Vengeful Nightmares
Chapter 18
A few hours after the dwarf fell asleep, he opened his eyes and wondered what had awakened him. Then he heard Sarah turn over in her sleep, crying softly. Above her sleeping form there seemed to be a glowing red cloud of smoke, rotating slowly and occasionally reaching down to poke at her. They didn't seem to be hurting her physically, but Hoggle knew from experience what they could do to a person's mind. Pushing back the covers, he slipped from his bed and padded cautiously over to hers; cold fear knotted his stomach, but he couldn't leave her at the mercy of the dreams. He couldn't… He reached out to wake her, but paused when she began to speak, "Mommy, you promised…don't…don't start…please…"
Hoggle's face creased as his apprehension grew, and he put his hand on her arm. "Sarah?" he whispered, and froze. A scene began reveal itself to him, though whether he was seeing it with his eyes or his mind he didn't know. He saw Sarah, but she was younger…a little girl, really. Who was that woman…that woman with an empty bottle of bourbon…
* * *
Eight year old Sarah opened the front door and called for her mother. She had just gotten off the school bus, and she couldn't wait to show her mother the grade she had gotten on her spelling test. "Mommy! MommyMommy, guess what! Mommmeeey!" No answer. Sarah frowned slightly, discarding her backpack and jacket. Her mother always met her at the door unless she was sick, or…
Sarah pushed that thought away, and began searching the house. She looked in the kitchen, the dining room, even the back yard, but no Mommy. More softly, she called, "Mommy?"
From upstairs came the unmistakable sounds of someone being sick. Sarah solemnly plugged her ears and began to climb the staircase. Halfway up she found an empty bottle of schnapps, and a little further up she found two empty bottles of vodka. "Mommy, you promised…" Sarah thought, tears pooling in her eyes. She pushed open the bathroom door, and found her mother. Linda Williams was flushing the toilet with one hand, and draining the last few drops of bourbon down her throat. "Didn'…Didn't get the part…" her mother said almost indistinctly.
"Mommy, you promised me!" Sarah cried, and she would have ran if her mother hadn't grabbed her wrist and given it a painful twist; Sarah felt the fragile bones snap, and she shrieked and fell to the floor. The girl curled up into a ball to protect herself as her mother stood over her, yelling.
"You didn't see that, hear me? You hear? You…you tell you're father, and…Don't you dare tell your father!"
"Mommy, you promised…don't…don't start…please…"
"Get up!"
"No!" Sarah cried, "Don't hurt me again, Mommy, no!"
"Come'ere!" Linda dragged Sarah down to the pantry and locked her in. "Jus…just stay in there and be…be quiet, you hear!…Ulp!" Sarah plugged her ears again as her mother vomited profusely on the floor. That day her mother had left with someone she didn't see, and that week her father had filed for a divorce. Sarah's wrist was in a cast for six weeks.
* * *
Hoggle blinked as the scene disappeared, and he hardly realized that he had begun to cry as Sarah's most private trauma was revealed to him. He hurriedly wiped his eyes on his sleeve and put his hands on Sarah's shoulders, shaking her gently. "Sarah…wake up. Sarah, wake up." He said firmly. Sarah opened her eyes and just barely managed to stop herself from swatting him in the face. The dwarf flinched, and she fell back on the pillows. She rolled over on her side, and used her hand to shield the part of her face that wasn't blocked by the pillow. The red cloud remained where it was; soft, sibilant laughter issued forth from its crimson depths. Hoggle swung at it, but his fist just passed right through it.
"You…you s—saw it, didn't…you?" she whispered as Hoggle put his little arms protectively around her as far as they would go, glancing over his shoulder periodically at the cloud.
"Mm-hmm." He nodded, feeling moisture creeping down his cheeks again. He never knew that she had experienced these things that he was so familiar with; she hadn't told him. He couldn't blame her.
It didn't take long for Sarah to calm down. She pushed herself up on her elbow, and wiped her face with her free hand. "Sorry, Hoggle. It…It was something I've been trying to…pretend never really happened, I guess. I…are you okay?" She sat up a little more, and Hoggle shrugged. He had hoped that his tears wouldn't be visible in the dim lamplight, but she had seen them anyway.
