Keeper Of The Lost Cities One Shots

Nightmares

           Nightmares were calling Sophie, calling her to their realm of darkness so they could drag her down to a point of no return. Sophie had often fought them away, only to be beaten from behind by an invisible force and lulled to a submissive state. The nightmares wracked her body, her frail and trembling form being shaken to bits—but she was always unable to wake up.
           Every morning, Sandor would reach out and startle Sophie into consciousness, causing her to shoot up and bed. The sheets and blankets were wrinkled and strewn across the floor, her hair a ratted mess, and the darkness settled in underneath her partially opened eyes.
            Despite living in the same mansion as Keefe, he never seemed to be in the same room as Sophie, let alone sleep with her. Their schedules were conflicting and their love was dwindling, and Sophie's recurring nightmares did nothing to help the tension. She knew she had to open up and share the truth before they were beyond repair, and telling Keefe would reassure him of their trust (not in a cognate way). Sophie's past certainly played a role in her current actions, but nothing justified hiding from her husband, not even nightmares.
           Sophie stumbled out of bed full exhaustion, and practically fell down the stairs until she was in the kitchen devouring some sort of yellow sludge. She choked it down, not bothering with the taste, and was almost to the vortinator before Keefe grabbed her arm.
          "So we are surprised and tired this morning, huh Foster?" Keefe chuckled as he continued gripping her forearm. He surveyed her face, eyes wandering over every worry line and bags before saying, "What's wrong?"
           Sophie was startled to say the least. This was their first conversation in weeks. Sophie shrugged and closed her eyes for a second longer before wriggling out of Keefe's grip, backing slowly up the stairs. "Nothing. It's...nothing." Sophie whispered.
          Keefe's eyes flashed with anger and then confusion and then determination, "You can't keep doing this, Sophie. We agreed on no more secrets." His words came out forcefully and sent Sophie back a step to escape a lecture, but her heel hit the back of the stairs and she fell to her butt. Hard. But when she fell, her head hit the step above and Keefe heard a crack.
            "Ow." Sophie mumbled, feeling more nauseous and tired than before. She still had her clumsiness, and Keefe was struggling to hold in a laugh until he realized there was blood rushing from the back of her head pooling on the wooden stairs. That would leave a stain. "Keefe, I think I'm gonna take a nap, okay? I'm not going to meeting right now," Sophie slurred, her eyes drooping.
             "Foster? Hey, love, keep your eyes open," he peeled open her fallen eyelids, "I'm gonna hail Fitz and he'll fix you right up. Stay awake, Foster. It's not nap time, okay?" He looked at Sophie as if waiting for her to nod, but her eyes were glazed over.
           Keefe frantically reached for his imparter to hail Fitz, the now physician and her former cognate, notifying him that he was needed at Bralenwing (where Sophie and Keefe lived). He turned his attention back to Sophie before lifting her and carrying her to the massive couch, laying down a towel to prevent any stains.
           Fitz arrived soon, rushing in through the stained glass door with a moonlark on it, and set his bag next to Sophie on the couch. "What happened?"
           "She was going upstairs backwards after I told her that we had agreed not to keep secrets, but she tripped and fell and hit her head and butt pretty hard." Keefe was running his hands through his tousled hair, and it was soon shooting up and spikes.
          "No, I mean, why does it look like she had a fight with her pillow?"  Fitz asked, already forming the idea that she had nightmares.
           "Hasn't she always looked like that?" Keefe wondered aloud, questioning what Fitz meant and not seeing what the doctor saw. Keefe did notice, however, that her nails had punctured the skin of her palm and that her lips were peeling and chapped from being bitten and picked at, but he skipped over the fact of the purple bruises under her eyes.
          "No." Fitz said bluntly before reaching for his spectacles and a candle, flipping down multiple lenses, "Ouch. She hit her head pretty hard." Nah dur, Fitzster. I told you that already, Keefe thought. "Let's get a poultice on that," Fitz said before turning Sophie's head to the side and probing the tender skin before finding the center of the wound. He smeared the goop on the blood matted area of her scalp and then focused his attention to her rear end.
          "Watch those wandering eyes, buddy." Keefe said half joking and half serious. Keefe's protectiveness was not something to be messed with.
           Fitz turned Sophie over onto her stomach and used his hands to feel around her butt bone, and then told Keefe it was fractured. Fitz poured a half dozen elixirs down Sophie's throat before turning to Keefe and asking if there was anything else. Before Keefe could answer, Fitz asked if Sophie was getting any sleep. Her cells had been sluggish and lacked the normal "Sophie energy."
          "I don't think she has gotten much, but we don't sleep together...and I haven't been paying enough attention to her, I guess." Keefe admitted quietly, collapsing next to Sophie in a heap, holding back tears from the neglect that was radiating off of Sophie.
          "Have the nightmares come back?" Fitz asked, genuinely concerned for his once cognate. He knew she struggled with those, but he didn't know if Sophie had opened up yet.
         "The WHAT?" Keefe almost yelled, "so that's what she's been keeping from me," Keefe muttered as realization dawned on him, "The freaking nightmares. How did I not realize; I mean she doesn't want to sleep with me and she practically avoids me and Mr. Bodyguard dude doesn't tell me anything other than that it is strictly confidential." Keefe's outburst was unprecedented, and Fitz new it was his time to leave.
          "I'll come back to check on her tomorrow, okay man? Let me know if anything... else...happens."
          Keefe turned to Sophie and picked her up to cradle her. She was whimpering quietly,
         "No...no...what did I do? What are you doing! STOP! Please Stop!"
          Sophie was woken by Keefe, who wrapped his arms around her tighter than ever before, rocking her back and forth and telling her that he was sorry over and over again. 
          "Keefe? What happened? Where am I? Why are you in my ro..." Sophie froze when she realized she wasn't in her room and it wasn't nighttime. Keefe looked at her, still angry she didn't tell the truth but his look was filled with regret at not paying enough attention to his wife. "I'm sorry Keefe. You weren't supposed to find out about the you-know-whats. I could handle them."
          Keefe shook his head, "How long, Sophie? How long have they been back?"
         "Only a month...or three." Sophie whispered, Keefe drawing her back into his embrace. He gently ran his hand down her hair, pulling her closer and forcing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "You don't have to do it alone, Love. That's why I'm here."