quietplacelogs | ♜ caught in a bad dream

Entry tags:

the dark tower: jake chambers

♜ caught in a bad dream

Featuring: Jake Chambers (

waystation) and Eddie Kaspbrak (

clussy).
What's happening: Jake has bad dreams, Eddie has bad dreams. Plot twist: what if they shared the same dream? Just a little dreamwalking between housemates, nbd.
Day: Feb 28th, night.
Content warning: Mutilation, death, violence.

_{[A part of him had been hoping the end of the man in black would mean the end to his dreams as well, but no luck there; it isn't long after his arrival in this world that they'd start up again, often ending with him balled up on his side holding still and silent, scarcely daring to breath. Sometimes it's grey-black stone and red roses. Sometimes it's his mother weeping, burning.

More and more often it's deformed shapes of Sound Eaters and red dust thick enough to fill his lungs and wake him with the feeling of choking.

Other times it's... something else.

Tonight features a new dream. He knows it's not the usual fire and darkness because the quality of the darkness is different, dank and wet. Dingy light bounces off dingier water. It smells like a swampy graveyard, the old and rotting mingling with fresh death. It's not just the visceral odiousness of the place that puts him on edge; the darkness has a presence to it, almost as if an entity with ears and eyes in its own right, and he's immediately scared in primal recognition that this place is wrong. Deeply, unnaturally wrong. His conscious mind desires to yank free of the vision like a sticky cobweb he's found himself caught in, but even as he wants to withdraw, his mind is leading him deeper along the web. To where the spider waits, he thinks.

Blood is in the air, in the water, on the ground. Up his nose. He can make out several voices distorted by the acoustics of the tunnels--a handful of men, one female. Their owners cluster around a form on the ground. It isn't until he makes out the clothes--what someone would wear in the 80s--that he recognizes it as a human body. A man's. Dark hair, skin the color of lifeless marble.

He sees it then. The shredded remains of a socket where an arm should be.

I- I try and save my friends from IT and IT winds up ripping this arm off.

Oh god--

As he watches, the men and woman trickle away in drips and drabs, taking the light with them. Women, he should say, as it looks like one is being carried. He feels their conflicted desire to stay and immense need to leave. The body stays where it is, unmoving. As yet untouched by the rats scurrying in the dark.

--No, not the body. The man. The familiar man with the comma of brown hair askew on his forehead that Jake's seen on a younger, narrower face.

That's when he understands--this was never his dream at all.

He wakes up at the high point of that epiphany, snapping out of dreams and into reality--cold, sweaty reality, muscles bunching in painful cramps all down his legs. He's half-afraid the dampness in his hair is from sewer water and he frantically swipes a hand over his head, examining his palm for sludge. It comes away clean in a way he doesn't feel. The mangled body twinges like a bruise in his mind's eye. He knows by now where the line between inconsequential and meaningful dreaming falls, and that... that hadn't been a normal dream.

Eddie. Throwing the covers back, Jack pads out of his room in his bare feet, pausing only briefly outside the door to the master bedroom before he's gently turning the knob and emitting himself. He has to see. He has to...

His eyes take in the room and he has to suck in a breath, almost doubting he's awake: there's Eddie, lying still and spreadeagled in eerie mimicry of the adult corpse from his nightmare, bathed in the dim light from the window. Hair on his forehead, just the same. Please don't be dead. It's a sudden, irrational thought that sets his heart pounding in his chest all over again.]}

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(It is not the first time that Eddie has had this dream. It isn't going to be the last, either. He still dreamed of the leper the same way he still dreamed of Pennywise. Sometimes he even had dreams where he was laying in a hospital bed, a disease festering and rotting through him, and in those dreams he always felt as if he could feel the disease crunching its way through him until it finally reached his brain and made everything go quiet. Then there were the nightmares where his mother kept making him eat bowls of pills, like they were cereal, and she kept telling him 'everything was going to be okay, Eddie, you just need to take your medicine!'

But this nightmare was always a little worse. It was the one nightmare he didn't know how to talk about with his friends. It made him feel a weighty guilt. It felt like in his subconscious, he didn't trust his friends, and he knew that wasn't true. But what if that's what they thought?

Being left in the sewers to rot indefinitely. Or maybe not at all. He'd had dreams where he felt rats eating at his dead body, or was looking down at himself from above and watched the way the eyes went first. Sometimes in the dream it was him as he was now: a kid.

Not tonight. Tonight he felt the arm rip free, and felt himself bleed out. He could feel himself being left behind, and he wanted to cry out for them to come back. He was scared to be left where it was cold, dark, and evil.

