Nightmares, sleeping and waking: Jamie and Alison (and Miles) late Thursday night

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

In which Jamie has a nightmare, and Miles brings him to Alison for comforting . . . but it's Alison who ends up needing comfort. Not a resolution, but at least it's a start.



Kitty walked away, down through the security checkpoint, toward the terminal and the waiting plane, and this time Jamie followed her. No one challenged him as he drifted through the crowded halls, no one asked for his ticket as he entered the jetway. Kitty never once looked around. He followed her anyway.

He stood in the aisle as she took her seat and buckled in, stowing her carryon in front of her. People brushed past him without a word, without touching, on their way to their seats. Babies cried, families chattered. Kitty stared sadly out the window.

Something caught Jamie's attention on the other side of the plane, and he looked for it, searched for it, it was important . . . and then all the people went silent and he looked around again, and all of them, old men and women and girls in sundresses and even the babies, all the people except Kitty had his face.

They stared at him, silent.

Then they grinned, in unison--not his grin. Not his face.

Kitty sighed and pulled a book out of her carryon. Jamie tried to yell, tried to warn her, but he was frozen, and he couldn't make a sound.

Skippy stared at him from a hundred faces. Grinning.

A stewardess, with that face, with that grin, started demonstrating evacuation procedure, and still he couldn't move. His own voice, mocking, came over the intercom to announce the takeoff, and he couldn't make a sound.

Kitty put her book away, stared out the window again, and the plane took off. Skippy flicked a hundred pairs of eyes up at the fasten seatbelt sign, and his grins turned predatory. Anticipatory. And still Jamie couldn't move.

The captain came over the intercom again to announce in Jamie's voice that the had reached cruising altitude, hut the announcement died in a choking gurgle and the plane lurched.

All the Skippies were melting, puddling in the aisles, soaking into the seats, splattering on the walls, and there was no one flying the plane, the pilot was Skippy and he was melting, the plane was going to crash, they were thirty thousand feet up and going to crash, and even if Kitty phased in time--she'd taken out her book again, unconcerned--she'd still be thrown too far into the earth to make it back to the surface in time, and he still couldn't move, he was trapped while they melted, drowning in their slime . . .

Jamie dragged himself awake with an explosive gasp, tangled in sheets soaked through with icy sweat. He fell back into his pillow, panting. Dammit, that one didn't even make any sense, she called me from O'Hare, the flight went fine, I know that . . .

Sense was apparently not a priority for his subconscious. He thumped his head back into the headboard a few times irritably and tried to resign himself to lying awake the rest of the night. At least he hadn't woken up any of his roommates.

A small hand reached out to rest on his shoulder lightly, Miles standing almost inches away from him, a glass of water in hand and a sad, knowing look on his face. "Jamie just had a very bad nightmare," he murmured, sneaking a look at their still sleeping room mates, still sleeping peacefully. "Miles knows." He turned a resolute look on Jamie, setting the glass on the small side table carefully, waiting for his friend's answer.

Jamie blinked, forcing his eyes to focus on the small figure next to him. "I've had worse," he whispered, "but yeah, kiddo, this one was pretty bad. Did I wake you up?"

"No," Miles shook his head, poiting at the glass of water he'd just set down. "Miles was thirsty and so went to get some water." He tilted his head to the side, looking Jamie over carefully. He reached up, one small hand patting Jamie's cheek lightly. "Will Jamie be able to go back to sleep? Would Jamie like to talk about the nightmare? Miles does that, with Alison. It makes things not so scary, sometimes."

"I dreamed Skippy was on Kitty's plane, and made it crash. Was still scary while it was happening even though I know she made it there safe . . . dunno about sleep the rest of the night, either. I'll be okay, I think, and you need your sleep." He mustered a weak and probably entirely unconvincing smile.

Another look over his shoulder, revealing still sleeping room mates - or people that were pretending well, at any rate. "Miles think Jamie needs something special." He nodded firmly and stepped back, one hand taking Jamie's own and tugging firmly. "Will Jamie come with MIles?" he asked quietly, though the resolute gleam in his eyes visible even in the shadows of the room spoke volumes as to the response he expected.

"Lemme find my shirt, I think it went and hid in my pillowcase again . . . " Jamie located the fugitive shirt, pulled it on, and clambered unsteadily out of bed. "Where to, boss?"

Waiting until they were out of the room, closing the door with almost comical care, Miles once more took Jamie's hand in his before heading down the hallway, trotting in a direction that likely made everything clear to Jamie rather quickly.

"Zonky lights?" Jamie asked wryly. "That'll work, as long as Alison doesn't mind getting rousted out of bed at half-past-ohmygod in the morning . . ."

Miles rolled his eyes at him, before giving him a little boy smile. "Alison never minds, said so." And MIles had been thinking more of a lullaby, but he knew what Jamie meant about the 'zonky lights'. He'd had the chance to benefit from them as well, after some of his more particularly vivid nightmares.

"Well, no, that's right, she did. You're not allowed to be right at this time of night, Miles. My brain isn't working yet."

There were reasons why Miles tended to be very alert as soon as he woke, but Jamie didn't need to hear about that after having just woken up before a nightmare, Miles decided. Instead he made a face at him, opening the door to Lorna and Alison's common room and gesture for Jamie to wait while he fetched Alison.

A minute or so later footsteps could be heard, padding towards the door lightly and then Alison leaned out, looking at Jamie pensively. "Come on in," she murmured, smiling in welcome, opening the door a bit wider to reveal a very busy MIles setting up the couch in the common room for Jamie to sleep on or so he might assume. A pillow was earnestly fluffed up and then placed on one end, along with spare blankets, before Miles trotted over to them, reaching up for a hug from Alison before slipping out and away to go back to bed in his own room.

