#In a dream you saw / a way to survive / and you were full of joy

[thefandomlesbian]

Back to House fic!!

I may not have Joy finished by the end of the year like I hoped, but I've made mad progress on it over the past few months and I'm super pleased with how far it's come!

[woundgallery]

The Similitude Of This Great Flower

Elizabeth Willis

from Meteoric Flowers

Wesleyan Press, 2008

[my4lg1c-p1err0t]

“In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy”

another Truism blinkie, this one was too long to scroll but still fun to make :)

[prettygirlgerard]

Hayley…

[harmonymcadams]

had a dream about m*ddie where everything worked out so that’s awesome. certainly gonna carry that bittersweet feeling throughout the day

[baravaggio]

the jenny holzer tattoo really puts the cherry on top of the menial labor experience

[brown-little-robin]

so... I made a collage for Eight (my beloved). idk if this is exactly the right vibes but I thought you'd like to see anyway 😅

these are

EXACTLY

the Eight vibes

[okaymeg]

AHHAHAH i actually one time in like 2017 in portland i almost got the BIG CHALLENGES guy tattooed under my boobs. like this but with the words above the little man.

i was so sure about it and i made an appointment and i put down the deposit and got brunch with my friends before hand and made a whole day out of it... got to the shop, the nice tattoo artist stenciled it on and all of a sudden it was like someone doused cold water over my head and i snapped to my senses and was like 'actually you know what nevermind i cant do this.' and just left. nd she kept the deposit ofc. that was a big moment of clarity for me

[beingharsh]

so it turns out they're taking away the dreams in which you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy

[thewriters-world]

Omg yes!! I saw a poll on what would be a better Hollywood movie rosquez or brocedes

And I was like hands down brocedes, because that's Monaco & Ibiza, a neat little story of growing up, growing apart, giving up on shared dreams. All the glitz and glamour. The way Nico keeps saying nice things and Lewis keeping his silence. A bit of modicum.

Rosquez however could never be Hollywood, they are unhinged, they are gritty, down & dirty, blunt fingernails scrambling to hold on in dark alleyways, it's being on top of the world and seeing your end approaching you wrapped up in smooth golden muscle and a mouth that never ends, it's touching legends, getting on that pedestal and then being isolated on there by the very hands that welcomed you in, it's European art film that is full of shadows and long silences, things never said and hands reaching out too late, it's his voice whispering everytime you fall, it's seeing him in every rider, knowing he would be crazier, faster, fiercer.

Brocedes could have survived if they were less ambitious/less greedy/less driven than they were, Rosquez never had an option because the things that drew them together are the things that they despise about each other.

OP YOUR VISION!

You've described rosquez so perfectly. They're like ruined somehow. Like Marc has his claws in Valentino and Valentino has his claws in Marc and yh they've let go but their bodies, brains HEARTS are still bloody and bruised. Lewis and Nico are healing but will Marc and Valentino ever heal? Idk Valentino says it'll take him 30 years to get over this and Marc says reconciliation is not upto him. So will they be tainted with marks of each other for 30 years? Does everything become more sullied when you remember that Marc had hung posters of Valentino on his bedroom wall and was buying replica bikes until 2015? Is it more cruel that Valentino knew all of this and not only did he do what he did to Marc when he was 22, he denied Marc a concrete part of his personality by saying he doesn't belive Marc had those posters (it's been documented you senile old man!). He basically said I don't know you, I never knew you. Is this all way more horrid when you consider that Marc thought getting into motogp with his idol would mean that Valentino actually KNEW him and they could be friends and then Valentino throws it right back into his face 'I want to see those posters' (I've never known you, I've never looked at those pictures of young you with my motorbikes, I've never paid attention, whilst you devoted your whole life to my life, your life was simply a speck in the grand scheme of events that is my life). Obviously its not true, it's a way to hurt Marc (we all know Valentino actually LIKED marc). But doesn't that make it all the more cruel, you treated someone you actually had affection for like this. Also is it more hurtful when you remember that Valentino told Marc ill protect you from these people if they're mean to you just let me know (not verbatim) but you're the meanie Valentino so now who does Marc go to. The people you turned against him?