Eddie doesn't remember waking up, and maybe that's the worst part. One moment he's staring at the top of the sewers, and next he's staring at his ceiling, and honestly, right then, he couldn't differentiate between the two. He couldn't tell whether he could actually hear water dripping, or if that was just an echo of the nightmare.

He doesn't remember finding his inhaler from under his pillow but he grabs at it, clutching it in a small fist. He doesn't use it. Doesn't need to. But the familiar shape against his palm offered a temporary sense of comfort over his raging heartbeat. His body was a little slick with sweat, and he wasn't so sure he could move.

At least not until he heard the door click open. Eddie doesn't move right away, just staring up at the ceiling. It's a mental thing. He doesn't realize he can move. Still split between the realism of the nightmare, and waking up alone in the dark. They left me behind. His face was wet with silently cried tears, and he doesn't realize that either.

Then all at once he sucks in a quiet, asthmatic sounding breath. Awake. He's awake. Eddie struggles to push himself up onto his elbow, blinking sluggishly. The shape in the door is dark, and for a second, Eddie feels blurry confusion. Then things stop distorting, and he recognizes Jake. He's almost surprised. He had thought Bill, or maybe Richie, but it was Jake. He goes to ask what's wrong, but his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. A part of him felt like he could still taste the sewer water in his mouth.

Instead of saying anything, Eddie slumps back down into the bed, his small body collapsing with quiet relief. A sigh escapes him. He covers his free hand over his face, rubbing slowly at it. A massive part of him is grateful for the other boy's presence, but a bigger part of him felt a violent urge to call Jake over. He's used to the luxury of his friends being nearby now, and he'd gotten used to having someone to hold onto when he was frightened. Only he doesn't really know how to ask that of Jake. Even as he slowly begins to shake all over.)

(Sorry. Did I scream or something?)

(He doesn't really think about how he was in a soundproof room. Jake and him spoke like this often, and so he thinks maybe he could have accidentally screamed in his head.)

_{[This isn't the sewers; it's too unnaturally quiet in the house to be that awful place in the dream. There's stench of decay, no water splashing, no things scurrying about in the dark. But the stillness is the same, made worse by the fact that from the doorway he can see Eddie's eyes are open and unmoving, light reflecting on their glassy whites.

Eddie.

And then the boy in question is moving, gasping (in surprise, perhaps, at an intruder) and rising up to see who it is, and Jake can breathe again. Summons aren't needed in this case; Eddie relaxing is enough of an invitation for Jake to approach the bed where he lays, needing to see for himself the other's all right... still whole, still soft where maturity hasn't yet filed the planes of his face into sharp edges.

Up close, the tear tracks are evident. Jake stops a foot from the bed, lips parting. Clarity and certainty gradually fill in the spaces fear had been filling--that hadn't been a dream concocted by his own mind. Could he have... seen Eddie's vision somehow? Looking at Eddie, that piece of the puzzle slips into place. He has to subdue the impulse to jump on the bed and throw his arms around the other, reaffirming reality with touch.]}

( No, but... I just felt like I had to see you. Were you dreaming just now? )

_{[A step closer takes him up to the bed, hand ghosting the bedspread.]}

Edited 2018-03-02 10:24 (UTC)

(Wide gray eyes stare up from the bed at Jake. The quiet is explosive around them, and Eddie wondered idly if a Sound Eater had ever swooped in when someone's heartbeat got too erratic. It suddenly felt very, very possible. His empty hand spreads open over his own chest, right over where his heart was still thumping, and he forces himself to breathe. In. Out. He wasn't alone. The others were down the hallway, and Jake was right here.

Right here.

Those same eyes blink slowly, focusing on Jake then. Jake who was psychic, who had this established connection to Eddie, and Jake who seemed to be looped closer into Eddie's life than any other stranger he's met through this strange world traveling. Jake who 'felt like he had to see him' so soon after a nightmare. Eddie pulls himself up into a sitting position. He rolls towards Jake, and moves to tuck his inhaler back under his pillows.)

(It was more of a nightmare, I guess.)

(Eddie doesn't say much more than that. Instead, he keeps on staring at Jake. His entire body hummed with anxiety, but not just from his dream. It was funny. Were this Bill or Richie, he would have pulled them down already. But he wasn't sure if he was allowed to with Jake.

Then again, Jake had come to him in the dead of night just because he had to see him. That sort of thing was ringing loudly in Eddie's head for some reason, and it's the very thing that got him sitting up onto his knees facing Jake. He leans out and wraps his arms around Jake's neck, pulling him close for a tight hug.)