"I guess so," he said, moving away and sitting on the edge of her bed with his back to her. "You?"
She nodded, sighing. "Like you said, I guess so…I know it was just a dream, but…" she trailed off, and Hoggle nodded, his back to her.
"You don' have to tell me. You ain't supposed ta feel pain in dreams, but I bet you felt yer…yer arm breakin'…" he closed his eyes tightly, and held his breath for a moment.
"Yeah…I felt everything. Was it like that for you?" she asked.
Hoggle couldn't speak, so he just nodded. He didn't dare look at her; he had kept control this long, and he was damned if he was going to lose it again. But he couldn't stop remembering; he remembered how his mother's hand had felt on his forehead, a little rough from housework, but cool and gentle…he remembered the terrible sounds of her falling down the stairs…
He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling, and clenched his hands into fists. Oh, how he wanted to escape!
"Hoggle, are you okay?" she asked, leaning forward. He only turned his face away and nodded again. Sarah could feel the misery radiating from him, and her new powers allowed her to catch snatches of his memory whether she wanted to or not. She could feel his frustration at the fact that, although he had intended to comfort her, he couldn't control these unfamiliar urges to cry whenever he was reminded of what had been done. Seeing Sarah's dream had done everything but make him forget his own pain. Sarah, who dreamed often, was used to the nightmares that occasionally found their way in; Hoggle, who hardly ever dreamed, was not. She was better equipped than he was to shake them off and recover quickly. The dream had shaken her, but she was already forgetting how awful it was; Hoggle's dreams had done nothing but drag him further and further down.
Sarah put a hand on Hoggle's back, and the gesture brought a hitching sob out of him. "Hoggle, it's okay." She said, as if giving him permission to let go.
"No it's not! You were the one…that needed 'elp, and I blew it!" he cried, hanging his head.
"No you didn't. You did help me; you woke me up, and sat with me until I was okay. You did help." She got up and sat beside him on the edge of her bed.
"Yer just sayin' that…I didn't…" he argued, shaking his head.
"No I'm not. If I wasn't okay, you'd be able to tell. If I woke up alone after that one, I wouldn't be okay. But you were there. You know?"
Hoggle just sniffed, and continued to look away. She could see him trying desperately to keep it in, and her heart went out to him. "Hoggle, what is it that really has you upset? Is it just this, or is it something else?"
"I…I just wish I could forget…go back to how it was be—before!" he told her, beginning to break down. "It…It's the same…as what my pop…did to m-me! He never broke m'arm, but…but he did…drink alla time, and hit me, an'…and 'e killed my mum! Killed 'er, an' I couldn't do nuthin' to save 'er! An'…an' with the d—dreams takin' his shape an' hers, I…I…I'm scared, all right! Jus' plain scared!" He got up and began to walk away, but there was nowhere to go. He stopped with his fists resting on his own bed, and shook violently as he made one last effort to keep it in.
Sarah reached out, but she was afraid to touch him now. He didn't want to be like this; he was always horribly embarrassed and ashamed when he cried in front of her. She didn't want to make it worse for him, but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't just sit there and watch, but there was nowhere for her to go to give him his privacy. Before she knew it, though, it was decided for her. Hoggle couldn't hold it back without suffocating, and he finally gave up and put his face down on the bed. His entire body seemed to be on the verge of buckling as his sobs shook him like a rag doll; he did his best to muffle the sounds in the bedspread, but was having little success.
Without a word, Sarah took him in her arms and rocked him like a baby. He didn't pull away, but Sarah realized that she could probably have put him on her lap right now and he wouldn't have cared. She didn't do that, of course; he would care later, and Sarah was determined to let him keep what was left of his dignity.
"N—not right…" he gulped.
"What…what do you mean?" she asked.
"Di—Didymus tol' me to b—be strong…Said to be yer rock, but…" he shook his head, "Oh, I'm tryin' to, but…"
"Oh, Hoggle, it's okay. I know you're trying. If you can't help it, it isn't your fault."
