung from the ground, wrapping around Drakkon's limbs and pulling him to the ground with a hard thump."Just sit there and watch like a good little boy!" Kil'sha said. At that moment, Nyteshayde sprung to life in his hand, letting out an agonized scream as large wounds ripped through her flesh by an invisible source. Drakkon tried to yell again as he struggled wildly against the roots. Kil'sha laughed again, dangling Nyteshayde in front of his to give Drakkon a clear view of her panic and pain.

Then, Kil'sha flipped her around, placing her in his giant mouth and swallowing her whole before lifting up a foot to crush Drakkon. As it quickly rushed down at him, Drakkon struggled even more against the roots, letting out a yell until finally...

"Drakkon! Drakkon!" The soft, female voice invaded his mind as the scene before him faded away as his bright green eyes opened into darkness again. The first thing he noticed was his hear pounding out of his chest and the struggle it took even to breathe. The second thing he noticed was that he was in a house, in a room, on a soft, comfortable bed. Not in a cold, dark forest. No roots restraining him, and no giant Kil'sha about to stomp him flat. His hand flew to his chest to snatch the gentle, comforting hand that rested there. He had been having a nightmare.

"Are you alright?" Jaimee asked from the darkness beside him. He released her hand and sat up, struggling to catch his breath as he nodded. He sent a small spell of fire to light the candle beside the bed. He had enough darkness for one night. Jaimee sat on the edge of his bed, concern deep in her features.

"I'm fine." He said, attempting to sound reassuring, though his voice came out shaky.

"Are you sure?" She asked. "I... Could hear you from all the way downstairs." She tried cautiously. "I mean... This is the first I've seen you sleep through the night, and you..." She trailed off. He wasn't paying attention. He was far too fixated on trying to calm himself and drive unwanted memories away. He had, however, caught the gist of what she had said, and she had no idea. This nightmare had been one of the better ones.

"I'm fine." He repeated, his voice finally finding it's balance. His tone suggested for her to leave, but she hesitated.

"You can talk to me, you know." She breathed, and his eyes locked to hers.

"There's nothing to tell." He said. "Just a bad dream." The look in her eyes suggested she knew differently, but she didn't vocalize it.

"Do you want to come downstairs? I can make you a cup of tea to calm your nerves." She asked. He nodded, and she smiled slightly as she got to her feet and left for the kitchen. After a few more deep breaths, he rose from the bed to follow. The light from the kitchen was welcomed as he walked into it, and the smell of hot tea wafted delightfully through the air. Jaimee was pouring it into two small cups and, as she turned from the counter, her eyes widened in shock.

"Drakkon, you're bleeding!" She gasped, setting the tea on the table and taking a few steps forward. Drakkon glanced down to see that she was right. There was a large spot of red growing on the chest of his shirt, near his shoulder.

"Shit." He breathed.

"Here, sit down, let me look at it." She said, leading him to the table and gesturing for him to sit. She gave him a look, and he hesitantly removed his shirt. As the wound was revealed, Jaimee gasped. He had a large, deep scar that ran from his collarbone down across his chest at a diagonal slice. As she moved to look at his back, the scar repeated itself. It appeared that the initial wound had nearly severed his arm off. The scar had torn open in several places, front and back, and was bleeding quite a bit. She was surprised at his lack of pain in the given situation.

"How did this happen?" She breathed, taking a cloth from a drawer to dab away the blood.

"It was a long time ago." He answered. The scar ripping open had been a new addition to the nightmares and, frankly, had him baffled. "I got stabbed." He finished, and her eyes found his with concern.

"Stabbed? Elune... Who stabbed you? How long ago?" She asked, setting the clothh on the table to twist a healing spell between her fingers.

"It was..." He started. "Just a long time ago. It doesn't matter." As the cool spell hit his flesh, he flinched, feeling the fibers of his sking mold themselves back together quickly. She wiped it again with the cloth before moving to her feet again.

"You're a mystery. You know that?" She said as she sat in the chair across from him. He shrugged as he used the cloth to wipe away what he could of the blood on his shirt before tugging it back on. When he looked up to her, she had her head cocked to the side slightly, watching him as if trying to evaluate him. This made him uneasy, and he shifted in his seat.

"Why do you hide from everyone, Drakkon?" She asked quietly after a while of the two sipping tea in silence.

"Why do you?" He retaliated, locking eyes with her. He hadn't forgotten when he saw her crying in the kitchen a few months back. He also had no doubt this was what she was doing when she heard him dreaming. At his retort, her eyes fell to her mug of tea.

"Because it's safer for me if I do." She said.

"And it's safer for everyone if I do." He replied, and her eyes met his with the faint sparkle of tears in them. This made him flinch inwardly. Had he hurt her, somehow?

