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Called a Name, Can't Remember

It's that same dream again, and you can't really complain. It's a soft dream, you're not fighting, or bleeding, you're not spending the entire night doing your homework. That dream woke you with a sore wrist from writing.

My angel

It's not even an erotic dream, but you welcome it just the same.

Precious

So simple, you're being held. The arms are strong, and firm, so you'll never fall, but they're gentle, protective.

Miracle

You're smaller in the dream, baby-size, and the person holding you looks down, and smiles, and says your name, not your name, but their name for you.

Treasure

"…"

Sunshine

And in the morning, you remember being held, protected and comforted, and you remember a smile, and you remember a voice, sort of, but you don't remember the name.

Your parents never called you a baby name, not that you can remember. Perhaps they would have, and did; but the only time you were held in their arms, you were too small to know how rare it was going to be.

Darling

Maybe if baby-you had known, he would have listened harder, absorbed it all. Maybe not, babies are creatures of 'right now.' Even if you knew the loving parents of your infancy would be gone soon, you wouldn't have understood.

My heart

Your aunt and uncle had names for you. You heard them so often, they might have been your name. 'Boy', and 'the boy' and sometimes, 'that whingeing little bastard.'

Honey

Growing up, your peers, couldn't call them friends, had names for you. Names based on the way you looked, and the way you behaved. The childish cruelty that built people up, or tore them down, each according to his spirit.

Sweet

They rolled off of you, because they weren't real. There was only one real name, but you didn't remember it. Hell, you don't remember even having the soft dream at that age, but you know you felt safe, and comforted, so maybe you did and you just accepted it on faith.

Sugar

Your friends call you names now, cruel ones in jest, and the laudatory ones you've earned.

Dear

They have baby-names, your friends. Her parents are quiet people, not given to flights of fancy, but they called her 'Candy' from the moment she was born, to her loving dismay. It doesn't suit her, you think, but maybe it does. Maybe when it's said by a parent, holding you s tight as they can so you don't break, maybe it sounds perfect.

Sweetheart

His mother calls him 'pumpkin' for reasons he won't go into, and you find blindingly obvious. You laugh until you fall out of your chair, and then you just lay there for a moment, catching your breath.

Honeybunch

When he crosses the hall and extends a hand to you, you take it. It's been years since the train, and not worth the thought he put into it.

My boy

When he pulls you closer, you don't fight it, letting yourself be embraced, held in strong, protective arms.

Baby boy

When he whispers 'Draco, love' in your ear, you smile. You won't forget.

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