"Hey." Jamie's hands found the pockets of his pajama pants as he entered the room, walking over to perch on the edge of the couch. "Sorry to get you up . . ." He shrugged. "They're getting worse, since she left."

It made sense, of course, and there was nothing Alison could say to that so instead she nodded understandingly. "S'ok, no apology needed." She settled down on the floor easily in a graceful flop, stretching out her legs and looking up at him. There were no lights lit, but Alison was already radiating some light, just enough to not blind the eyes of someone already adjusted to the darkness. She tilted her head to the side, considering. "Wanna talk about it? Or just ye good old lullaby?" She smiled a bit at the last, having practiced the latter considerably since Miles had shown up in her life.

"Eh. This one actually wasn't all that nasty, comparatively . . . all the other people on Kitty's flight turned into Skippy and sludged in midair, and I woke up before the crash." He settled back onto the couch, swinging his feet up, then added "It could have been a lot worse," with the certainty that came from remembering when it had been.

Alison just nodded at that. He was talking things and telling her there'd been more and it was so very nice to see someone just completely willing to talk about things instead of hiding it all away - and she shied away from her own thoughts and nightmares about the Skippies, briefly wondering if she could manage the calm she'd need now to actually manage anything remotely soothing at all for Jamie. "I imagine so," was all she said, settling into a cross-legged position.

"Probably be okay tomorrow, but I wouldn't say no to some help falling asleep." Jamie smiled hopefully. "Miles seemed to think you wouldn't mind."

She smiled a bit, refusing to let her mind go back over what had happened in the music room, the look in the Skippy dupe's eyes as he had poisoned her, and instead nodded in acknowledgement. "I don't mind in the least. Now just lie back, this won't hurt a bit," she winked, waiting until he was settled down to let her eyes drift half shut and try to find her center, before letting streamers of light slowly seep into the visible range.

Jamie did his best to relax into the couch, watching the play of light and trying not to try to let it work. Soon enough, he felt his eyes drifting shut, and he shifted position slightly, trying to get a little more comfortable. "The worst part," he murmured hazily, "the worst part is always right at the beginning, I always have to look twice to see it's not me I'm seeing . . . the face always fools me."

The light flared at those words, patterns shattering into chaos before the room was plunged into sudden and complete obscurity. Silence reigned for a time and as his eyes got used to the darkness, Jamie could make out Alison's shape, arms wrapped around her knees, face hidden as she curled up, shoulders shaking slightly.

Abruptly wide awake, Jamie swung his legs back down off the couch and went to his knees beside Alison, hesitantly extending an arm across her shoulders. "Hey . . . hey, what's the matter? Can I help?"

Leaning to the side, shifting her weight just enough to lean on him while holding herself even more tightly, Alison shook her head helplessly. "It was like looking at you only a stranger was staring out of your eyes," she sobbed the words out, remembering only too well what she had done, as a last resort. "And it happened too fast - I knew he had Miles, knew he had
the boys..."

Jamie stiffened, but pulled Alison closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Everybody . . . everybody's been telling me I did what I had to do," he said. "I wish I could say they were right, but I don't know that. I can say . . . I understand, though. About what it felt like looking at him, and things going too fast, and . . . after that. I'm in the same place, and--the family thing goes both ways, you know? I'm here for you too."

Alison gave in, crying quietly into his shoulder, reliving the moment where her vision faded - when she pulsed light so bright and fierce, the feeling of ashes drifting to settle on her cheek and arm before there was only darkness. "I don't think what I did was right," she finally whispered, wiping at her cheeks slowly with the back of her hand. "But I didn't know what else to do. So I did what I could."

"I know," Jamie said quietly. "And it's hard, seeing how far you can be pushed. I didn't think I could do some of the things I did."

But it wasn't just someone, it was you! she wants to say, but stops herself at the last minute, thankfully. If anyone would know, it would be Jamie... "Yeah. I... I already knew I'd kill to protect MIles. Just..." She sighed and shook her head mournfully.

"Just not someone you thought you knew?" He smiled wryly. "I thought I knew myself, and then I saw . . . where I could be taken, and how far I was willing to follow. You don't have to hold back with me, on this, okay? If I was gonna break, there's been lots of opportunities already . . . you can't chase me away by talking about it, no matter what."

Alison shifted a bit, a tear still escaping her now and then - not enough crying had been done on this, not nearly enough. "He seemed... damaged, somehow. Not just on the surface, but way deep down inside." She sighed, shaking her head. "I think that if it had been you and not a dupe - things wouldn't have gone that way." She had to believe that. Couldn't believe anything else. "But I also think we each of us have a darkness inside... if your dupes can become individuals - then they have their own darkness to fight, right? And not all might react the same. Just like you." A paused, and her voice grew strained again. "I wish I'd thought to look, after the accident. Why didn't I look? It would have-"

"You might not have found him. There's no guarantee anything would've happened differently." He sighed, stroking her hair soothingly. "I played the what-if game all last week. It's not one you can win."

"I know..." She sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a moment, so very tired. But I still wish... "I know," she repeated, because she did on a rational level, even if it changed nothing on an emotional one. "Don't think I'll be able to do the calming light gig much tonight, hon..."

Jamie nodded. "That's okay. You've been there for me every time I needed you since I got here--my turn, huh? I promise not to sing."

A watery chuckle answered that. "Sounds like a deal, kiddo," she nodded, the smile fading but no longer crying at least, for now. "Sounds like a deal."