( Was it... )

_{[The dream (vision) still has its claws in him and Jake's heart isn't doing much better than Eddie's, pulse a painful throb in his neck. Fear of the answer trips him up on asking the question. As far as he's aware, he's never done anything like it before. See inside someone else's head while asleep.]}

( Were you dreaming about the sewers...? )

_{[Whether Eddie's dream or Jake's dream, there can be no doubt--it'd been a nightmare, and a blood chillingly bad one.

Eddie shifts, slides to the edge of the bed, and then both arms are reaching--both, whole and intact--around him, seeking the grounding nature of touch first. Jake been in Eddie's position too many times to think twice--he ignores the wetness on the side of his face when Eddie's cheek brushes against him and locks his arms around the boy's middle, holding on like the ocean of dreams might drag them under and drown them both in its waters if he doesn't.]}

( It's okay, it's okay. You're okay. )

(Oh.

The word seemed to breathe out around Eddie, and he wasn't sure if he said it out loud, in his mind to Jake, or privately. Maybe all the above. But the moment Jake's arms are around him, something clicks into place and that cold, dreadful feeling of abandonment begins to relax from the base of his skull.

Then there was the smell. The sewers with their stench of rot and horror couldn't compete against the real, in the flesh smell of Jake. Jake who was very much alive and dry and good. Jake who wasn't bleeding out, who wasn't soaked to the bone with that chilly fear-sweat. Jake who smelled like his friends, who smelled like the best parts of summer. The safe parts of summer. His hand, the hand of the arm he lost in the dream, grabbed hard at the back of Jake's shirt. Alive.

He was alive. And he wasn't alone.)

(Yeah. I was dreaming about...I was dreaming about how I died. And how...When I die, I'm forgotten. By my friends. By everyone. I'm...)

(His arms seize around Jake tighter and gosh. Eddie reluctantly pulls away from Jake, sitting back down onto his calves so he could rub at his face. He curls his hands over and peeks at Jake from between his hands. He gives a soft sniff before easing back against his headboard.)

(I'm sorry if this makes me sound like a baby...But could you stick around? Even for a little. If you don't want to, it's okay. I just.)

(Really didn't want to be alone right then.)

_{[Tunnels. A man with Eddie's dark hair dying, if not already read. Retreating footsteps and voices. Jake has time to think one word--fuck.]}

( I was having the same dream. )

_{[He doesn't know how or why, but it matches, down to the gut-clenching feeling of loneliness. Is there anything sadder than a person left like a piece of garbage in a godawful place like that lair?

Eddie's hand bunches in his shirt as if by holding it he can hold himself together, and Jake lets himself be the buoy to grab onto if it means staying afloat.]}

( You don't sound like a baby. ) _{[Human. He sounds human. As answer, Jake settles on the edge of the bed facing Eddie.]} ( Yeah, I'll stay. )

(Eddie stares at Jake with disquieted eyes. Jake saw him. Eddie doesn't ask how, doesn't ask if he's sure. Just as Jake saw Eddie in his dreams, Eddie knew that it was the exact same dream. Maybe it was childish willingness to believe a friend, or maybe it was something much more concrete and real.

But Eddie knew that Jake had seen. Which meant Jake had seen that his body had been abandoned. His hands curl and he presses them against his belly, feeling that sharp sliver of tightness wrap itself back around his lungs. Like a rubber band squeezing them together. Pinching until he had to dig his hand back under the pillow for his inhaler.

He draws it up and as he wheezes out a sharp, asthmatic sounding breath, he uncaps the inhaler, gives it a hard shake, and slams it into his mouth to push off a blast. He sucks it in, and lets the placebo work its strange magic on his mind. He can feel himself unwind, head lowering down part in shame, part in relief. He takes the inhaler out of his mouth and simply rests his forehead against his knees- not having remembered at all bringing them up to his chest.

Eddie moves jerkily then. He gets out of the bed and rushes into the bathroom, into his closet. He strips out of his sweaty clothes, pouring them into the hamper he had for his laundry, and dries himself off with a towel. He pulls on fresh clothes and rubs his face a few times. Another pop off the inhaler, and he turns around. He goes to his bedroom door and shuts it, pushing the silencer just under the door to officially seal the room off and make it entirely soundproof again.