Brocedes is way more tame bcs there was no idolisation, sure there was friendship, affection and childlike hope, but never once did Nico and Lewis decide that they didn't have what they had. Nico doesn't denounce the time they sat in hotel rooms and ate frosties, Lewis doesn't hide the fact that karting with Nico provided him joy as a child. Lewis can say Nico isn't his friend, but he hasn't ever said 'I've never known Nico' even when Nico acts a fool whilst commentating on races just to get his attention Lewis wouldn't be so cruel to deny ever having a relationship with Nico. Nico and Lewis are connected in a more concrete and wholesome way (Lewis gives Nico's daughters gifts). Marc and Valentino are connected in a more brutal way (they still have the bruises, the bleeding wounds of whatever they had with one another, friendship, affection companionship idk). That's the only similarity, they are still connected, their legacies are interspersed with one another. Something about how Lewis was there for nicos first and last podium. Something about how everywhere Marc goes, he is haunted by how Valentino has painted him to other people. Even in the one similarity between brocedes and rosquez you can see the abject dirtiness of rosqiez and the wholesomeness of brocedes.

[ech0ech0ech0]

IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY

Jenny Holzer, Truisms // Bears In Trees, Evergreen // I Hope You Heal, illustrated by @Redgoldsparks, text by @prettypositivity, @i-don’t-believe-in-perfect, & @lilbutch // Juno Roche, Gender Explorers // art by @inkipri // Clementine von Radics, In a Dream You Saw a Way to Survive (The Last Poem)

[morning-star-joy]

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Established Relationship, ASHWAH Universe

Summary: You settle into your relationship with Joel, but struggle with the anxiety of possibly losing him one day.

Warnings: Themes of Anxiety and Grief, Description of a Panic Attack, Angst from PTSD/Loss. Hurt/Comfort. Talking about emotions/fears. Very brief mention of sex. Some things can be read as foreshadowing for Part 2 (it's not canon in ASHWAH universe, but can be interpreted that way)

Wordcount: 3.6k

A/N: Been struggling with writing lately, so I ended up going back to my roots and writing some more for ASHWAH. This was a little thought experiment on how Reader would adjust to a relationship and reveal some of her anxiety around it, along with a bit of Joel's. I may end up writing a companion piece of Joel's anxieties from his POV.

When you knew you were in love with Joel Miller, the three words falling softly from his lips and pulling them from your own in a confession you hadn’t consciously realized you felt until that moment, you wondered how you hadn’t known before.

There was some part of you, something resting deep in your soul, that knew you loved him all along. There were a few times where you think you realized it—after Thanksgiving on that rainy street, during the holiday party when you opened the gift hand carved by him and caught his gaze from across the room—but another part of you, the girl who was still so unsure and afraid of anything resembling that kind of love, kept you from fully acknowledging it.

Still, there had been no ounce of hesitation when you repeated his affection back to him with your own that first time when lying in bed, and that whole morning where you laid in each other’s arms and dreamed up another life together was a memory that quickly became one of your most cherished moments.

You didn’t profess your love for each other at every waking moment. Most of the time, you didn’t say it at all, instead letting it speak for itself in the way you moved around each other, the way you touched each other, casual as much as intimate, with such a comfortable ease that said everything you ever needed to know.

Those moments where you did repeat the three words to each other were still some of your favorites, though. They came so naturally, murmured against each other’s lips in the heat of a passionate embrace, Joel’s rough voice mumbling it against your ear after he stole a kiss from you while out shopping in Jackson’s markets—one of his favorite activities, for some reason, though you couldn’t quite understand the joy he tried to conceal for those painfully domestic moments in your lives—or your whisper of it as you kissed his cheek before he left for an early morning patrol.

“Come back to me safe,” you’d sometimes add on those mornings, the quiet plea pulling Joel right back to you from where he had moved towards the front door, dropping his backpack to be forgotten momentarily on the ground before he pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss full of all the emotions you both had fought so hard to accept and nurture for each other.

“Oh, mi luna,” Joel would whisper against your lips as he kissed them again and again, unable to resist giving you one more peck even as you pushed him gently away so he wouldn’t keep Tommy waiting at Jackson’s gates. “Always.”

Those were the days where you felt the most anxious. Even though you knew Joel’s near unrivaled skill in combat and survival, having seen it firsthand more than once, you couldn’t help the doubts and fears that crept into the back of your mind if he was just the slightest bit late.

Most the time you managed to contain your pacing to the house you now shared with him, wearing a hole in the floorboards in front of the front door until it opened, and you’d spin around, feeling all the anxiety flood from your body as you saw his tired face from a long day of hard work, relaxing in the same moment he did when you saw each other.

But if Joel was just the slightest bit late, you’d be out the door, walking down the streets until you were pacing in front of the gates, waiting with increasing panicked breaths until the gates were open. Your entire body would tense as you hoped you wouldn’t see one of the Miller brothers walking in alone, then relaxing when you saw them both ride in on their horses each time.