"It's just…every time I think I'm—I'm gonna be okay, some—somethin' happens! Somethin' always…reminds me how he treated us, and…how I lost 'er! An' how I didn't do nuthin' to stop it! I…I didn't save 'er! Why couldn't I save 'er! Why couldn't I—I…Why…I…I can't take it anymore!"
An image flashed in Sarah's mind; a knife. The knife that Hoggle had left out in the snow. She saw the knife slicing through the skin of his wrist, his throat, burying itself into his chest. Hoggle gave his head a vicious shake and sobbed harder, trying to push the image out of his head.
"Oh, Hoggle…please don't think about that! Never…never…" she held him tighter, as if by doing that she could protect him from himself. He responded by holding on more tightly than ever, his hands like talons on the backs of her shoulders. He was crying so hard now that he was making almost no noise at all; his whole body was extremely tense, and he would have been bent double if Sarah hadn't been there to prop him up. Sarah could actually mark the moment when her heart broke in two in the face of his suffering. She continued to rock him, swaying gently back and forth as he sobbed hysterically into her shoulder.
More images came to her, so vivid that she could actually smell the different smells that he remembered from his past. She saw him as a tiny boy, flinging his arms around his mother's waist and giggling at her surprised expression. She saw his father, a stern man who's chocolate-brown hair was turning gray at the temples. The man came into the house, and hoisted the boy up onto his shoulders. Another image, not so happy; Molger coming home drunk and cornering his wife. Hoggle hadn't understood what his father had wanted at the time, but it was plain to Sarah what he was after. Hoggle had been locked out of their room, and oh, the awful sounds! The crying…the begging…Hoggle had hidden under his bed until his mother had come looking for him hours later. He'd had himself so worked up that he had been sick. The next day, Molger had brought her a bouquet of sweetheart roses. He had cried, begging her forgiveness, and she had held him close and told him that it was all right. Hoggle, who had never seen a man cry before, had just stared and wondered why she wasn't mad at him for what he did. That image faded, and another one replaced it. Hoggle's mother was tucking him in. Later that night, he had heard his father yelling. His mother went to meet him…Sarah could hear him hitting her, she could hear her falling down the stairs…The dwarven woman's face was visible again, but this time it was surrounded by a casket and funeral flowers. She had been so pretty…so gentle…
"Make it stop!" he begged, "Make the—the thoughts stop c—coming!"
"Oh, Hoggle, I can't!" she whispered, "I wish I could, but I don't know how. I could make you forget the wrong thing, or I could even cause brain damage." She frowned. How did she know that?
"I don' care!" he said stubbornly, "I—I wanna forget."
"No…" she told him, softly but firmly, "Maybe you don't care now, but later on you'd never forgive me for it. I wouldn't just be taking away the bad memories…I'd be robbing you of the good ones, too. I know you don't want to forget about your mother, and I think you know it, too."
He acted like he hadn't heard her, but she knew that he had. "Hoggle…do you really want to forget her? Forget the one you loved so much? The one who loved you?"
"S—stop it!" he cried, "You…you don' understand! I c—can't live this way, I can't!"
"Just answer my question." She told him. He pulled away from her and turned his back, hurt and angry. What she had asked of him seemed horribly unfair. As he was turning away, he lost his balance and fell to his knees.
"You okay?" Sarah asked, trying to help him up, but he shook her off.
"Leave me alone!" he snapped, sitting against his bed and burying his face in his arms. Sarah sighed and sat back against the nightstand, drawing her knees up under her chin. There was no arguing with him when he was like this, so she did as he had asked; she left him alone.
After a few minutes had passed, Hoggle mumbled something that was made unintelligible by the sobs that interrupted it and his soft tone of voice.
"What?" asked Sarah.
"N—no, I…I don't wanna forget 'er." He said a little louder, "She…she was the only…one to love me…I can't forget…h—her."
"Not the only one, Hoggle." Sarah said quietly from her place behind him. "You're not as short on friends as you might think."
Hoggle lifted his head a little, and looked over at Sarah, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He saw her sitting there, several feet away from him, the hurt on her face barely visible. Though she told herself that he didn't mean what he was saying, his rebuff had hurt her feelings. And he knew it. He hid his face in remorse, and burst into tears again. "I'm so sorry…I was a jerk!" he choked, borrowing another word of hers.
