Prompts used:
- NO. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER
- NO. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I'M DYING - Head Trauma
- NO. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN - "I'll be right behind you"
- Alt prompt 10 - adrenaline crash

For once Ciri wished it was just one of her nightmares. She would wake and Geralt would be there to calm her. He was a strange man, closed off and sometimes harsh in his straightforward remarks, but he was also kind and she felt safe around him despite his strangeness. At first she didn't want to tell him about her dreams, thinking he would laugh and tell her she was too old for crying like that.

He found out anyway the first night she woke up screaming. He didn't laugh or dismiss her frights. He didn't push her either, didn't force her to talk, but simply stayed close and made sure she knew she wasn't alone.

But it wasn't a dream that woke her. She was pulled from slumber by Geralt shaking her arm, his gloved hand covering her mouth. He let go of her the moment he was sure she wouldn't make any noise and grabbed his sword.

"Ciri, I need you to climb up. Now," he whispered, already facing the entrance od the gorge.

"What?"

"Go up and hide."

"But-"

"I'll be right behind you! Go!"

The urgency in his voice left no place for discussion. She fled.

He had lied. She knew he had. Why had she run? She had climbed and climbed up the steep wall until she got to a clearing. Down there, where Geralt had stayed, something clashed and growled.

The girl shivered as the wind howled and carried another terrifying shriek. She squeezed herself deeper into the bushes which would probably provide little protection, but which at least made her feel less exposed. The night was cold and now that she stopped scraping her hands on the rocks in her hastened, blind climb, she could feel the chill seeping into her bones. Curling under the branches helped a little, but she hardly dared to move, listening.

Where was Geralt? He had pushed her up and told her to run, then turned to free Roach raging at the end of the gorge they had picked for the night. There was something clattering at the entrance, something that alerted the witcher and made him bark at her. It was too dark for Ciri to see what it was, but what she had seen was the blade Geralt had held in his hand. And his terrifying eyes, pitch black against his white face.

It might have been mere minutes that passed between the last, agonizing shriek and the unmistakeable sound of the hooves on stones and twigs. It might as well have been hours.

"You can come out, Ciri. It's just me. It's safe now."

Geralt was somewhere close. His voice seemed raspy and it was hardly louder than whisper. Ciri raised her head and peeked between the branches. She could see his silhouette in the light of the moon. Yet part of her was still frozen in spot.

The witcher seemed to notice her hesitation. He didn't come closer to pick her, like she half expected. Like she desperately wanted him to.

"Come out, we will be safe here for now. Just-" Now it was him who hesitated visibly. "I... Might look different right now. But don't be scared, it's fine."

"Why?" Ciri dared ask, her curiosity piqued. She tried to wriggle herself out from the bushes and realised her hair got helplessly tangled in the branches.

"It's the potions I took to match the monster that tried to sneak up on us." Though Geralt offered her an explanation, his voice was still awfully tight. It sounded wrong.

"Alright." Fighting with her braid, Ciri could hear Roach stomping impatiently. She couldn't understand what made Geralt so reluctant.

"Are you coming or not?"

"I'm stuck!"

That finally made him come closer. He pulled some of the branches up and made more room for Ciri to scramble up. She squirmed when a tricky stick held the end of her braid, but with one swift movement of Geralt's hand she was finally free.

Standing and brushing her loose hair from her eyes, Ciri looked up. And screamed.

Geralt flinched violently and took half a step back. His pupils were so black he looked like a monster himself in the moonlight, with his face ashen grey. And he was covered in blood.

"Hush!"

Ciri covered her mouth and backed away. Geralt flinched even harder.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, his voice still a whisper. He smiled and this smile, kind but hesitant, was the only familiar trait in his face. "It's alright, it's just me."

"What did it d-do to you?" she choked out.

"Nothing, it's the potions that make me look different." Geralt seemed deeply uncomfortable, but he knelt to meet her level and explained anyway. "Look at me. It's normal for a witcher."

"And- the blood?"

Geralt wiped his face with his hand and seemed surprised when it came out wet and sticky. "Oh."

