#Nightie: calls out BS / Sammy: Nightie pls

[thesundowncrew]

“What was your plan A? Why would you take your barrier down if you weren’t leaving?”

Before Samhain could say anything, Nightshade answered with a disdained scoff. "Obviously cus he thought he could take on the big baddie all by himself!" The words, true as they were, still felt like a slap on the face. Even as Samhain stood up from the bed and stretched his limbs, he couldn't look Nightshade in the eyes when she was mad at him like that.

“You must’ve known what would happen… didn’t you?”

"Ah... admit ah overestimated my abilities to take control o'me own unconscious," Samhain confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as if it were stiff from a few hours of sleeping the wrong way. It wasn't. "Ah've done it only a few times before an' ah thought it wouldn't hurt to test out some limits.." Whether it was the creature's limits of controlling the dreaming or his own ability of taking it, or both, Samhain didn't elaborate.

He held the dream draught in his hand for a bit before stuffing it into his pocket. "It won't happen again," he said, resolutely.

"But o'course ah knew what would happen if I failed, which is why I left a emergency line directly to Nightshade in case anythin' happened," he defended once again only to be shot down immediately by his aforementioned Plan B. "Uh-HUH, yeah, leave the supernatural hotline to the kid, of course! Smart idea! Probably cus if you told anyone else your hare-brained scheme, no-one would've let you!"

"Nightie, please."

"You're lucky she called at all! And right after, too!" Suddenly Nightshade let out a little gasp, remembering sweet little Nettie was expecting her today, "Oh no! I better get going!" It was raining so everyone must've come inside by now and her absence would be noticed, no doubt.

Samhain nodded. "Before ye go, Nightie, could you take these with you?" he asked, handing over his belongings as well as the items on left on the drawer, save for the music box. "Mr. Arthur made this for you," he took her hand and placed the cat carving in her palm; green, beady eyes looking up at her in matching glee.

"(GASP) Is that lil' ol' me???" she squealed until she remembered she was still mad at the ghoul, clearing her throat and looking away. "I mean (cough) It's cute, I guess. Don't think you'll get off that easy."

"Yer welcome," Samhain chuckled. Now that he knew all his items were in Nightshade's safekeeping, he turned to Bran. "Maybe you should stay with Nightie an' keep Nettie company. As for me," the ghoul said with a smirk, green eyes looking up as if he could see all the way through to the attic above them. "Ah think it's time ah have a little chat with Feldmire~"

Bran watched them banter with each other, wide-eyed, struggling to follow along. Samhain’s answer to his questions only bewildered the boy more. He understood Nightshade’s frustration, but he still winced in sympathy when she tugged Samhain’s ear and pulled at his cheeks. That looked painful.

Dream draughts… Nightshade had made dream draughts. Bran’s gaze flickered to the little pouch on the bed. Was that her creation? From the few details he gathered from her flood of scolding, it sounded like it offered protection in a dream. How much had these two figured out about Feld’s methods?

Samhain addressed him at last. An apology. Bran shook his head, fumbling for words. Their argument had given his heart some time to slow its pace, so his pulse no longer thundered in his ears, but the sense of disorientation lingered. This had never happened before. A guest had never rejected the dream and broken free from Feld’s trap. What happened now?

“If— if Nightshade was your plan B,” Bran began, regaining his voice at last, “what was your plan A? Why would you take your barrier down if you weren’t leaving?” His tone held more confusion than any sort of anger — along with a hint of hurt, a sense that he’d been deceived in some way. A chill passed through him, like the chill that had overcome him last night when he’d discussed the contract with Samhain. A certainty that this would have consequences.

This time, though, the chill seemed to emanate from somewhere above them. The attic. Maybe a window was open up there, letting the rain blow inside. Dread spiked through Bran at the alternative. Surely Feld had realized Samhain was awake by now…

A rabbit-like instinct to run suddenly tugged at him. Bran wrapped his arms around himself and inhaled shakily. “I’m sorry, I just— I don’t understand. You must’ve known what would happen… didn’t you?”