“Hey,” Joel said quietly as he brought his stallion to a stop, quickly demounting it to move towards you when he saw the look on your face that first time you were waiting at the gates. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing,” you sighed, shaking your head to try and rid him of his own worry, something you failed in and felt guilty for as he cupped your face in his gloved hands.

Tommy would pat you gently on the shoulder before taking his and Joel’s horses back to the stables those days, letting Joel wrap his arm around your shoulder to take you back home.

The very first time you had waited for them like that, your best friend had teased you about it, saying something along the lines of you never having waited like that for just him.

But when he got a closer look at your face, any jokes quickly stopped, understanding exactly what drove your fear even as you tried to ignore the cause, as much as it lingered subconsciously in the back of your mind.

A suicide mission you had begged her not to go on. Days going by with no word from them. Pacing at the entrance to the camp when you caught wind of a radio call that they were returning. Seeing Eugene walk in without her. Without her. Without her.

Some of those nights, you’d wake up struggling to breathe from the nightmares that plagued you, trying to quiet your whimpering not to wake Joel as you curled in on yourself on your side of the bed.

But every time, it was like something woke him up, some deeper part of him knowing that you needed him in those moments, even if you still wouldn’t admit it.

You’d be tangled in the sheets, hand pressed firmly to your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart, only able to relax when you felt the familiarity of Joel’s strong arms snake around you gently and pull you back into his broad chest.

“Don’t let go,” your voice would rasp out into the darkness of your shared bedroom, grabbing his hands where they held you tighter, breathing easier when you felt his lips press to your shoulder. “Please, don’t let go.”

“I’m not letting go,” Joel would always murmur back, voice raspy with sleep, but completely in the moment with you, here to keep you grounded in a way so effortless compared to your struggles to do so by yourself. “I’m with you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Tommy was right with his comments about you waiting for Joel on those long patrol days, even if it was just teasing. Even though the younger Miller brother was your closest friend, you had never felt this anxious over his patrols, or anybody’s—not even Joel’s, not until your love had been confessed out loud to each other.

There was something so painfully vulnerable about what you had with Joel, opening up to him slowly over time until every part of your soul was bare to him, intertwining with him completely until you couldn’t bear the thought of anything ripping him away. Not like how it had happened to you once before.

You had hardly been able to pull yourself back together that time, and you didn’t think you could ever manage to do it again if you lost him too.

But on those nights after long patrols, the ones where your body didn’t succumb to its anxiety, you found yourself having some of your favorite conversations with Joel. Most of the time, you were both too tired to have sex—except for maybe a self-indulgent quickie or mutually getting yourselves off—but instead you both laid comfortably in each other’s arms, heads resting on the same pillow as you talked.

One such night, you hardly even realized as a question you began to mull over slipped past your lips until you heard yourself say, “Were you ever in love before?”

As soon as the last few words fell from your mouth, you froze, feeling Joel’s body stiffen from where his arms were wrapped around you, both of you realizing what you had just said aloud at exactly the same moment.

You coughed, lifting your free hand to cover your mouth, an attempt to try and cover up how horrified you were at the random, blunt question you had asked.

“I—fuck, sorry,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flush as you worried you were prying too much. Even as you had started to open up to each other in as many ways as you could discover, this hadn’t been a topic you had broached yet. “That was fucking weird. I didn’t mean—”

“Yes.”

The simple, one word confirmation brought your face back up, blinking in surprise at Joel

His face wasn’t entirely closed off, but it was pensive; strong brows furrowed to show he was deep in thought, pronouncing the wrinkles on his forehead. You felt the sudden, inexplicable urge to reach up and smooth them out with your fingers, to ease the tension your own words had caused in him.

“Or, I thought I was,” he added in a mumble, eyes focusing in on the scar on your cheek, reaching a hand up to stroke his thumb over it in his usual habit he fell into whenever he wanted to remind himself that you were with him. “It…”

Joel glanced back towards your eyes then, his eyes flickering over your face.

“It felt like it at the time, at least,” he finally said, thumb stroking your scar again.

But his grip around you now was still stiff, still awkward, so you shifted closer to him, pressing your lips to the beard he had grown as much as he could on his jaw, still charmingly patchy in places, before pulling back to look into his eyes, showing you were nothing but open ears for whatever he had to say.

“Oh?” you asked lightly, arching your brows before starting to wiggle them suggestively. “Was there a Mrs. Miller in the picture at some point, then?”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh at your words, his brow smoothing out as he glanced over your face, and you felt that same flutter of emotion, that same surge of love you only ever had for him, unable to help but smile when his arm around your waist loosened from a firm, awkward grip to something more natural again.