Sarah sat down beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, come on…snapping at me doesn't make you a bad person."
"Don't—don't make me a—a good one."
"Well, you are a good one, believe it or not. A bad person wouldn't have cared. You know…I think you're way too hard on yourself, sometimes."
"You—you kiddin'? Yer—yer talkin' to 'Mister Easy Way Out'." He said without looking up.
"But that's not you anymore. You insisted on coming with me, even though I thought it would be better for you if you'd stayed behind. We'll never find out if I was right or not, I guess…but now you're just…beating yourself up all the time. It sounds like the hard way to me."
Hoggle looked up again, his shoulders heaving rhythmically. "But, I…I can't…h-help it. It seems like this's…all my f-fault."
"But it's not." she said firmly.
"I…I know it…ain't, but…just feels like it. I c-can't get 'em out—outta my h-head. Ev-every time I think of h-her, I…it feels like…like someone k-kicked me in the guts. It hurts too bad…I c-can't stand it."
There was a knock at the bedroom door, and Hoggle quickly covered his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds. "Is everything all right in there?" asked Allisande, who had heard the commotion some time ago, and had finally decided to investigate.
"Yeah, I think so." Sarah called back, gently rubbing Hoggle's arm. "Just a rough night."
"Understood. Do you need anything?"
Sarah looked inquiringly at Hoggle, who shook his head, still struggling to keep it quiet. "No thanks." Sarah answered. The fae left, and Hoggle let out the breath he had been holding and began to cry again, but more softly this time.
"I didn't wanna do this." He told her.
"I know."
"I…just miss her." he hung his head, embarrassed, but still he continued, "I never even…got to say goodbye. But it's stupid! It happened so long ago, and I…can't stop thinkin' 'bout it n-now."
"It's not stupid. The dreams brought it back to you, and they won't let it drop. Of course you can't stop thinking about it, not if they're waving it in your face like that. And stop saying that it was your fault, because it wasn't. I know you would have saved her if you could. If you'd put yourself between them, it might have been you going down the stairs. I'm sure she'd want you to live…And she'd want you to be happy. I know I do. Promise me you'll try. Please?"
Hoggle nodded, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve for the umpteenth time. "I'll try…I didn't mean to yell at ya. You was tryin' to help me, an' I…"
"It's okay." She cut him off. "You already apologized once, right? Don't worry about it."
Hoggle glanced up at the red cloud that still hovered in the air; while it had only been over Sarah's bed before, it now filled up most of the ceiling. An image began to form as the looked, but Hoggle quickly closed his eyes and huddled closer to Sarah. "I don't wanna look…"
"Me neither." Said Sarah, but she was looking. It was Molger; he was preparing to hang himself. "Oh…don't look, Hoggle!" she told him, and of course he did. Then he immediately covered his eyes, and Sarah held his head to her shoulder as the image faded. "I told you not to look." Sarah whispered.
"And if I told you not ta look?" he asked.
"I'd probably look." She admitted.
"So…so why're they still goin' at me?" he wondered.
"I don't know…but I think it's because they tried me first and didn't get as big a reaction. Maybe you should try to ignore them, stupid as it sounds."
"You m-mean impossible."
"All right. You tired?" she asked.
"Yeah, but…" he began to glance up, but stopped himself. The cloud was still there.
"But you're afraid to sleep." He sniffled loudly, and nodded. "It's okay. It's not like you're alone; if you need me, just wake me up."
He nodded again, but they sat there for a while longer. It was actually longer than Sarah had intended; Hoggle had fallen asleep. "Hoggle," she shook him, "Wake up."
"Hmm?" he sat bolt upright, his eyes wide.
"You fell asleep. Why don't you go to bed?"
He nodded, and surprised her by giving her one last hug. "Thank ya for bein' my friend, Sarah. I don't know what I done to deserve it, but it must've been good."
She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and said goodnight.
He got into his bed and closed his eyes. As he lay there, he thought, "Yer getting a good one, Jareth. If you breaks 'er heart, you better not let me find out about it. Ain't no one's gonna hurt my friend!"
