1. Set in the night following "Samurai's Journey".
2. Love: to Roie, friend and beta.
3. Enjoy, and please review!
Hunter's eyes snapped open, breath catching in his throat as he woke. Shit, he thought, and then: move. I have to move. Moving was the only way to break the hold of a dream – he'd learned that the hard way, and it was true even when the nightmare he was trying to avoid didn't contain the inability to move. Now it was extra important. The mattress was soft, warm, just as the grass had been… Hunter forced himself to open his eyes. He had almost fallen asleep again, and he couldn't afford that. No point trying to turn over, he figured, and aimed for the lesser goal of moving his hand to pull down the blanket. No success. He just couldn't move. Sleep paralysis held him better than chains ever could. Not tonight, he thought, mouth dry. Tonight will be extra bad. It happened, sometimes, that he couldn't break through. That he had to fall into whatever dream that woke him, and experience it to its end. But after everything that had happened that day, Hunter just couldn't face that. Lying helpless in bed, he didn't feel like he could.
Panic gave him enough force to lick his lips, and then bite the lower one. It was easier once he managed any form of movement, limited as it was. He started from his facial muscles, gingerly tested his neck, and then tried moving his arm again. This time it worked, and he managed to pull down the blanket a bit, letting the night air cool him off. His pulse was too fast and his breath too heavy, but he wasn't sweating just yet. It wasn't much, but that was just about all that he had to hold on to. He tried his shoulders and then, slowly, twisted and flipped on his other side. The sigh of relief was involuntary. The sight of Blake, sleeping on his mattress across the room, reminded Hunter that he should keep quiet. There was no reason for both of them to lose sleep.
Lying down wasn't going to cut it, Hunter realized after a moment. He'd woke up from nightmares too many times that night – he'd lost count after the fifth time – and now just lying in place was enough to make images play in front of his eyes, so clear and vivid that they almost bloke the reality of the messy one-room apartment, and his brother sleeping. Hunter swung up into a sitting position in one movement, and then paused and waited for his vision to clear. The blackout wasn't a good sign. It meant he was going to show signs of how tired he really was the next morning, and that could get him in trouble. Or, if I'm lucky, I'm just dehydrated. He silenced the snort. Yeah. Me, lucky: Lothor would be giving lap dances before that ever happens. Still, it was worth a shot. Hunter stood up as slowly as he could – getting up too fast would mean blacking out and falling down – and walked to the kitchen, making sure not to step on any discarded clothes or items, and touching the wall for extra balance. It was just a short distance but by the time he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter, Hunter was sure that this time either he was dehydrated, or the constant lack of sleep had finally gotten to him.
He hadn't slept whole night through since the Academy was attacked.
He raised one arm from the counter, rubbed his eyes, and reached for the first glass he could find. It was a nice surprise when his fingers easily closed around the glass – apparently the sleep paralysis has completely worn off, despite its initial persistence. He lifted his other arm from the counter and opened the tap. The glass slipped from his hand when it was about third-full. Good thing it's plastic, he thought as he fished it from the sink and washed it briefly before refilling. Just what I need, picking up glass shards. He sipped the water slowly.
Blake moved uneasily in his sleep.
Is he dreaming too? Hunter wondered. The power loss they experienced today has had to make its mark on all of them, not just on Hunter. It was just too powerful an experience.
Blake muttered something that Hunter couldn't decipher.
Yeah, thought Hunter, definitely a nightmare. He turned back to the sink and refilled his glass. He'd wake Blake, but then he'd have to explain what he was doing up, and Blake would not accept bullshit. Hunter couldn't lie to Blake: Blake always knew when Hunter was lying, or hiding part of the truth. If he'd wake Blake now, he'd have to confess to all of his nightmares, and he didn't feel ready to do that. Blake didn't need to know.
Blake sighed and relaxed into the mattress. Hunter nodded to himself, and looked away. Why can't it be so easy for me, too?
Because you're hard on yourself, duh.
Hunter scowled as Shane's voice echoed in his mind. He just couldn't escape Shane, could he? Not even in the middle of the night and in the relative privacy of his own mind.
You mind telling me why you're always there?
Someone should keep an eye of you.
I can take care of myself, thanks.
Yeah, that's why you're getting into as much trouble as the rest of the team put together.
Are you going to follow Cam around, too?
He's Cam.
Yeah, exactly. He got turned into a bug on his first day as a Ranger.
