Bruised knuckles and bloody fingers, clinging to a bag strap. Lips, split and chapped, grinning up at him with blood-stained teeth. A laugh. He feels light with relief, joy, and affection.
He blinks. Sickly yellow skin and cracked lips. Blue eyes, cloudy and exhausted. Just rest. Closed eyes and laboured breathing. Dread weighs heavily on him.
Shattering glass and pounding feet. His legs burn and his heart races. A shout. He turns. Scraped knees and heaving chest. He halls him to his feet. He grins, straw blond hair falling into his eyes. Together, they run, laughing.
A growl trapped in his throat. Concerned blue eyes under a black moon. Anger, harsh and abrupt, only one target. He charges and they collide, a great clash of teeth and claws. They wrestle for control, for the chance at the killing bite. Claws rake across his flank, tear flesh and rip out fur. Vertebrae beneath his jaws-
He woke with a jolt, taking great heaving breaths, his heart hammering in his chest. The dream-memory was already fuzzy around the edges, slipping through his fingers like sand. The more the tried to hold on, the faster it faded.
Once he had his breathing under control, he let himself lie back down. He stares at the ceiling, watching the lights of the city play across its surface. He settled the ratty blanket over his legs and belly. He slides his hand under his pillow.
His fingers meet the cool metal of a gun barrel.
Shadows danced across the ceiling, liquid and impermanent. He was tired. If he was lucky, he might be able to fall back asleep. The shadows leaped across the cracks in the ceiling. Cracks that were far too familiar to him. He'd been here too long.
With a sigh, he sits back up. He throws on a stolen sweatshirt and laces up his boots. He packs his journal, pillow, spare clothes, and blanket in his backpack and straps it on. He tucks the gun into his waistband.
He checks the stolen watch. The white numbers blink brightly up at him, blinding him. He squints. 2:27 Almost an hour of sleep, this time.