He crawls back into bed, and turns his pillows over. He tucks his inhaler away and collapses onto his belly, burrowing his face into his pillow for a couple of seconds before he pulls it out, rolls it over, and looks at Jake through the dark. At the space between them. His entire body itches for closeness, but he can't work it around in his mind still. What if Jake got the wrong idea?)

Can I...(His voice comes out before he can stop it and it holds still in the quiet of the room.)

Would it be weird if I...um. (How does one ask to cuddle a bro without explicitly describing it that way.)

_{[He's woken to adrenaline buzzing under his skin like a hive of bees before, and the odd, dizzying sensation of hollowness that follows once it fades from the body. He's used his sheets to wipe away sticky tear tracks. He's listened hard to the darkness, alert for any fragments of nightmares that may have come alive when he wasn't looking, and almost thought the darkness was echoing back, it felt so alive. He's experienced all those things--but it's the first time it's ever been in relation to someone else's nightmare.

He can see why it'd put a red X on Eddie's wall and tears on his face, and has him reaching for his inhaler. Even secondhand, Jake can't completely get that feeling of dirty water and abandonment off his skin. His chest is squeezing tight with a sympathetic feeling of suffocation.

But that, too, is fading with distance--and he hopes it is for Eddie as well.

While the other goes about what he assumes is a much-needed distraction in the form of busywork, Jake sits and wonders who had reached out to whom to get him perched on the edge of Eddie's bed like this--had his mind gone out to Eddie's, or had the force of Eddie's nightmare called out to him? Both seem possible, Eddie's vision is like one long, bloody, voiceless scream into the ether.

He's no closer to an answer by the time Eddie returns seeking the counsel of his pillow, Jake's eyes tracking his movement.]}

Do you want me to sit here awhile until you can go back to sleep?

_{[He pulls his legs up beside him, content to make himself a presence as long as the other boy needs one. If all he could use is a sentry to stand watch while he rests to make sure no more visions of adulthood sneak up on him, Jake can do that, too.]}

(Why were things so complicated sometimes? Eddie pressed his face back into the pillow and for a wild second he just wanted to scream. At the messy loudness inside of him that wouldn't relax for five seconds, at the near violent want and neediness pouring into him. Eddie didn't recognize the feeling in whole, as it had never felt so prominent before. A part of him wondered how much of it had to do with the dream, that cold feeling of abandonment, and how much of it...

Eddie closes his eyes and thought for a second to cover his ears as if it would somehow muffle every single awful thought that's ever entered his head space.

You should stick with being bold.

He exhales against the pillow and rolls over onto his side so that he was facing Jake.)

Jesus. Just stay the night here. Make it a sleepover. Okay?

(He bites his lip. If Jake weren't curled up against himself Eddie would have outright flopped on top of him, but he doesn't bother reaching for him. Instead, he rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes.)

I can still hear the water in the sewers when I think too hard. It'll be nice knowing you're here next to me, Jake. The worst part about that dream is waking up alone. Cause I have that moment where I wonder if I really am...still me, and not that other me, that dead me.

(Eddie's voice fades off and he stops talking entirely, his eyes having opened back up. It isn't very often he expresses those scraping innermost parts of his head. He talked about the bad shit in his life fine enough, sure. But that was because most of it had felt like it had happened to him at the surface. He had experienced it was his friends.

But the headstuff....The stuff that made him a whole lot different than his friends...That stuff he didn't talk about with anyone. Not his momma, not his best friends...No one. Yet there he was, hedging against the subject more bluntly than he had before. Not that he was about to delve in exactly, but Eddie was feeling cracked open and exposed. That and he distinctly recalled them talking about shrinks before, and how Jake used to go to one. He thought maybe it would be okay if he actually said what was on his mind for once.)

_{[Eddie's litany of concerns over propriety doesn't occur to Jake. Say no more--he pauses only so long as it takes to think about whether he needs to change or grab an extra blanket from his room.]}

All right. I'll stay.

_{[Voice more breath than whisper, he punctuates his answer by crawling further onto the bed, twisting around so that he can prop himself up on his elbow on the unoccupied side next to Eddie. He exhales softly. The shadows seem less harsh and sinister now with two sets of eyes keeping watch for the monsters under the bed instead of one.

He waits until Eddie's eyes are open again before he speaks.]}

Was that the vision of the future you said you got?

Thank you.

(His entire body sags with relief, and that relief sinks deeper into his bones when Jake moves more entirely onto the bed. His fingers are tense though where they rest over the blanket. He tucks them into the material, curling until his knuckles ached, and then letting go. He doesn't know what he expects, honestly. Maybe something like That's weird or That's a loony thought but none of that comes.