Hunter thought he saw the imaginary Shane tilting his head. Good point, he conceded. He'd also kick my butt if I tried looking after him.
And I can't?
Hunter looked down, pretending not to hear the answer his mind whispered back at him with Shane's voice.
Facts are, you don't.
He emptied his glass in one gulp and filled it for the third time. This time he managed to hold the half-full glass without dropping it. He leaned with his back against the counter, staring through the wall.
What if I told Shane about the dreams?
He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it formed. He didn't need that. He could, and would, get by. Shane was a mother hen, a poser and a general nuisance, and Hunter was not going to go to him for advice, or support. Even if Shane seemed to be there whenever Hunter turned his head.
Are you stalking me?
Do you want me to?
What kind of an answer is that?
What kind of a question was that?
Hunter put down the empty glass and rubbed his eyes again. Would you please leave me be? I'm trying to fall asleep here.
If you're trying to fall asleep, what're you doing standing in the kitchen?
Hunter pushed himself from the counter, glaring into the darkness. Smartass.
Nah, just smart.
Poser.
Look who's talking, Mr. I-wouldn't-look-out-of-place-on-a-catwalk.
Hunter pulled the blanket and set on the mattress. I'm not going to argue with you.
Luckily, the imaginary Shane didn't answer. Hunter lay down. Lying down, unfortunately, seemed to be just what the dream images had been waiting for. Hunter opened his eyes, fists clenching. Shit, he thought to himself, and then added: this was all your idea.
You need to sleep.
Yeah, and I'm not going to get any sleep like this! He shouldn't have recalled the mental image of Shane. Now he could see the guy sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking down at Hunter sympathetically. Want me to sing you a lullaby?
Like hell I do.
I know some good ones.
I'm sure you do. Hunter closed his eyes and sighed. Fine. So he was stuck with Shane. Better Shane than the nightmares. Now he just needed a memory strong enough to keep the nightmares at bay…
He was sitting at the shop's floor, tending to his bike, when he sensed a presence by the door. He raised his eyes, and found Shane leaning against the doorframe, holding two soda cans.
"Want a soda?"
"Why not?"
Shane crossed the room, opened one of the cans and offered it to Hunter.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Shane didn't disappear with his soda, though, but leaned against one of the workbenches.
"Got nowhere better to go?"
Shane shrugged. "Tori and Blake are watching TV"
Hunter grunted. Yeah, that would explain it. He loved his bro, but sometimes being around him and Tori together was just too much. He took another swig from his soda, put it down and picked up the wrench again. No reason not to keep at his work just because Shane was there.
A few minutes passed in silence, and then, quite suddenly, Shane asked: "Your shoulder still bugging you?"
Hunter raised his head. "Huh?"
"Your shoulder", repeated Shane.
He'd hurt his shoulder at a Kelzack scuffle earlier that day. Yes, it still hurt a bit. Funny that Shane would notice, though. "Yeah", he said. "No big deal."
Shane snorted and slid off the bench. "Mind if I have a look?"
"What do you mean?" asked Hunter, immediately suspicious.
"Jeez, I'm not going to take your arm off". Shane settled behind Hunter. "I know what I'm doing."
Hunter made a face, but allowed Shane to prod his shoulder. Shane's touch was light, and didn't hurt at all. When Shane's hand passed closer to Hunter's neck, Hunter caught a faint fragrance. He reached and caught Shane's hand, pulling it over his shoulder. He turned Shane's hand palm-up and inspected it.
"You using hand cream?"
"Yeah. Otherwise they'd be all chapped."
"Yeah, I know". Hunter felt Shane's palm again, just to make sure. The skin was perfectly smooth. "Mine's chapped anyway."
"Probably because you're messing around with your bike all the time."
"Guess so". He released Shane's hand, but Shane lingered a moment before pulling it back and continuing to massage Hunter's shoulder. Fleetingly, Hunter missed the feeling of Shane's warm weight leaning against his back, but it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared.
Shane's thumbs were tracing lines against Hunter's shoulder blades, the fingers rubbing small circles against the top of his shoulder. Hunter gave up trying to work on his bike, and simply let his arms hang at the sides of his body, allowing himself to enjoy Shane's steady warmth. You're good, he wanted to say, or, why are you doing this? But saying anything seemed too awkward, and he said nothing, just closed his eyes, leaning a little into Shane's palms.
He was asleep in seconds, and slept soundly till morning.
