A/N: Hope you're all doing well.

Summary: While staying at an inn, Akela sleepwalks, leaving a very uneasy Geralt to come and find her.

Geralt of Rivia shot up in bed the moment the first knock at the door sounded in the room. He reached under his pillow and pulled out the dagger with practised ease, whipping it in front of him with wide eyes ready for anything.

The knock echoed again, along with an almost frantic "Mister Witcher!" and he relaxed the smallest of amounts, realising there seemed to be no visible danger. That relaxation was extremely short-lived, however, as the moment he instinctively turned his head to the space next to him in bed and noticed it was empty, that fear rose up in his chest once more like a phoenix from its ashes.

He spun his head around, eyes already having adapted to the darkness of the room, searching wildly. That hand rapped against the thin wood of the door and he snarled, shoving the blankets off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

The creaking floor felt like ice under his bare feet, but he ignored it, grabbing up his sword leaning by the bedside table and striding to the door. He opened it harshly, and a woman immediately stepped back, gasping a little, hand poised to knock yet again.

"What?" he snapped, a bite to his voice that would typically have sent anyone running. The woman, who he vaguely recognised as the owner of the inn's wife, took that as desperation, however, and quickly set to answering him.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Sir," she spoke quickly, "but- but I saw your daughter come down the stairs and head outside. I tried to stop her and ask if she was okay, but I think she must be sleepwalking as she didn't seem responsive at all."

Geralt's mind had begun whirring since the moment the woman began talking, and by the time she had finished, he had already slammed the door shut and started racing down the corridor, sword in hand, the woman lingering a little helplessly still by the door. If he wasn't so worried, he may have thanked her for the information, but his sole thought was on finding Akela and ensuring her safety, as it forever had been.

The woman had said she'd seen her go outside, and so he headed there once he reached the inn's downstairs, opening the door and stepping outside.

"Fuck," he breathed out once the bitter air hit him. His loose hair, tangled from his hours of sleep, blew about his face like a thick curtain as he walked briskly out into the cold, dark night. His sharp eyes began searching, darting this way and that, peering urgently through shadowy trees and along the cobbled paths that had stones digging unforgivably into his feet.

His main concern was that somebody would see a fifteen-year-old walking alone and vulnerable in the dead of night and view it as a perfect opportunity to grab her up and take her away. It was utterly quiet outside, save for the distant hooting of a barn owl and the snuffling of what was likely a family of foxes nearby, but that of course could never rule out the possibility that the one place a stranger happened to be was also coincidentally where Akela had ended up.

An irritated and slightly fearful noise wrangled from his throat as he stopped in the middle of a deserted path, twisting in a circle, his palms growing sweaty even in the frigid wind. The loose tunic he was wearing flapped in the breeze, and he was beginning to feel the first drops of an inevitable rainfall strike his skin.

For the first time in a long time he felt his heart race abnormally, pounding against his rib cage as he continued to check his surroundings. Sleepwalking. Never in Akela's life had she sleepwalked, and yet here she was, her first time, and she was scaring him nearly half to death!

When a quiet cry sliced through the silent air, he snapped his head around quickly, eyes just about making out the sight of someone stood by a tree. Quickly and with all the speed of experience, he ran, feeling his heart skip a beat and yet die down the smallest bit at the same time, likely relief from realising it was Akela. He made it to her quickly, dropping his sword to the floor once he was close enough. She clearly looked disoriented and she was holding her left leg slightly bent at the knee, a hand grasping at the wood of the tree bark beside her. Just like him, she was in her sleeping clothes, though he could see her lips bluing a little and she was trembling like a leaf.

He slowed when he was a few feet from her, taking in everything. She looked fine, as far as he could tell, apart from the obvious stunned uncertainty obscuring her face. Her eyes were glassy, likely due to the first of the tears brought on by sheer overpowering confusion, and he did not wish for them to get any glassier. He massively slowed his pace, watching her astutely.

Unsurprisingly, she jumped when she sensed someone beside her, and it took a few seconds for her to truly understand who it was, but the moment she did and a wave of realisation washed over her face, Geralt figured it safe enough to move a little closer. He'd heard somewhere that waking a sleepwalker wasn't entirely recommended, and for that reason he had been prepared to follow her until she woke herself, ensuring she didn't hurt herself or find herself in danger. Nevertheless, it seemed she'd moved past the stage of waking up, and he could only thank the stars that he'd made it to her in time for that.

He knelt to the ground – Akela was short enough to only stand a little higher than him when he was on his knees – and gently grasped her forearms, watching with a slightly creased forehead as she slowly looked around, supposedly attempting to make sense of her surroundings. She was frowning, and he could practically hear her heart racing like a rabbit before she spoke.

"Geralt…" she murmured dazedly. "I- I thought we slept at an inn."