“There was,” he confirmed quietly, and your eyes widened briefly in surprise at the gentle answer before you softened again once you saw the conflict in Joel’s eyes. “Didn’t last long, though.”

Your head tilted, watching as unnamed emotions surged in Joel’s gaze before settling into something somber, something melancholic. 

“What happened?” you asked, keeping your voice just as quiet as his, afraid you would shatter the vulnerability of the moment and have to deal with Joel’s walls rebuilding. It didn’t happen that often anymore, but old habits were hard to shake at the worst times.

But as Joel answered your question, you suddenly realized that he had been keeping those walls down just around you, for you, for a while now, “We were young. Far too young. But she was pregnant, and…”

You watched Joel struggle for the words as he shifted his gaze from your scar to your eyes, then back again, as if he was looking at options for what to say, turning them over in his mind before he settled on, “Getting married seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn’t going to be a deadbeat like my own old man.”

Slowly, you began to realize that you were addicted to this side of him—the Joel that opened up to you, telling you things that he may have not said aloud to anybody in years, if at all.

“I quickly learned it wasn’t what she wanted,” Joel huffed out quietly, his face pinching into a pained expression for a moment before it quickly cleared, but that brow was still furrowed, still enhancing every line of age and weariness on his face that you had grown to be so fond of. “She wasn’t ready for marriage, or kids. When she wanted to leave, I didn’t stop her.”

Subconsciously, your free hand lifted to smooth your fingers across the deep furrow in his brow, thumb stroking the wrinkles there. 

When the furrow of his brow finally smoothed out, and Joel glanced back at you with a small, hesitant smile, his thumb stroking along your hip, you melted back into him with relief that he wasn’t regretting letting you in on this little-known fact of his long, tumultuous life.

You wanted to know every crack and chip in Joel’s carefully constructed armor, to feel them underneath your fingers as you ran them over the hidden crevices of his life, knowing the parts of his soul so surely until you couldn’t distinguish them from your own.

“What about you?”

You froze up, blinking in surprise as Joel’s returned question sent nerves ricocheting through you, and you quickly looked away.

“Uh,” you hesitated, clearing your throat as you forced yourself to remove yourself from the present and think back through your life.

When Joel’s thumb stroked along your hip again, his hand squeezing you gently, in a gesture to reassure you that saying nothing was always okay, you found yourself saying, “No.”

“You haven't?” Joel murmured, and you laughed gently at the surprise in his voice at your confession.

“No, not really,” you finally whispered, still not meeting Joel’s gaze as you thought back through your childhood, your time in Seattle up to the whirlwind days with the Fireflies, and then to Jackson. “I mean…maybe I…”

You sighed, forcing yourself to pull your gaze up and finally meet Joel’s eyes.

And when you saw that they were nothing but open and understanding and devastatingly warm, a soft breath was pulled from your lungs, as if just the sight of him looking at you in such a way made you fall even more in love with him.

“So there was someone?” Joel finally asked gently, picking up on what you had left unsaid, his eyes moving over your face, lingering on the scar on your cheek before meeting your gaze again.

You shrugged, suddenly feeling frustratingly shy at the topic of a matter that was so utterly foreign to you, even as you were the one who had brought it up.

Combat? You could do combat, having learned how to fight even before the world went to shit at your father’s urging.

Sex? Oh, you could do sex. It was a familiar coping mechanism, a way to escape the cruel, harsh truths of existence, if only for a little bit.

But feelings?

Emotions?

Love?

Yes, you loved Joel, and you were comfortable telling him now, on more than one occasion. But you had never really talked about love as a whole this much, with anybody, and it frustrated you how out of your depth you still were in it.

But the way that Joel was looking at you now, like he knew what you didn’t, like he knew you—and you knew without a doubt that he did, better than you knew yourself even…it was comforting.

“Maybe,” you finally relinquished, shrugging a shoulder as you gazed up at his face. “I had a…friend.”

Another sigh pulled from your lips as you gently bit your bottom lip, shaking your head again, more to yourself as you thought back to your youth.

“In Seattle,” you elaborated, struggling to get yourself to relive those feelings, let alone admit them. “It was just a stupid crush. Nothing ever came from it.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Joel broke it by almost teasing in a gentle way, “There’s a but in there somewhere.”

You laughed, feeling a sense of relief at his rare show of humor that you cherished every glimpse of, unable to suppress the warmth it made you feel whenever you heard it.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, tilting your head back to glance over his face before looking away. “I guess…sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed. Maybe…”

Trailing off again, you struggled to find the words, until Joel seemingly pulled them right from the deep subconscious part of your mind, or perhaps the buried longing in your heart, “Maybe you could have.”

