Your name

My dearest Penguin

He could still picture that night as clear as day. The aching in his ribs and limbs from the attack earlier on in the day, the metallic taste of blood ocassionally resurfacing. His mother couldn't afford the trip to the doctors, so she could only give him some pain killers to dull the pain. She let him sleep in bed with her that night, cuddled up close bundled under thick sheets as she held him close.

"I love you so much. You are a brave boy, a handsome young man. Like your father was" Her soft smile seemed to glow through the darkness, lighting up the room around her like it always did. That cheeky, yet loving smile made his heart squeeze. He would give anything to see it again. Oswald sniffed and cuddled closer. Her perfume filled his nose, the familiar scent comforting and warming. "They may not see it yet, but you are like swan. Graceful, beautiful. A pretty bird"

He used to hate being compared to birds, but when she called him one it felt good. It reminded him of the crows in the park, the robins hopping through the snow, the starlings on his windowsill. They were beautiful. And soon became his favourite type of animal.

"My Kicsikèm" She mumbled gently as her soft hand traced his cheek, wiping away the tears rolling down his face. Suddenly, the room began to grow colder and colder as her smile faded into shocked confusion, "O-Oswald?"

"Mother?"

A figure slowly rose up behind her, and Oswald's heart stopped. Tabitha. No. Nonono.

"Anyu, ne hagyj el engem" He cried as a distance grew between them, Oswald throwing his hand out to catch her's but she was so still, so far. Lighting lit up the entire room, and Oswald let out a choked scream as he saw himself stood over his mother with an insane grin, blood staining his pale face. A cold, maniacal laugh echoed through the room as he raised the bloody knife over her motionless body, ready to strike again.

"Sajnálom!" Oswald screamed as he watched himself go to stab her.

Oswald woke with a horrified scream as he shot up in bed, hands balled up in the covers as his eyes stung with tears. He breathed hard in horror and panic as he looked around trying to recognise his surroundings, but the familiar setting of Ed's apartment settled his nerves. His heart beat loudly in his ears as he sighed in relief. It was just a dream.

His soulmate immediately began fussing over him, "Oswald, are you okay? You were yelling in your sleep and I couldn't wake you"

"I'm fine...I'm alright" He replied dishonest. He was not alright, far from it. His own brain had twisted yet another fond memory of his mother. It wasn't anything new; ever since she died he'd been having similar dreams. All being a memory of her, and all ending with him killing her. There's probably some weird psychology to do with it that Oswald had no interest in learning.

"Ok...it's just..." Ed started but cut himself off with a frown, as he shifted closer and rubbed Oswald's arm awkwardly in an attempt to comfort him. They sat in silence for a minute before he spoke, "You're aware that you talk in your sleep, but are you aware that you sometimes slip into your mother tongue too?"

"I do?" Oswald blinked confused. He knew he sometimes had dreams that were in Hungarian or dreams that had a few Hungarian phrases, but he wasn't as aware that he sleep talked in the language too. Then again, it shouldn't come as surprise. Sleep talking is sleep talking.