Eddie shuts his eyes again and something loosens up in the pit of his chest. An anxiety unfolds and he doesn't answer Jake right away. Instead, he rolls himself over and forgets what he was so anxious about before. He just tucks himself up against Jake's front and rests his face against Jake's chest. An arm wrangles over Jake's waist and he clings on. This. This was much better.

He gives a tiny nod at last in response.)

Yes. I saw....(His wife- ...Stan...But his words die in his throat. And he tries again.) I saw my arm getting ripped off, and how I was dying and then afterwards, I saw my friends...

(This is always where he can't quite finish the thought, the statement. It felt sour and wrong to say. But he doesn't think he needs to say it.)

I know they wouldn't. Not the ones I know now. I don't know what fucks us all up so bad in the future- but those future versions of us...That's not us.

_{[Surprise washes through him at the sudden close contact, but it doesn't last long. What Eddie had been working up to asking for suddenly falls into place. A hug is a normal thing to want, after a grisly sight like that.

He's carried back to a memory of a school camping trip where the weather had taken a turn over the course of the night, and his tent of boys had spent it tugging on layers just to keep feeling in t heir toes. Peter Hildebrand had been so cold he'd slept pressed into the small of Jake's back the whole time, huddled like a shivering animal. Eddie pressing into him reminds him of that night, although in this case it's not cold Eddie is seeking shelter from.

Or maybe it is. Just a different kind of cold, one on the inside.]}

I didn't know it was that bad... There were a couple of other adults there. They were all standing around him. They didn't notice me, butt it was like I was there, watching.

_{[Him, not you. He doesn't want to tug the drawstring and pull the association tighter, wonder which one had been Bill and which one Richie, or what they were thinking as they walked away and left their friend's corpse to the ghosts of all the other children IT had slain. He relaxes his elbow and lowers himself down, bringing the arm around to drape gently atop Eddie's head. Shielding. Holding him there.

He hasn't been in this position very often, whether with a girl or a boy, and he can only go off of what feels right; giving Eddie his companionship and his warmth feels right.]}

Then it won't be--you have to believe that. You're not him, and you're not alone. You're here. You're okay.

( I promise I won't forget you. )

(Eddie, on the other hand, was used to the luxury of Bill or Richie's comfort. He was used to their arms wrapped around him serving as a magical sort of barrier against all the worst parts of his mind. He had never hunkered down like this with someone outside of the Losers Club though. He'd hugged plenty of people before, but this was different. This was an investment in comfort, not just a passing squeeze of reassurance. Jake accepting it with his arms around Eddie allowed something final to rest in place inside of Eddie when it came to Jake.

It wasn't the first time that he had connected the word 'safe' to Jake Chambers, but this time, there was room for more than just safe. Jake wasn't like the Losers, but Eddie didn't need him to be. Jake stood singularly outside of that. And that wasn't a bad thing.

He's glad he's not pushed away. He's happier still that Jake didn't just lay there stiff and unmoving.

He notices what Jake does. Doesn't say you. Eddie....He appreciates that more than he ever thought he would. It was pointless to ask questions when they would never know the answers. Eddie knew which one had been Richie, had tried to tell him something important before dying, but he didn't know what any one of them were thinking either. And asking the children versions of Bill and Richie would amount to nothing either. Neither of the boys could even fathom what would ever make them do that.

But Eddie...he does decide to tell Jake something. Something that has worked itself deep into Eddie.)

My friend Ben....You don't know him....He said...He said that he that the sewers was where I was supposed to be.

(There's a break at the end and Eddie squeezes against Jake harder. He no longer felt sore about Bev or Bill or Richie. Even despite the nightmares. But that was something that haunted him on the regular. The child Ben hadn't been around since seeing it. Nothing had been rest assured inside of Eddie as far as that went.)

Sometimes I think he might of been right. There's...There's real bad things about me-

(His voice spikes a bit hysterically but then it's abruptly cut off by Jake's psychic message. It shakes his entire being and it's enough to draw him back from Jake just enough to stare at him. Even in the dark, his glassy eyes are telltale of nearly spilled tears. Eddie's soul was a soft thing, easily bruised, but as easily as it was bruised, it was just as easily influenced by kindness and goodness. Kindness and goodness like that of an eleven year old boy promising something so earnest and simple, but promising something so monumental to Eddie that it struck him quiet.

He feels a fierceness grow all the way through his body and in that fierceness he settles on a firm belief that Jake was someone very much worth dying for, someone worth everything.)

