Nightmare Nightmare Nightmare
Draco was running, tripping, falling. He couldn’t catch his breath. His breathing was exasperated and shaky, his heart beating far faster than his lungs could bare to keep up with, it was racing; pounding, but he couldn’t hear a thing.
He was screaming, choking on his words. But no sound came out. He was bleeding, his knees and hand scraped from the sliding fall onto the rocky, gravely, uneven terrain. But he couldn’t feel the pain; couldn’t feel the sting of his open, dirt filled wounds; couldn’t feel the stabbing ache in his heart for his friend, his partner, his everything laying on the cold ground inches from his knees. He couldn’t quite feel the tears – or was it blood? – Streaming down his face.
His vision was blurred, obscured, and fuzzy. He couldn’t see a thing, but he could see Harry. He could see harry clear as the night sky, the life draining from him faster than his heart could beat.
Harry was there, paralyzed on the floor, his pale body surrounded by pools of blood quickly morphing into one large puddle. Puncture wounds, debris, and lacerations covered his body. The struggle in his breaths was clear; they were faint and shallow.
“Draco,” Harry’s voice was raspy and dry. He coughed, and only more blood spilled out. “I-”
His body stilled.
Silence.
Draco awoke with a screaming jolt. His face was flooded with tears and sweat. He grasped the mattress sheets with a shaking fist. He was in his room, in his bed, but still, he is mind raced, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He couldn’t stop it..
A guiding hand urged him into a tight embrace. Harry’s hand, Harry’s chest, Harry’s beating, alive heart. Draco’s breathing shook, and the lump in his throat restricted him from talking. He just let it happen; he heard Harry’s comforting words,
“Everything’s going to be okay.” “I’m right here.”
He heard it all. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to be strong enough to convince himself that it was all a dream, a nightmare. He wanted to know that he was here; that this was real; that Harry was alive, and that it’s always been that way.
Harry followed Draco’s movements as the two of them settled back into the sheets. He wanted to believe that he was fne. He moved his hands to Harry’s face, resting his forehead against Harry’s as the tears began to subside.
This was real. Harry was okay. Everything was okay. Harry kept his hold on Draco, focussing on the movement in his chest, listening to his heartbeat calm. Draco smiled.
And yet, the pit in his stomach still lingered.