Once Again

Chapter Seven - Yours Truly

Picture: Child of the Stars by KarmaMoonshadow

The chapter name is not meant how it's usually used, by the way. It's more of a dark thing.

Yours Truly

Braken suddenly bolted upright with a terrified scream, wide awake in a second. He quickly curled up, his legs crossed tightly, and hid his face in his arms, trying to calm his frantic breathing and racing heartbeat. It was just a dream, he told himself. Just a dream. He wanted to cry, and when he realized no one was around to hear him, he let it out, sobbing softly into his hoodie sleeves. He hadn't let himself cry in a long time.

After a moment, he pulled himself together and started to relax again. He laid back down, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Her; the triumph gleaming in Her eyes, the bloody knife in Her pale hand, Her leg wrapped around his waist. He tried to force the thoughts away, wishing for the power to manipulate them, just like he could with the others, but they just wouldn't leave. He began to feel imaginary hands on his face, his chest, his thighs, his waist, Her icy lips on his neck and his stomach, and the white hot knife digging into his back. He started to moan and cry softly, so he forced himself to sit up and open his eyes. Realizing he wasn't going sleep again, he stood up and wandered out of the solitary confinement he called his "personal space" to get some fresh air.

He had had frequent dreams like this before, of course, but very few had been that real, that graphic and vivid. They'd become slightly milder over the past year, though still terrifying and sleep depriving, and he'd had them less frequently than he'd had in the beginning, though usually he had them three or four times a week. Usually, since the year prior, he'd been able to fall asleep again if he woke up. These past four nights, he hadn't even been able to close his eyes. Something was wrong.

Braken paced the camp, thinking hard and trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg. It still bothered him that nobody had told him where his limp came from, but he had bigger things to worry about. Only one other person was out, but she quickly avoided him when he came closer. He ignored that, too.

He had a sick feeling in his chest, not guilt or humiliation, the feelings that usually came after those dreams, but the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It had something to do with the Haven, he was sure. He'd had a dream that told the future - twice. Once when he saw three unfamiliar people holding him up, carrying him away, and that had been when he was rescued. The second was when he predicted the Alphas' attack, a couple months ago. He knew that this night's dream hadn't been the future, as it had already happened, but he felt like it was trying to tell him something. 

He thought hard, but his ideas and thoughts jumbled in his head like birds frantically taking to the sky. He couldn't pin one down long enough to make sense of it. Haven. Torture. It had been four days. Puppet and Echo were supposed to come back the next morning. Supposed to. 

Braken suddenly knew what his dream had been about.

He ran, limping, to Rogue's sleeping space and tapped on the metal rod. "Rogue?" he called softly.

A groan came from behind the blanket door. "Go away, Braken."

"I had a dream."

"So?"

"It's really important."

"Unless it's turning you into a psycho, it's not that important. It can wait until morning."

"Rogue, you have to listen to me. Please, it's really important. It's about the Haven." The scar on his face prickled, almost like a warning.

"It's just your memories. You'll be fine in the morning."