Your face turned back to him, surprised eyes meeting those of complete understanding, and you softened.

“Yeah,” you murmured, giving a small nod as you watched him watch you.

“I had somebody like that,” he admitted, a frown pulling onto his face as you watched his eyes shift into an even more somber look than when he had been talking about his wife. In fact, it was almost…

“Back in the Boston QZ,” Joel continued, eyes darting away, and your lips parted in a silent breath that was pulled from you as you realized, oh.

Mournful.

His look was one of grief.

Your thumb stroked along his cheekbone, and Joel answered by stroking his own thumb along your hip, his grip tightening on you a fraction before he began to speak about this love lost, “We worked together for years. She was a…companion, I guess. A partner.”

The words sent some kind of nostalgic feeling through you, a memory dangling in the back of your subconscious.

I made a promise to someone.

Joel’s dark expression from then appeared in your mind, followed by your own words that had answered his quiet admission, and then his almost pained confirmation.

Must’ve been someone important, to do that for them.

Yeah.

When you remembered it, you found yourself saying softly, “She’s the one who wanted you to take Ellie, wasn’t she?”

Joel nodded slowly, not seeming surprised in the slightest that you had remembered your discussion in the nursery from so long ago.

“Yeah, Tess,” he said quietly, his voice almost choking on the name, and he cleared his throat as he turned his gaze away from you. “She was…”

You watched as Joel turned onto his back, and you gazed at his side profile, trying to find a pattern in the way his hair curled above his neck as you heard him mutter in a voice that was rough, nearly strangled with grief, “Fuck, she was better than me. She deserved so much more, and I couldn’t give it to her. I…”

Tears began to blur your vision as you heard him whisper almost more to himself than you, “I wasn’t enough.”

He sucked in a breath then, and your heart broke at the way you could hear it shake, your hands reaching out to hold him close, burying your face into his chest as his arms wrapped around you by reflex when he felt your embrace.

“Think that’s what I’m most afraid of, darlin’,” he whispered, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the weight of the somber revelation, feeling a few stray tears fall down your cheeks. “Not being enough. Never being enough.”

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything else as silence filled your room, but when he mumbled again, you pulled yourself up to look at the man who you knew was the love of your life—maybe every life you ever had, and would have.

“What are you afraid of?”

You took another deep breath, wishing that you didn’t have to answer. Wishing that you could just fade into him, without ever having to leave this moment.

But after all this time, Joel deserved an answer. You knew he did.

And so you steeled yourself, treating it as casually as talking about the weather, even as your voice shook as you whispered one simple word.

“Loss.”

Joel froze, his body stiffening underneath where your chest rested against his. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world even as you continued, “I’ve lost so much, I can’t—I can’t…”

He didn’t say anything then, even as his body relaxed again, because he knew.

You knew, you both knew, that loss was everywhere. You had both lost so much already.

No, not just so much, but everything. You had both fucking lost everything.

There were no promises you could make, no vows that would erase the ever-haunting possibility that somebody might not come home at the end of the day.

In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but marvel at what a pair you were.

Here you were, afraid of losing a peace that could never really be yours to lose in the first place.

And Joel, afraid that he wasn’t enough to…

To what, exactly?

Not enough to protect those he vowed to himself to keep alive?

Not enough to make those he cared about happy?

Not enough for you to give up on the false hope of ever finding peace?

“Is it enough?” the three words falling from Joel’s lips made your eyes reopen, gazing down at the tired lines of his face, pinched in a way that told you he was holding back a wave of emotions, your throat choking up at the sight of your strong, steadfast love so shattered by his own grief. “If…”

You exhaled heavily, nodding before you could even find the words.

Because despite the fears that held you captive awake or asleep, you knew Joel. You knew your love for him, his love for you, and even if there was a day to come where one of you would be left without it…

“It’s enough,” you whispered, tears falling down your face to mix with his as you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, one that assured him of what you both needed to know. For however long you had him, however long you could love him…

It was enough.

taglist: @darkroastjoel @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cupofjoel @cavillscurls @tightjeansjavi @cynibuns

[metalichotchoco]

In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy

[alessiathepirate]

Resident Evil 2 - Resident Evil 4

SHARED WOUNDS HEAL TOGETHER THE BEST: Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Relationship development through nightmares and shared trauma.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: swearing, referenced PTSD, trauma, mentioned death, described violence, hurt/comfort

•••

Half a night full of nightmares

Escaping the unsurvivable doesn't come with good feelings at all.

