Febuwhump Day 4: Nightmares
Word Count: 1024
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: K+/PG
Characters: Alex Louis Armstrong, Philip Gargantos Armstrong
Warning: N/A
Summary: Alex is having nightmares after he's sent home from Ishval. His father expected this.
Notes: N/A
Nightmares
Alex bolted upright in his bed, hands grasping heavily onto the mattress and the blankets. He gasped as he tried to regain his breath, chest heaving, and felt the sweat coating him. The room was dark, still, and completely familiar. From the ornate bedposts to the heavily decorated walls, it all spoke of a familiarity from childhood for him.
The why did it feel so foreign?
He held his breath for a moment, then let it out slowly, in an attempt to get his breathing back under control. It was a nightmare. It was another nightmare. He didn't remember exactly what it was about, and he hurriedly directed his mind away from that train of thought. He didn't want to remember what it was about. It was enough that he had it.
Alex looked at his clock in the dim light that came in from the windows. Three in the morning. He had fallen asleep around midnight. Three hours of sleep. It was about on par with most of his other nights. Alex sighed and flipped the blankets back. He knew that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight.
Getting up, Alex reached for his robe and pulled it on. His rooms suddenly felt suffocating and he had to get out of them. He knew that his sisters and parents would most likely be asleep at this hour, so he moved quietly into the house. Part of him wished that Olivier was home, so that he could talk to her. But there was still bad blood between her and their father, ever since he refused to name her heir and tried to deny her the sword. Not to mention, Alex wasn't sure that she would even want to talk to him. He had heard the names that she had called him when she found out what he did.
Still, it would be nice to have someone to talk to.
Alex's wandering feet led him to the family sitting room. It was the one room that was closed to most others, that was the place for their family to just be a family together. It was full of fond memories, and Alex hoped that those memories would help keep the other memories away. But to his surprise, as he approached the sitting room, he could see that the light was on inside. Had one of the maids forgotten to turn it out? Or was some else in there?
Alex kept walking towards it, and quietly pushed the door open. "Father?" he said in surprise, not expecting to see his father sitting there in his chair.
His father looked up, looking a bit surprised at being interrupted, but not too surprised to see him. "Oh, Alex, my boy, come in."
"I'm sorry, Father, I didn't mean to disturb you," Alex began, but his father just waved it off.
"Nonsense. You aren't disturbing me in the least. However," Philip looked at Alex. "You look as if you've been disturbed by something."
Alex started, although he shouldn't have been surprised. His father was often quick to get to the point of things and didn't often hold back. He was much like Olivier in that way. Perhaps that's why the two of them didn't always get along.
"I… just couldn't sleep, Father," Alex said.
Philip nodded. "Mm. Just like all the other nights this week. And the ones before that. And for a majority of the nights since you returned home."
Alex's head snapped up. "I—" he scrambled for an excuse. "—am just finding it harder to adjust to…" he trailed off, trying and failing to think of what to say next, especially under his father's look.
"You mean you have nightmares," Philip said. "Nightmares of what you did, of what you didn't do, and of things you can't be sure if you did."
Alex stared at his father, before lowering his head in shame. "I… yes," he said. "They plague me every night."
To his surprise, Philip didn't do much more but hum in agreement and reach out to light his pipe. "I'm not surprised," Philip said. "I think I'd be more worried if you didn't."
Alex looked at his father in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Philip puffed on the pipe a few times, then settled back with it, comfortable in his chair. "I was a soldier too, you know my boy. I only retired a few years ago, before Ishval began. But I can imagine the kinds of horrors that went on there." He took his pipe out for a moment, and then sighed. "It's the part of being a soldier they don't tell you about. The part no one talks about publicly. They part that is only talked about soldier to soldier, when no one else but those of us who have been through it are there."
Alex was quiet for a moment. "Then… you've suffered too, Father? You've… you've had times like this."
"Oh yes," he said. "My own father sat with me in this room and talked to me, when I was ready. I talked to Olivier here as well. And now you."
That was a surprise to Alex. "Olivier—Olivier talked to you about—" about war, about killing, about injustice, "—all of this? That doesn't seem like her."
Philip looked back his way. "It's a moment ever soldier must face and decide what his or her next steps will be. But it's not time for that decision quite yet, my son. Tell me, Alex. What do you see in your nightmares?"
Alex looked down at is hands. Did he really want to tell his father this? Did he wanted to tell his father what he saw every night? About his sins? About his atrocities? About his failures? He looked back up at his father. There was no rush in Philip, no pushing. Just a simple waiting.
Alex looked at his hands again and began to talk.
Perhaps, with help, he could get through this, eventually.
And then he could decide on his next steps.
And maybe, just maybe, he could stop something like this from happening again.