How? How could this have happened again? It should've been impossible. He was panicking, right? Everything would be fine, just take calm, measured breaths and...
No. He couldn't breathe. How could one hope to without lungs?
He watched the self that was no longer himself, a cruel grin etched across the face that rightfully belonged to him. Its braying laughter echoed as it strode in a way he never walked. Closer. Closer.
Its eyes... his eyes glowed a malicious shade of red; a mix between finest ruby and freshly spilled blood. All hints of their original color were lost. The vibrant emerald entirely subsumed. Erased.
You have what you want, he silently screamed, please don't do this. Not again.
"Well, now, you do look unhappy, don't you?" The thing that wasn't him cooed, each soft word drenched in venom, "why's that? You wanted this. You wanted to selfishly harness this power. I merely acted as your guide."
... It was true. All of it. The power he'd tampered with refused to be controlled. Now that which he'd sought after, yearned for, had rejected him.
He deserved this powerlessness.
He deserved the paper prison in which he'd found himself.
Jeering, his former body traced a finger along the edge of the tome which would serve as his tomb. "You're of no further use to me. It's time to say goodbye, at least for now. Perhaps the darkness you craved will lend you some form of solace."
The book was slammed shut.
No. No no no no! He wanted to scream. He needed to.
Let me out. Let me out, let me out let me out let me out!
His entire world shook. It stopped jostling as quickly as it started.
Again, the void that was his new home rattled.
Klug shrieked. He shrieked?
All he could hear was the ragged sound of his own breath. Short, quick gasps, trying to make up for the suffocating nightmare.
A solitary red eye hovered perilously close to his face, glowing with its own ominous light.
He yelped, trying to scramble backwards in his half-awake delirium, but was unable because of a weight on his shoulders. Why hadn't he noticed that before? Why?
While effectively immobilizing, the solid grip didn't hurt. Whatever it was gently shook him by the shoulders.
"Please," it entreated, "please wake up, Klug."
In the obfuscating blackness, shapes started to take form. His bleary green eyes squinted into the gloom as the terrifying sleep haze gradually lifted. The dappled moonlight made for poor illumination but it was enough to reveal familiar surroundings. His own room, his own bed, his own Sig...
... Wait. What. Why was he being straddled by a Sig?
His friend started to shake him again. It exacerbated a dull, growing ache in the back of his skull. Ow.
"I'm a-wake st-op shak-ing me!" The words were stilted, but surely Sig could make them out.
"Oh. Good," the cyan-haired boy's head drooped as his shoulders relaxed, "so, so glad."
In a half-mumbled monotone, Klug muttered, "you can let go at any time, you know."
Twitch. Blinking a couple of times, the bug catcher relinquished his hold. "'Kay," he let his hands drop to his sides, "nightmare?"
"How did yo-," Klug stopped short. Oh, nocte cometes, he must've been shouting in his sleep. Very, very loudly, if Sig had heard from his nest on the downstairs sofa. A miserable whine escaped his throat. "Yeah, I must've woken you up. Sorry. Go back to sleep, I'm fine now."
"Nmm. No, can't," brow furrowed, a clawed index finger prodded Klug's arm, "still trembling."
For the sake of the heavens, if he were shaking he'd kno- oh. In a shaft of moonlight Klug could clearly see his hands quivering. A knot of disappointment formed in the pit of his stomach. How mature could he possibly be if a 'bad dream' rattled him this much?
Deflection. His ego required it. Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he tried to cover his weakness. "It's not that," he mumbled with just a hint of condescension, "I'm just... cold. I guess there's a draft somewhere."
Sig's blank expression didn't change as he leaned forward a tiny bit, seeming to scrutinize his classmate's face. Could he actually see anything in the dark? The eerily luminescent eye implied it.
"Liar."
Klug's best attempt at a poker face folded in on itself. He'd have to practice that later. At least he'd never intended to become a hustler... magical science involved far less deception. Wearily, he massaged his temples and replied, "technically, I'm not. Being disturbed and being cold aren't mutually exclusive. Just go to sleep, Sig. It's late, we're both tired and have more work to do tomorrow."
"Hmm," the entomophile squinted, reaching out his right hand, holding the back against his increasingly frustrated compatriot's forehead. The skin did have a slight chill. "Guess you aren't lying. Sorry."
"It doesn't matter. Why won't you listen to me..?" Klug groaned, batting away the foreign extremity. The budding headache did nothing to improve his disposition. Mumbling, he held his head in his hands. He was grateful to be awoken from that terrible dream but why did his saviour have to be this stubborn pest?!
"Hmn. Nightmare may come back, plus being cold won't help..."
"Are your ears just a decoration or something? I'll take my chances, okay? I just wanna sleep."
Thinking... what would help? A distraction? Yes, something distracting.
A placid smile spread across Sig's face. Without warning, he pitched to one side and flopped onto the vacant half of the bed, lying atop the covers. He nuzzled into an unused pillow, making himself right at home.
Klug rolled to face the doe-eyed simpleton and hissed, "what are you doing?! I didn't mean 'go to sleep right here'! Do you have any concept of personal space?!"
Said simpleton blinked curiously, the tufts atop his head moving a little. "Don't take up much personal space and there's room. What's wrong?"
"Gaaah! You know what? Fine. I give up, I give up," he rolled and turned his back on Sig, his emerald eyes smouldering, "honestly, it's like arguing with a wall..."
Pulling the covers possessively over himself, Klug tried to get comfortable, desperate to get some rest for the day ahead. The other boy's body shifted, its weight pressing against his back. Great. This was getting ridiculous. He opened his mouth, more than ready to vent his frustrations.
Something made him pause. Despite the layered sheets he felt a comfortable warmth radiating through. It was pleasant, even cozy. He was still annoyed, still irritated, but his resolve weakened and crumbled. The scholar's complaints died on his tongue. I guess this isn't the worst thing that could happen, the mage sighed, at least I'm not cold anymore.
Klug's pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, but this was... nice. He laid there, listening to his friend's slow, steady breathing, like the swell of the tide. Closing his eyes, he privately mused with a self-satisfied smirk, at least he doesn't snore.
The nightmare didn't return.
Distraction, handled. A gratified smile spread across Sig's face. Whatever the cause of his friend's trembling was, it had finally ceased. Had Klug asked him to leave he would've done so. All he'd said was, 'go to sleep', to which the snugglebug obliged. Or, at least he intended to.
He couldn't help thinking about how bizarre tonight had been, especially once the little shrieking red thing became involved. At least it had quieted down after being successfully banished inside of the breadbox. Unfortunately, that left no room for the bread, so he'd been compelled to eat the quarter or so of a loaf that had been displaced. It'd have been a shame if it had gone stale. It had also served to distract from the ache that had cropped up in his arm.
Dumb arm. Normally when the left-hand extremity acted up it went numb. Pain... wasn't normal. It had stopped soon enough, though, and he'd been able to get some sleep before being startled awake by a scream.
Poor Bunny. He hadn't been able to make much sense of the garbled sleep-talk but the panic in Klug's voice had been plain as day. So had the fear. You sounded so, so scared...
At least his attempt at help seemed to work, judging from the soft, regular breathing and lack of terror-filled outbursts. The nervous mage seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Every once in awhile he'd catch a mumbled word or two. He talks in his sleep, Sig noted with some amusement, cute.
It always felt good to helpful.
Confident that his vigilance was no longer required, Sig protectively draped his left arm over his charge and sank into a well-deserved slumber.