(You really mean that, don't you?)

... What?

_{[Surprise parts his lips. Jake hears what Eddie murmurs into the space between them perfectly clearly, but the words fail to make sense. Eddie's friend had said what?

Even without having seen that death-filled place with his own eyes, even without it having to do with a friend, that'd be a terrible thing to say to someone. Jake fails to see how anyone deserves to be near IT's proximity, living or dead.

And Jake has the conviction certainly not Eddie. Not the boy with the warmest, most giving disposition of anyone. On his first, Eddie had taken him into his friendship quickly, and hadn't let up since--and it's done more to keep Jake together than the other boy can know. Maybe Eddie doesn't see the frayed strings holding Jake in one piece, but he knows he's not far from seeing them break were he to linger too long in certain halls of his mind. Having Eddie to come home to and battle this place together with has been a balm for bleeding wounds.

Taking into account what he's done just for Jake here, who is anyone to say that to Eddie?

The older boy shifts, and Jake's hand retracts to the back of his neck. It hurts to see him like this, thinking he's irrevocably chained to that fate in the vision.]}

( Yeah. )

_{[Just one word, but perfectly suited to making his surety known. He doesn't think anything else needs to be said. Yeah, he'll remember the first real friend he made who kept him from dropping his marbles all over the floor. He reaches up to ruffle the front of Eddie's hair, a playful drag of fingertips through brown locks. Please don't cry.]}

( There's nothing wrong with you, Eddie. Whatever it is is just another part of you. Nothing you've done or will do means you deserve that. )

(Eddie gives the smallest shrug. There was absolutely nothing he could think of to even try and defend Ben. Bill had insisted on leaving Eddie in the sewers first, and Bev had agreed. But Ben had taken it a step further by saying that and that, maybe more than anything else, stuck with Eddie.

Some part of him kept wondering if Ben had always known about the awful things inside of Eddie- if he thought he deserved it because of that.

Would he be wrong? Sometimes Eddie's not so sure.

He had gotten his peace with the others, but he wasn't so sure he would ever get his peace with Ben. That was.....It was a big statement to be made. Maybe they couldn't have dragged his body out for whatever reason, but why one earth would Ben ever imply that.....Even though Eddie still couldn't quite understand why about his body. Richie had been carrying him all right. Eddie was small....and probably even lighter without an arm...

He tries to not let himself fall back into wondering why. Eddie presses closer to Jake, and he finds a guilty relief that Jake was outside of the equation. Jake, he likes to think, wouldn't do that. Or at the very least, Jake would have told Ben to suck a fat one if he heard him say Eddie deserved that kind of burial (maybe not in so many words). The idea gives him an odd sense of gratitude- perhaps misplaced, but it's a fantasy that makes him happy and he was selfishly take it right then.

Eddie's whole everything softens, and he looks somehow both older and younger all at once. No. Nothing else had to be spoken. He knew with a certainty that Jake meant that.

The hair ruffle breaks his train of thought, and he makes this soft breathy sound of surprise. His eyes squeeze shut, and no, he wasn't going to cry. Not yet anyway. He swallows thickly, and for a delirious moment, he lets himself believe what Jake was saying. Let's himself remember words Clara had once told him about the same thing.

At the end, he had no idea how Jake could have such effortless faith in him.)

(How do you know? I could have done awful things or think awful things.)

_{[If people had a little more effortless faith, maybe it wouldn't have taken meeting the man in black to believe in his existence. Or Roland nearly throwing him off a cliff to accept his visions.

But this? It's as easy as breathing to be convinced.

The shared warmth of Eddie huddled close like a person much younger in years is relaxing in its own way after the humid horror of the dream and the cold sweat drying on his skin. He rests his cheek against a pillow, drawing comfort from the contact.]}

( You really want to argue with a psychic? )

(Eddie's hand moves over Jake's chest, right over where his heart beat was steadily pumping. He stokes idly, just to feel, and closes his eyes. It's a little like hearing the ocean rush up to his feet, feeling it push between his toes and carry away with the sand it had brought with it. That was a lot like Jake's voice. Eddie grins.)

(It's a little fun to argue with a psychic sometimes.)

(But no, he wasn't going to keep arguing the point right then. Jake was far too kind to him. Eddie shifted forward, resting his forehead against Jake's neck and he can already feel sleep starting to prickle at his eyes all over again.)

(Thanks, Jake. You're way too good to me.)