It didn't fill her heart with pride or joy after she survived all those monsters in Raccoon City, even though she almost laughed from relief when she found herself far away from that God forsaken place with Leon, Claire and Sherry on her side.

No. The aftermath wasn't happy and it definitely wasn't fun. It was sad, insufferable and painful.

The mornings were alright - she didn't have any problems with those, especially when she could talk to either Leon or Claire, or take care of Sherry. But the nights - the nights were horrible and the first few after the incident were the worst.

She saw hoards of the undead in her dreams, attacking her or killing the people she cared about. She heard the noises of the lickers and the turned dogs, but the worst were the loud steps, making the walls and the ground she was standing on shake.

On the first night she relived the journalist's death so vividly, she didn't know where she was when she woke up. She saw him backing away and then the strong arm of the tyrant pushed through the concrete wall, it grabbed his head and crushed it like it was nothing. She remembered how the blood dripped down to the floor, how his eyes popped out of their places and how they were hanging out of his eye sockets, only a few weak muscles keeping them attached to his body.

When she woke up she couldn't breath, her chest was heavy, her throat felt both tight and dry and she was crying, the tears quickly running down her cheeks. She didn't know where she was or who she was, her mind was too far gone, still living in the world of the nightmare, not finding the way back to reality.

Two sudden hands on her shoulders pushed her back to the present, to the dirty motel room with the lights on, but with the curtains closed.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, it was just a nightmare! You're safe, I'm here. Do you hear me?" Leon's voice was full of fear, but he did his best not to panic as he tried to calm her down. His words made her breathing slow down and she felt like she can get some fresh air in her lungs again. "You have to take a big breath with me, okay? In and out." She followed his instructions as he brushed a few locks of hair out of her face, which got stuck to her forehead from the sweat. "Again- breath in... and out." He made eye contact with her, making sure she's feeling better. "You can calm down, it was just a bad dream."

She nodded, now understanding the situation she found herself in.

"Thank you." her mouth felt dry as she said those two words out loud.

"You have nothing to say thank you for." Leon smiled at her reassuringly. "Do you feel better now?"

She just nodded again, not trusting her voice this time. Leon backed away and sat down next to her on the bed.

She felt awkward as she sat up, leaning against the bedframe as she pulled the duvets to the side, because she felt like she was burning alive under them. She hugged her knees to her chest as she looked at Leon again.

"You can talk about it if you want to. I had one too, you know... a nightmare."

She stayed quiet as she thought about what to do, but then her strength to keep all the fear in herself broke.

"I had a dream about the journalist's- about Ben's death... It was like I- relived that moment, you know. When the tyrant killed him." she explained as a shiver run through her spine at the memories. "What was yours about?"

"That we never made it out alive." he started. "That every one of you died right before the finish line and when I tried to get back to you I got attacked as well."

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"I don't know." she answered after she realized how stupid it would be to apologize for the whole Raccoon City incident, when it wasn't her fault - nor their fault at all. "For scaring you because of some shitty dream I had... For what happened or- I don't know."

"It's not your fault. You can't do anything against the dreams you have and I'm sure you did your absolute best in Raccoon City. We all did."

They smiled at each other, but it was a very broken, pitiful smile.

"I'll always be here if you want to talk about, you know- what happened."

"The same goes for you." she said. "Where are the others? Claire and Sherry?"

"Claire wanted to get something to eat and Sherry wanted to go with her. You fell asleep so I didn't want to leave you alone." Leon explained and then added jokingly: "And then I fell asleep as well so I guess we were both too tired to care about food. They should be back in a few minutes."

"Thanks for staying with me."

Leon just smiled and then stood up, walking towards the only table the cheap motel room had.

"Claire was able to get some tea from that nice lady at reception. Do you want some? I mean, it's already cold, but-"

"It's perfect. Thank you."

A few moments later they were both sitting on her bed, drinking that ice cold tea as they made sure the other was feeling better after half a night full of nightmares. Neither of them knew how important that little gesture will be in their shared future.

•••

The already full jar of trauma

The moment she heard Leon's voice from his bedroom, she was up, her bare feet were on the cold floor, not caring about what she had on or how low the temperature in their apartment was. Her reflexes, which became quite sharp after that horrible night, acted on their own accord, and the next thing she knew she was running to her flatmate's bedroom, not bothering to knock.

Just like she thought - Leon's body was sweaty and he was tossing and turning in his bed with an uncomfortable look on his face. All the tiredness was gone from her eyes as she sat down next to him on his bed and put one of her hands on his chest while the other was gently caressing his face.