"Geralt?"

"It's nothing," he promised, but winced as he touched his bleeding temple. He walked a few steps away from Ciri and tied Roach to a tree, then calmly started remaking their camp as if nothing happened. The girl stood, shivering. She tried not to look at her companion, but at the same time she felt safer watching him. In what seemed like a moment ha had a small fire going.

"Take your coat," he told her after a moment. "I can hear your teeth clattering. Here," seeing that she would not move, he draped the cloak around her frame and prompted her closer to the fire. He sat beside her, but kept his face away from her and from the flames. Only now that she was settled, he started wiping his face with a piece of wet cloth. Ciri could still see a deep gash on his left temple and a forming bruise against his pale skin. His breathing was quick and shallow, unlike the slow, steady breaths she had grown used to while she rode leaning against him.

Geralt worked fast on making the camp, knowing the potions would wear off soon and leave him in a pitiful state. The fire hurt his eyes, but he needed to calm Ciri and settle her down before he could check on himself. He couldn't risk her panicking and running away. He could already feel pain growing behind his eyes as his stimulated heart ceased to pump adrenaline with blood.

Ciri was mercifully silent. She watched him a bit dazed, but one glance at her wide eyes told Geralt she would not just go back to sleep. Still, she sat by the fire and wrapped her cloak tightly, so Geralt counted it as a win.

He hoped she would nod off before he crashed, but luck was hardly ever on his side. He came down hard, harder than expected even with a head injury, shivering violently. He barely managed to take a few unsteady steps away from the fire before he gagged and retched. The potions were never gentle to his stomach, but now it occurred to him he might have hit his head worse than he had thought.

Once he had nothing left of the meal they had shared before settling for the night, Geralt straightened with effort. His vision swam a bit when he turned, the movement alone threatening his insides to revolt again.

"Geralt?!" Ciri was back on her feet. Any hopes for her going back to sleep evaporated.

"Shhh," he hissed and winced. He risked a deeper breath and slowly made it back to the fire. "Hush, Ciri. I'm alright," he sat down heavily and leaned forwards, shading his eyes with his hand. He wrapped his other arm around his abdomen, hoping he could somehow hide the shaking. The potions seemed to have drained him of every last bit of warmth.

"You- you're not alright!"

I'm not, he thought grimly. "I will be," he said aloud. "Pass me some water, would you? And come here."

Ciri came obediently with a waterskin. Geralt took a careful sip, then another once he was more certain he would hold the water down. Something warm and heavy rested on his shoulders and he realised Ciri brought him his cloak and tried to wrap it around him, pretty much like he had.

"Thank you," Geralt smiled and raised his arm in a hesitant invitation. Part of him was worried the girl would not join him, but Ciri slipped easily under his cloak. She eyed him with concern and with what looked like fear. For, not of him. The realisation caught him off guard.

"You don't look fine." Ciri repeated stubbornly.

"I know," Geralt sighed. "But I promise you it is nothing dangerous, I will be fine."

The girl huffed and snuggled closer.

"Would it help if I told you what my potions do? How they work on me?" he offered after a moment. Talking was the last thing he wished to do, but he wasn't going to get any rest with Ciri awake. "So that the next time I take them, you will know what to expect?"

"I think so," Ciri nodded. "Could I have fought that monster too if I took them?"

"No!" Geralt stopped her sharply, far more harsher than he intended. "You must never, ever try them. They are deadly poisonous to anyone who's not a witcher." Wincing, he covered his eyes again. Even his own voice panged like a hammer against his aching head.

"Oh."

"Bring your cloak here and lie down by the fire."

"I don't want to sleep!" Ciri objected. "Sorry," she added in whisper when he flinched.

"You don't have to. But I need to lie down and you will be warmer that way."

To Geralt's surprise, the trick worked. Ciri let him lie and sneaked in, wrapping her cloak around her and stealing a bit of his. He started telling her about his potions, listing the properties as well as physical signs they left, so that she could be prepared next time. Before he knew it, her body relaxed against his and the girl was sound asleep.

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