( I know I'm right about this much. You're not a bad person. None of you are. A million things could change while we're growing up... We get to decide what we do along the way, what kind of people we'll be. One moment a bunch of years in the future doesn't mean much next to all the other moments we can't guess when you really think about it.

More reason to beat that demon before it comes back to your town again. )

_{[He puts his arm back over Eddie, hand on his shoulder. A solid presence to say he's here no matter what Eddie needs to get out or what he's feeling, although he's relieved to see the other boy's humor start to come back.]}

( My mom used to stay with me when I had nightmares sometimes. You don't have to handle it alone, either. )

(You can't PROVE that you know. Besides, I'm almost positive that 'goodness' is a subjective opinion anyway. Or objective? I can never remember which one is which.

I try and remind myself everything can change. Trust me. I don't want to wind up in that sewer either. I'm just...Who knows.)

(He just had a bad gut feeling that he was doomed to a grisly death. He'd already broken that same arm twice over. He's glad for Jake's presence, his touch, and he presses into it. It was just nice to have a friend with him.)

(Your mom sounds like a really nice woman.

If you ever need me to stay with you on bad nights, I don't mind either. I like sleepovers anyway.)

( Subjective. And I already told you, I know. That's objective. )

_{[That's as far as he's going to budge on the point--that is to say, not at all. Fighting Eddie on whether or not there's something so innately terrible about him he's fated to have his arm chewed off by a clown demon isn't a fight worth having. He's not, and he doesn't, and if that's what fate intends, fate's worth fighting, too.]}

( She was. She was a good mom. )

_{[Jakes closes his eyes in the image of sleep as he says it and keeps them closed. Anytime the subject of his mother comes up, it's easier to conjure up pleasant memories and replay them on the backs of his eyelids like this rather than focus on the terrible one of her demise. If he doesn't, he's afraid his mental voice will crack; emotions are never far from the surface when it comes to that particular wound.

However, at the return offer he opens them to look down at what he can see of Eddie, curled up so tight he's more ball than person. He thinks what he really needs is to learn how do deal with his head full of nightmares and not need that kind of comfort as much. But it's not such a bad thought, having someone around.]}

( I can be a restless sleeper. Fair warning. But you know you can always stay in my room whenever you want. Door's always open that way. )

Edited 2018-04-01 10:47 (UTC)

(Okay, okay, okay. Jeez.)

(Except Eddie's voice sounds oddly fond. He wouldn't argue about it with Jake. A part of him realized when it was a moot point. He had come to similar conclusions with Richie and Bill. Neither of those boys would ever budge to let Eddie doubt himself in the slightest. Even Richie who would admit yeah, Eddie, you're shrieky would always shape it in a flattering way. 'It's cute when you scream!'

And a big part of it had to do with the fact that they had seen how his mother treated him. Eddie had a gift of putting himself down and that gift had been hand crafted by Sonia Kaspbrak. It wasn't just Christian guilt that made him think so poorly of himself, after all.

But then boys like Jake and the others came along with their firm stances and Eddie could barely fight against it.

Eddie looks up at Jake when he says that. He wonders if Jake's mom is like Clara. No wonder Jake is so calm and ...everything good. Eddie doesn't need to be a mind reader to know it's not an easy subject. He reaches his hand up and gently pets the top of Jake's head, fingers sliding through his hair in hopes to comfort Jake a little.)

(I don't mind, Jake. Be restless all you want. You're not alone here and you don't need to deal with anything alone. You can stay with me if you ever need to too.)

_{[So long as Eddie's occupied in a bit of friendly bickering with him, he's not worrying himself sick about his future self; it's a fair trade off, in Jake's opinion. He doesn't have siblings, but if he'd had a brother or a sister to share a bed with like this and combine courage with, maybe the bad nights wouldn't have been so bad and the things in the dark that scare him not as scary. The same with Eddie.

It's a quiet, understated gift, to have met by happenstance here in Reims to be able to share this now. He hopes it helps Eddie sleep some.]}

( I'm supposed to be the one comforting you. ) _{[But he doesn't sound too chagrined at the fingers in his hair. It's almost nice.]} ( Thanks. We look out for each other, right? )

_{[Agreement and affirmation of the deal they'd made--he has Eddie's back and Eddie has his. It can work the same for nightmares.]}

( You know, I haven't dreamed with someone before. It's like we're... connected. )

(Dealing with everything had been much easier on the station back when Bill, Richie, and Eddie stockpiled into the same room to sleep on top of each other. It had been Eddie and Richie laying together the most (though there had been nights where it was just Bill and Eddie), but Bill came along often enough to help squeeze Eddie into the middle of a cozy, safe sandwich. It always helped- and not just Eddie. He knew it made Richie and Bill feel better too. So he had zero doubt that this would be as good for Jake as it would for him.