Geralt rose both eyebrows, the hint of a betraying smile pulling at a corner of his lips. Akela shivered as a breeze blew past the both of them and he swiftly yet cautiously pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly in his hold and rubbing her back. She shuddered almost violently against him, tucking her head under his chin and shutting her eyes as her clouded mind worked away, turning stiff cogs and grinding rusty gears. She grasped onto his shirt, encasing her frozen hands in it to better warm them, not protesting in the least when he shifted a little to sit back against the tree she'd conveniently woken beside. She lay nested in his lap, a little ball of overwhelmed hesitancy, taking in her Witcher's warmth and trying to work out exactly where she was and why she couldn't remember making the journey there.

"You," Geralt said soothingly, still rubbing her back, "were sleepwalking. And you frightened me to Hell and back."

Akela opened her eyes, blinking. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He moved his legs, bending them slightly, and frowned when he saw a small patch of red on his trousers. Peering a little closer, he could tell it was blood, and he knew it had not come from him. He looked down at Akela, brushing hair back from her face. "Are you hurt?" he asked, remembering the little cry he'd heard earlier which had alerted him to where she was and the way she'd been holding her leg up. Before she could even answer, he slid his hand to her ankle and turned it gently. She winced against him, seeing the sharp stone sticking out from the sole of her foot just as he did. It must have been what had eventually woken he.

"This is what happens when you go outside without shoes on," he said not at all maliciously, expression softening when he saw Akela's face fall. "I was joking, 'Kela," he assured her. "But I need you to hold still while I pull this out." Her face fell even more at that, and she buried it into his chest with a pitiful whine. Geralt carded his fingers through her hair as a comfort while he shifted her slightly on his lap, holding her foot at an angle that would likely prove to be uncomfortable soon enough. It was a small stone, and he doubted it would need stitches or any further medical assistance than the strip of fabric he'd ripped from the bottom of his shirt to tie around her foot. The small amount of blood had only come from the sides of the wound, and it seemed to have stopped quickly.

Gently grasping the stone with two fingers and holding her head soothingly against his chest, he silently counted to three before tugging hard, pulling it free in a second and garnering no more than a tiny jerk and a quiet mewl of pain from the girl. He was quick, letting go of her for a mere moment in order to tie the makeshift bandage firmly around her foot, but his arm returned to encircle her a moment later.

More and more frosty drops of rain were falling from the visible storm clouds above, and Geralt knew he'd have to take Akela inside eventually, especially considering her body – and his, for that matter – wasn't getting much warmer, but he knew to move her now would only disorient her further.

"I didn't know I could sleepwalk," he heard her mumble a second later.

"Anyone can sleepwalk," he said.

"Did I really walk all the way out here while sleeping?"

Geralt huffed a short chuckle. "Apparently. A woman came knocking at the door, saying she'd seen you come outside."

She cuddled up further to him. "I feel weird."

He nodded. "Let yourself work it out," he told her lightly. "Your mind's not used to falling her in one place and waking in another." The teen sniffled and he sighed, leaning his head back against the tree and praising the little protection it offered the both of them from the wind and the oncoming rainstorm. No doubt it would be a sight to see by anyone who happened to walk outdoors – a man and a girl, both in sleeping clothes and barefoot, looking all but unruly, sitting against an oak tree in the stormy night – and so he was grateful for the fact everyone was sleeping.

"Sorry for scaring you," Akela muttered barely audibly, and he rose an eyebrow.

"It wasn't your fault," he assured her. "Though I still hope you won't be making a habit of this. Maybe I should tie you to the bed to make sure you don't wander off, hm?" He glanced down at her, amusement shining in his eyes, and she smiled tiredly, yawning.

"That seems a little much."

Geralt shrugged lightly. "Perhaps a cage," he suggested airily.

"You'd lock me in a cage?" She drearily opened her eyes to stare up at him accusingly.

"To save myself from being woken in the night and having to run out in the wind and the rain to find you?" He rose an eyebrow. "More likely than you think." A light giggle left her lips and he smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head. Life with a little companion certainly was a life to be reckoned with. It was never boring, that was for sure. Though of course, Akela didn't have to ask to know that he'd follow hrer to the ends of the earth, even while sleepwalking.

He jolted a little as a drop of rain splashed on his nose and peered up at the sky to see more tumbling down from the grey clouds. Sleeping outside more often than not of course meant he – and Akela, for that matter – was well accustomed to the trials and tribulations of bad weather, but when she'd been wandering outside for who knew how long, were slightly injured, and a warm bed was waiting inside for the both of them, there really was no reason to remain outside longer than necessary.

And so he moved, working past Akela's exhaustedly limp form in order to lift her up and into his arms before he stood to his feet, taking his sword in one hand and holding her with the other. Her own arms wrapped around his neck and she rested the side of her head against his shoulder, staying as close to the warmth his body still offered as possible.

He walked slowly, his feet beginning to twinge a little with each step but not finding himself overly bothered now he had his girl in his arms, and turned to look at her, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

"Let's get you back to bed, little traveller."