The Horror and the Wild

XXI. The Hardest of Hearts (NSFW)

February 01, Monday

Cillian was screaming again. Having learnt his lesson from the previous night, Owen quickly skittered out of the bed he'd carried Cillian up to only a few hours prior.

The druid woke up on his own, but he didn't move— save for opening his eyes. After a moment, Owen realised he couldn't move. He'd heard of sleep paralysis before, but he'd never seen it in action. Hesitantly, he moved over to Cillian and started running his fingers through the man's ink black curls. It was a slow process, but together they managed to unlock Cillian's body one muscle at a time. Cillian sat upright, leaning against Owen before burying his face in his hands and starting to cry. Owen wrapped him in a hug and he clung to Owen like a boa constrictor until his grandparents entered the room. The three of them held Cillian tight until he finally stopped shaking. 

Cillian was spirited off downstairs by Niamh and Owen was left with his grandfather, trying to figure out what had happened.

"I've seen him have nightmares before," Owen said. "But nothing like this."

Darragh patted his shoulder. "You'll get used tae it. Ireland ain't exactly the best place for him, anymore. As happy as I am tae see him, I wish he'd stayed over in America."

"Why?" Owen asked.

"He's told us a lot about you, lad. Surely you'd not be havin' the best of times if you went back to yer old home. Cil's much the same way. Too much trauma for him, here."

Owen frowned. "What happened?"

"His family's home was bombed out while he was away tae perform for a concert. It was a shock for everyone, because that sort of thing rarely happens anymore, now that The Troubles are over. Tae hear him tell it, they'd all had a row right before he left an' Cil never got the chance tae apologise."

"That's..." Owen found he didn't have the words to react. "That's terrible."

Darragh nodded. "We lost our daughter and granddaughter that day, as well as our son-in-law. I'm just grateful Cillian is still with us. He's so much like his mother."

Owen looked at the older man curiously. "What was she like?"

Darragh smiled sadly. "Beautiful as the sun. Gentle as spring. Well. She was like yer man downstairs, just a lass instead."

Owen nodded a bit. "What happened after they died?"

Darragh sighed heavily. "His fiancé was killed not long later. After that, he used some of his money to buy us a new house— this one, actually— well outside the city. Then he moved off tae America with little more than the clothes on his back. Started over."

"How long ago was that?"

"He was just getting settled in Boston around the end of summer about three years ago."