Even if Jake wasn't quite as affectionate as Bill or Richie. That was okay. Eddie would take what he could get. Eddie scoots himself up a little enough so that he could lean back and look at Jake. His hands come to cup around Jake's face. He presses against it, squishing Jake's face up gently.)

(Too bad. Comfort goes both ways. That's exactly right. If you ever need me, I don't care what I'm doing, okay? My friends come first.)

(Probably obvious at this point, but he felt it worth pointing out. His hands relax against Jake's face, and move back up towards his hair. That's when Jake goes and says that.

For some reason, it makes Eddie's face burn right on up. He's grateful that psychic connections don't communicate that kind of thing and that they were laying in a dark room or else it'd be painfully obvious. He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he fusses a little unnecessarily with Jake's hair.

He sinks down against Jake, tucking his arms against his chest and pressing in close so he could rest his forehead against Jake's shoulder.)

(Maybe we are connected.)

(Eddie sounds oddly shy even through the mental connection. The statement made him feel special, frankly, and he was not a boy who was used to feeling special ever.)

--What're you doing?

_{[Complementary to his physical voice, his mental one is full of laughter when Eddie squishes his face like one of those videos with wrinkly dogs getting their jowls rearranged into funny shapes. The nightmarish vision feels a million miles away with the warmth of Eddie's palms on his skin.]}

( Okay! ) _[Uncle!] ( I get it, I believe you! )

_{[Eddie takes mercy on his face and goes quiet for a few beats, and so Jake does as well, letting him continue playing with his hair and grapple whatever thoughts are grinding away behind his eyes. When he's ready to speak, Jake's here to listen. Eventually Eddie does stop and presses close again, hiding his face back against his shoulder. His voice comes out small and a little muffled.]}

( Seems that way more and more. ) _{[He keeps his tone soft, matching Eddie's which has gone as faint as a whisper. The feeling he gets from it isn't one of distress or sadness, though. Jake pulls the covers up, settling them a bit more firmly around Eddie.]} ( Feeling better? )

What I want.

(Simple enough response. His actions work though and Eddie is soon grinning like an absolute goon. It's a nice feeling to have Jake's laughter rolling around in his head. Nightmares were easy to forget tucked away behind moments like these.)

(Good. You should of to start with.)

(The last time Eddie had felt this safe had been a little while ago. Trapped between the warmth of two boys who, Eddie sometimes thought, would burn the entire world down if it meant keeping Eddie safe. He's not so sure Jake is quite that protective of him, but those arms around him and tugging that blanket up certainly make him feel...

He feels like he belongs exactly right where he is and that isn't a feeling he has too often.)

(A lot better. You make things better. Thanks, Jake.)

(He wiggles a little bit in the bed, and then picks his head up to ghost a kiss against the side of Jake's face. Not quite on his cheek, but closer to his temple. He tucks back down a moment later, squishing in close, and getting himself comfortable.)

(I think maybe I can try to sleep again now.)

_{[He gives Eddie's face a little push. Very funny.

He's certainly no Bill or Richie. He gets the same sense of things being similar but not quite the same when Eddie kisses his face--the act is the same, but Eddie's no parent tucking him in at the end of the night and the pair of lips are different. If he knew the thoughts circling in Eddie's head, he'd be a little apologetic on his part he can't comfort the other boy in the exact way he's accustomed to. Friends of two weeks aren't of the same caliber as friends of many years (and of a ka-tet, no less, though Jake would recognize the comfortable fit of the word and less the word itself), but they have a bond, that much is undeniable.

Between encountering echoes of Pennywise the clown across worlds and now this, they are connected in some way, Jake can feel it. It lends a comfortableness to his interactions with Eddie he doesn't have with many other people.]}

( You don't have to thank me, I know how much having nightmares sucks. Get some sleep--I'll be here. )

_{[And then, after a moment's soft silence:]}

( ... Goodnight. )

_{[Tomorrow is a new day, an unsettling day, but for tonight there'll be no more nightmares at the very least.]}

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

♜ caught in a bad dream

this got so dumb long wtf

you say dumb long, i say perf

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh look at your self what the heeeelll kinda BULLShit!

umm this is some bullshit right back, i'm offended

>:O

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ugh i keep word puking on you

thanks for the emetophilia kink

i hate that you just made me read that with my own two eyes

you brought it on yourself

:O

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