Nightmares | Self Para
It had been a long time since the last time Bastian had had a nightmare. He only had nightmares, as strange as it was, when he was happy, as though to remind him he wasn’t allowed. . When he was stressed, he never managed to sleep long enough or deep enough for nightmares. When he did sleep a long time, he slept until he had the nightmares
That night, the nightmare was different. The sort of preposterous nightmare that made your waking self almost laugh, the sort you didn’t confess to having.
It made a bit of sense, really. It was the first night with his wand again, the first night he was feeling safe again, wand in hand, able to put the charms up to grab a few hours of unconsciousness. He’d gotten used to the feel of being beside Scorpius though. He’d never admit to going to lay with him at night, and he was fairly sure that the boy didn’t know. His sleeping form didn’t seem to mind though. The first night, he had only moved a bit away and Bastian had lay on his side, taking up as little space as he could and taking comfort in simply laying a hand on the man he could call his boyfriend. He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t, not without the charms and not with all these people in the room.
The second night, when he took the same position, careful not to make too much disturbance or wake Scorpius, an arm wrapped around him and pulled him in a bit to hold him. It wasn’t quite cuddling, just laying a bit closer and the touch being returned. Bastian didn’t push closer, simply lay there and thought. It was harder that time to get up and shower, because he didn’t want to wake him. He managed though.
The third night, Scorpius rolled when he lay in the bed and wrapped both arms around him like he was keeping him in a protective cage and it was almost as good as spells. He had nearly dozed for a few moments then, face buried in Scorpius’s shoulder. That was the night he cried silently, mourning the loss of the most precious object he owned, feeling like a part of his life had been cut away. What sort of wandmaker lost a wand?
This night, he cast the spells and laid in his bed staring at the curtains drawn and spelled closed, alone and it felt awful. So he had taken down the charms and he had gone to Scorpius’s bed again, curled up beside him , and cast the charms around them both. Scorpius would be able to get out, but no one could get in. As soon as the spells were cast, his head hit his boyfriend’s pillow and he was asleep.
Then the nightmare, the destructive, painful nightmare, struck.
There was nothing wrong with the way it started, just a dull sort of pain, like being stabbed with something sharp that was slowly moving forward. He was talking to the painting again that had told him of Scorpius’s drunken mistake. This time though, he said something different.
Bastian ran from the room and all the way to his own room, this room, the one he shared with Scorpius, the words ringing in his ears. With that blonde girl.
Zooey. They were betraying Lorcan and him again, but this time sober. This time they knew what they were doing, knew what was happening, they-
His breath stuck in his throat when he threw the door open because what he found was not Scorpius and in the midst of receiving head from his mate’s girlfriend, but Scorpius in the act, the girl pressed to the wall like Scorpius had pressed him to the wall, kissing her like he had kissed Bastian.
The blonde hair was long, tipped with pink, pale skin, thin, thinner than beautiful Zooey, face more pointed, screaming moans a bit higher pitched and raspy. Fiona.
The world tilted and shifted under Bastian’s feet and he looked down to see himself in the Astronomy Tower again, on the ledge again, looking down for James Potter and seeing nothing, knowing he was wrong, then realizing he was in danger. He looked back up to find that the scene still played, his boyfriend having sex with the girl he might have loved before, the girl he had cared most for out of any other than Esme, while he was now standing on a ledge, so near to falling, and a long gap between them. He searched his pockets, but he was wearing the pants again transfigured from Scorpius’s sheet and it was gone.
He called out to them, praying Scorpius would turn and choose to help him again, step back from her and come back to him, but the volume and pace only increased, Fiona calling out torturous words in a pleasured voice that was worse than one filled with venom. He clutched at the wall and tried to edge back, but the door was gone and he was trapped.
Scorpius turned and looked at him. A hysterical laugh broke free as he pulled away and moved toward the edge of the room. Then Fiona spoke, “Leave him there, Scorpius. He’s nothing.”
Scorpius cast her a glare and then moved forward, reaching a hand out to Bastian. As he reached to take it, Bastian caught sight of his sister behind him and she gave him a shove as Bastian screamed a warning.
The hand broke away, fingertips brushing as the Slytherin tumbled down to the ground, Bastian sliding down the wall, screaming in agony as Lillian let out that cruel laugh and Maricia followed a second too late. Fiona gave him one look, then turned and walked away.
Screwing up courage and forcing himself forward, Bastian jumped, trying to catch the floor of the room that was just out of reach. So close and slipping right through his fingers. Through the laughter, as Fiona left, Bastian heard Fiona’s last words and they slashed through him, slicing him to ribbons.
As his sister’s laugh filled his ears, another sound jolted him, a familiar one. Scorpius let out a snore another in his ear and he awoke with a start. His face was wet, Scorpius’s pillow and shoulder both matching. There was a sleepy mumble from his blonde boyfriend and he drew him closer.
Fiona was gone. Lillian and Maricia weren’t there. Scorpius was here, Scorpius was safe, and Scorpius was his. Still, the last words filled his head as he tried to go back to sleep.
You can’t keep anything, Bastian. You couldn’t keep me, you couldn’t keep Tate, you couldn’t even keep your wand. What makes you think you can keep him? It’s a matter of time. Just a matter of time.