"Leon?" she spoke up kindly, her voice rough from sleeping beforehand. "Leon, please wake up! It's just a dream. Leon?"

He suddenly opened his eyes as he sat up so quickly she had to lean back so he won't bump into her.

"It's okay!" she tried to reassure him as she touched his arm. "It was just a bad dream."

He looked at her, his eyes teary from both dream and sleep and the next thing she knew, he hugged her, his arms keeping her in place tightly, afraid to let go.

She was shocked at first, that moment being the first time ever he hugged her or was that close to her, but she didn't complain. She knew how bad a nightmare can be, how bad of a reaction it can get out of someone. So she hugged him back and stroked his arm as his breathing became more even.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she said, her face still pressed against his shoulder.

She felt him swallow.

"Do you remember Marvin?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

Marvin was still a fresh wound and a painful topic - especially the way he died and the why he died. The man was a hero; he saved them from getting eaten and he gave them the right weapons and best gear they could ever find.

She nodded, but the memories still hurt.

"I had a dream about him."

"I'm sorry. You had to shoot him because of me."

It was true and she'll probably always feel guilty because of it. It was her fault - her fault that Leon had to shoot him dead and with that add to the already full jar of trauma.

She wasn't careful and let the turned Marvin attack her. His hands were already on her and if Leon doesn't react quickly, he would've bit her right in the neck.

"It wasn't your fault." Leon said and after taking a long breath he continued: "He was already gone. It was between you and him, and he was already gone."

Even if it was a painful topic, she knew she can be thankful that Leon was there and acted quickly.

"Thank you for being there that day." she said after she pushed Leon back so she can look him in the eye. "But you can't blame yourself either. I hope you know that."

He nodded, silently saying that he does.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"Not anymore, no."

"We can watch something if you want to."

"Yeah." she answered, knowing none of them would be able to fall sleep again. "That would be great. A shitty comedy would be great."

•••

Keep on talking

She was so tired she felt like she could cry at any little thing - yet sleep stayed far away from her. It didn't want to come, it didn't want to give her what she needs and covets.

Her whole body hurt from that morning's obstacle training and hand-to-hand combat - both lessons left cuts and purple, blue or even yellow bruises on her arms, legs and stomach. Her muscles were aching, screaming for even a few hours of sleep, but both the sleep and dreams stayed away.

"Are you still up?"

Leon's question was so sudden in the darkness that it gave her heart an ache from fear, her heartbeat becoming faster.

They shared a bunk bed together. Leon chose the lower part so she owned the upper one - but deep down she knew Leon made that decision so he can look out for her and be her guard dog until the end of the damn training.

"Yeah." she whispered back, not wanted to wake up the others.

"You can't sleep?"

"Exactly, but I want to." her voice became high pitched, so she had to swallow to keep the tears back. "God, I really want to."

Leon whispered her name, his voice was full of worry and that was what broke the dam. The tears started to fall from both mental and physical pain, tiredness.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't without waking the others up, knowing her voice would be rough and high pitched.

She heard him pull the duvet to the side, she was sure he sat up on his bed. Then his bare feet made contact with the floor and in the next moment she could see Leon's face as he grabbed the side of her bed. His expression was full of sadness.

"Do you want to sleep next to me tonight?" he asked quietly, gently touching her hand.

She nodded.

"Come here..."

She did her best to stay silent as she wiped away her tears and then climbed down, her arms shaking as she did so. Leon was there to help her, holding her, keeping his hand on her back as support.

When she was down he turned her towards himself, wiped the remaining tears away and gently stroked a bruise on her collarbone. She only then noticed that he had a few bruises himself as well, a purple one hiding right under his jaw, but she could still see it in the moonlight.

"Who did you fight with?"

"Why, you want to beat him up?" he asked teasingly, trying to crack a joke.

She didn't giggle, caring about his health and well being too much to take it as a joke.

"Of course I want to."

"You can have one guess." he sighed.

"Krauser?"

"Who else?"

"What an asshole." she whispered.

"What about you? Who do I have to beat up?"

"You can have one guess." she quoted him. "I had hand-to-hand combat right after you."

Leon didn't say anything to that, he only stroked her cheek reassuringly and then gestured towards his bed. She lay down on his bed and tried to find a position where she leaves place for Leon as well. He joined her moments later and pulled the duvet over the two of them.

"Try to rest, okay? You need it." he whispered.

"I know." she started. "I just got to a point where I'm too tired to fall asleep."

"Do you want me to keep on talking?"