"Why can't you trust me?" She asked, though he knew her tears were not for this reason. He sighed.

"I can't trust anyone." He said. She nodded slightly, going back to her tea. This had him intrigued. He could tell she was fishing for information, but lost interest when it came at the cost of having to reveal her own secrets. This meant she had something grand to hide, and he found himself curious. He did not, however, know how to go about gathering those secrets without blowing his cover. Also, whether he wanted to admit it, he valued her company. He didn't want to scare her off by letting her see into his deranged mind.

"If I tell you something..." He began, gaining her attention. "Something about myself, any one question you want answered... Would you answer one for me?" He asked. This was it. If she was curious enough, then he could find out what she was hiding. She took a moment to consider, before giving a nod.

"But only if I get a true explanation, and not just a few simple words." She said.

"Same for you?" She nodded. "Agreed."

"How did you get that scar?" She asked. He took a while to prepare the answer, weeding out anything he may say that could give away who he truly was.

"When I was young..." He started, and a sudden, unwanted sinking feeling overtook him. "My mother was... Captured, and put into a cell with a..." He struggled, biting back all the vulgar words that rushed to mind. "A very bad guy. I had to watch him hurt her and I couldn't do anything about it. I'd never felt so powerless." He said. "I grabbed a sword from someone else that was there and attacked him through the bars, to try to save her. He got it away from me and..." He trailed, simply gesturing to his shoulder.

"Was she alright?" Jaimee breathed, and he looked up to her. She had been hanging on every word.

"Yeah, she... My father was able to get the door open and get him away from her."

"Thank Elune for your father." She said, sounding relieved. He couldn't help the short snort of laughter that escaped him upon hearing her say those words. She gave a slightly startled look to him, and he waved it off.

"You..." He tried. "I've never heard anyone say that about him before but, yeah, I guess you're right." It was her turn, and he knew she wouldn't enjoy it. She sat anxiously waiting, as if she already knew what he was going to ask. The tears were already welling in her eyes. He faltered.

"Why..." He paused. "Why do you have so many cats?" He asked. As if knowing it was being talked about, one looked up from the floor at Drakkon's feet and purred. As much as he would have hated to admit it out loud, the wide, relieved smile that broke across her features was much more satisfying than the answer to the question he wanted to ask would have been.

"I just." She started, standing from the table and taking both their mugs to the sink. "I just love cats. I don't really have a long explanation for it." She said as she turned back to face him. He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It seemed to fade as quickly as it came however, appearing as more of a twitch, rather than a smile. He rose from the chair and pushed it in as she approached him, and a sense of slight impending doom set in as it always did when someone came too close. It was realized when she wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. He froze, unaware of how to handle the situation. She ended it quickly, however. She knew him far better than he thought.

"Thank you." She said with a smile, and he offered a nod. "Well, I guess it's back to bed, then." She said as she started past him.

"I'm just going to... clean... or something." He ended with his voice trailing off. He had no desire to sleep anymore, that night. She paused, looking at him with concern.

"You can't hide from sleep forever, Drakkon." She tried. "You can't hide from nightmares. They'll catch up to you. Your body needs sleep." He hesitated. "Come on." She smiled slightly. "I'll sit in there until you fall asleep." There was no arguing with her as she gestured for him to follow. She wasn't going to let up until he at least tried. He felt like a child as he laid down in bed and she sat on it beside him.

"When I was very young, my mother used to do this for me when I had nightmares. It helped me sleep just knowing she was there to protect me." She finished, a slight sadness in her voice.

"But you don;t fight, Darkwing." He said, and she chuckled.

"I don't fight unless there's a good reason." She corrected, putting out the candle and settling back against the headboard. Reluctantly, he closed his eyes and tried to look as though he was sleeping. They stayed that way for a while before he felt her shift. His hopes of her finally retreating to her own room were dashed, however, when she settled in beside him. She was just getting more comfortable.

"I now you're not sleeping." She breathed, and he let out an exasperated sigh that made her giggle.

"I'm not tired."

"The bags under your eyes suggest otherwise." She said, and he opened his eyes to look over at her.

"I've had enough sleep to survive." He said, and she gave him a look as if to say just barely. "You don;t understand what it's like."

"Who says I don't?" She asked, quirking a brow. "I've had my fare share of nightmares, believe me. The trick is not to let them get to you. They aren't real."

"Try telling that to my shoulder." At this, she faltered.

"Well, you were thrashing around quite a bit." She attempted.

"Not bad enough to break open scar tissue." More silence, as she tried to search for an explination.

"What if I promise to wake you up the second you start to have a nightmare?" She said after a while of silence. He began to protest, but she huffed. "I promise. Please, I'd feel better."

"Alright, fine." He gave in with a heavy sigh as he settled back into bed and closed his eyes.