Author's note: Hey guys, sorry for the delay with this one (as well as for the length, which is obviously lacking). This chapter takes place in Lion-o's early childhood and ends when he's nine, and Tygra, thirteen.
If you guys are interested, I actually drew some ThunderKittens art over on my art blog, in which poor Snarf endures the abuse of a five-year-old. You can find the link to it on my profile page. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own ThunderCats no matter how much I wish I did.
Chapter Five: Nightmares
Tygra always knew when Lion-o was having a nightmare. After years of waking up to the small prince shaking him urgently, fear illuminating his bright green eyes in the dark, one could say he had developed a sixth sense for such nights.
When the sense of alertness would wash over him, he would lie patiently in bed, waiting for the soft footfalls that would announce Lion-o's approach.
"Tygra," Lion-o would hiss. "Tygra!"
"What is it this time?" Tygra would ask expectantly, sitting up to make room for him.
Then would come the description of Lion-o's latest night terror, which would range anywhere from abandonment to being chased by a homicidal mutant. Most of the time it would be something truly outrageous, the kind of nightmare that only innocent children would dream up; such as Snarf growing to giant proportions and squashing them all with his foot.
Yet every once in a while, Lion-o would tell Tygra about a truly terrifying dream. There was one in particular that had made Tygra's skin crawl; it was about a red-eyed demon that controlled its victims' bodies long after it had killed them, making them attack members of their families. When Lion-o had run to find Tygra, he was already under the monster's control, blood seeping from his empty eyes. It was a tale that Tygra would remember for years after hearing it.
In the comfort of Tygra's arms, Lion-o would whisper his dreams with a tremor in his voice. Eventually, the trembling would subside, and the fear would drain out of Lion-o with every word until nothing was left but a tired cub and sleep on the horizon.
Tygra did not mind these late night sessions, and was even somewhat covetous of them. A selfish part of him enjoyed having something between him and his brother that no one else had, a secret slice of knowledge shared behind the curtain of darkness that fell over Thundera; so when Tygra's mind would be inexplicably alert long after nightfall, he would sigh to himself and await Lion-o's arrival, wondering what kind of story awaited him that night.
One night, the footfalls never came.
He lay wide-awake in bed, listening for telltale creaks and shuffling, but his ears were only met with the calm silence of the palace. An hour passed, followed by another. When it became apparent that no one was coming, everything suddenly felt very wrong. The sheets Tygra was lying on felt foreign. The rustling of leaves outside were too noisy. His breathing felt strange and off.
It was just wrong.
He gazed up at the ceiling. Contemplated making the trek to Lion-o's room to find out what had happened. Swiftly decided against it. The night dragged on, and he hardly got any sleep, his mind a whirlwind of questions begging to be answered.
In the morning, he arrived so early to breakfast that he startled the maid. Barely five minutes later, Lion-o trailed in after him, looking every bit as exhausted as Tygra felt.
"Morning," Tygra greeted, gauging his movements with the utmost scrutiny.
"Morning," Lion-o mumbled back, dropping into his seat without a glance at Tygra.
"Sleep well?" Tygra inquired.
Lion-o raised his head and their eyes locked.
"Fine."
The lie hung between them like the heavy night. In that moment, Tygra understood that Lion-o would never again come to him seeking comfort after a nightmare. It was an era of his childhood that had passed abruptly and without warning, leaving Tygra feeling, for the time being, somewhat empty. The selfish part of him that clung to their exclusive moments together wished Lion-o would never grow up, because he knew growing up meant secrets and drifting. Growing up meant there would be less room in his life for Tygra.
Soon he learned to relinquish the grip he had held on such precious moments together and accept his ever-changing role in Lion-o's life. But every once in a while, Tygra still lay awake in bed, listening for soft footfalls that never came.