"If you want to."

One of his hands found her waist and pulled her shirt down to cover her skin, and then through the material he started to draw different shapes into her. First a square, then a circle, a triangle, a star and then a smiley face.

"Did I tell you that Claire called right before we had to come here?" he asked.

"No."

"Well she did. She told me all about what she wants to do" she closed her eyes as he started to talk. "and about who she met. She asked about us. She was surprised that we became flatmates, joking that that's how dumb romance books start..."

She fell asleep right after that, her mind finally finding peace at his words. What she didn't realize was how she was admired while she was sleeping and how well Leon slept next to her that night.

That was the first time they asked themselves if they are really just friends or something more.

•••

You'll always have Prince Charming, cariño

Their first night together as a couple shouldn't go like this - with this heavy, burning feeling inside their chests.

The well known feeling of guilt made that night harder than ever. It's been a while since they were this afraid of falling asleep and it wasn't easy to get used to again, even if they both got a routine for those nights.

Taking a shower, getting dressed for bed, cooking dinner and then watching something on the TV - trying to do everything slowly to avoid going to sleep, trying to keep their eyes open so they can concentrate on the crappy movie, trying to not think about who they lost.

"We should go to bed or you'll fall asleep on the couch." Leon was the first to break the silence and the tension in the air.

They were both watching some stupid comedy on the TV, but while Leon was sitting with tired eyes, she was resting her head on his thigh. Her eyes closed a few minutes ago and she almost fell asleep when he spoke up.

"I don't want to." she started. "I'll have nightmares and I really can't deal with them tonight."

Leon's hand started to stroke her back and she sighed - being there with him gave her a peace of mind, but it also made her really sleepy.

"I know what you mean - but we have to give it a try. We've been a through a lot and we need to rest."

"I know. I just-" she sat up so she can look at him. "I just don't want to relive Luis' death... I just can't."

Leon looked at her like she said the exact thing he had been feeling and thinking about. He gave her a sad smile and took her hand in his, drawing the usual shapes into her skin with his thumb.

"Luis didn't deserve to die." she continued, trying to get everything what hurts off of her chest. "Even if he was always flirting or being annoying; he was nice. And he was really trying to do the right thing."

"And he was your biggest supporter." Leon added with a small, honest smile.

"No, he was our biggest supporter." she corrected him, letting out a giggle as she remembered all the things he said to her. "He was trying to make me see what our relationship truly is- that what you and I have is more than friendship."

"He was right, wasn't he?"

She nodded and the smile she had disappeared as she got back to reality. To the reality where Luis Serra is dead no matter how hard she tried to save his life.

She thought about the memories she shares with Leon and realized that no matter what they do or where they go, they always meet with tragedy and death. Those things overshadow their relationship and its development, not letting them fully enjoy what they have.

Luis would've loved to see their confession. He would've loved to see their faces when they realize they both feel the same way about the other. He would've wanted them to be happy.

Even if it's hard to be happy and smile.

What would he say? Something cheesy and romantic. Something like: You'll always have Prince Charming to make you smile even on hard days, cariño.

And he'd be right. She'll always smile when she sees Leon. She'll always laugh at his jokes. She'll get through everything if he's by her side.

"All right." she spoke up suddenly, making Leon stop his movements. "We can try and get some sleep- together."

"Together." he agreed and then leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

God, Luis would be smirking with that proud, annoying smirk of his.

A few moments later they were cuddling under the duvets in Leon's room; her head was on his chest as he was stroking her back. She didn't dare to close her eyes yet, but she enjoyed the closeness with her lover.

Lover, she thought. It's good they had Luis to make them see they are better lovers than friends.

That's how she should remember him. Luis Serra, the best wingman the world has ever known. The bravest, kindest wingman the world has ever known.

"Leon?" she spoke up in the darkness as she closed her eyes.

"Yes? Is something wrong?"

"No. There's nothing wrong. Everything is fine when I'm with you." she explained when she heard the fear in his voice. "I just wanted to say I love you."

For a moment Leon's heartbeat and breathing changed, and his hand stopped.

"I love you too, darling. Now try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Promise me you'll wake me up if you have a nightmare..."

"I promise, but the same goes for you."

Leon pressed one last kiss to the back of her hand and then they both closed their eyes, trying to enjoy the other's presence, knowing they don't have to be afraid of nightmares. Not when they have the other.

•••

[depalmasux]

in a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy

[dykehayleywilliams]

something about h performing bne songs in the IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY... a period marked by conflict and strife and pain and confusion but. in a dream. she saw a way to survive. and look now.