Who: Everrett Mac and Ky Janes What: Snuggling on the couch, a nightmare, and revelations When: [Backdated] July 21 2008, bedtime Where: Everrett's Flat Rating: PG-13 for allusions to experimentation and possible torture Status: Closed; complete
Ky curled closer to Everrett's side. He'd spent the past week worrying--first over Everrett, then over Fred, and now over the both of them. And that, paired with the bad feeling he got for giving Everrett more nightmares tended to make him a bit less of his bouncy self. He was content to just sit like this with Everrett, on the couch, TV on after dinner and just waiting for bedtime. He hadn't asked to go out like the day they went to the park, though he had been cutting out of work early the past few days to spend time searching for Fred before he had to get back for dinner and bed.
And bed was the place where he had to figure out how to get out from Everrett without waking him again, because more recently the boy had taken to throwing an arm or leg over Ky and effectively keeping him caught in bed and unable to sneak out like he needed to. It was wearing on them both and he knew it, but there's nothing he could do. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away and just hoping tonight would be different.
"Sleepy yet?" he asked Everrett, nose nuzzling into his neck, breath and skin warm.
Everrett watched an old episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer through half-lidded eyes with his glasses sliding low on his nose, making everything go out of focus. He was vaguelly aware that Ky was being all cute (as usual) beside him, nose in his hair, breath on his neck. "Chyeaaah," was his less than coherent reply.
"You?"
He reached beside him and patted Ky's arm, looping his own underneath it and tugging the other boy closer for a soft, lazy kiss. His legs were draped over the other boy's lap, long and thin despite his height, clad in ancient skinny jeans and mismatched converse with the laces undone. His head was propped up on the arm of the chair, on top of a bright yellow cushion, hair fanned out underneath him and tickling the other boy's nose.
Ky had stopped watching the television a while ago, though not because he didn't enjoy the show. He loved this show, because he could really connect with Buffy. She was The Chosen One, made to fulfill a task she had no chance to say no to. She didn't have the freedom to do that, and Ky understood that all too well. But it was easy to get distracted with the clean smell of Everrett's hair and the slightly sweaty smell of his skin filling Ky's nose.
"Mm," he murmured noncommittally, leaning into the kiss. He didn't try to push it to anything else, liked it lazy and slow like this, to be enjoying each slide of tongues and the pressure of their lips.
Almost as soon as the kiss started, Everrett was breathing heavily into Ky's mouth, his eyes closed, chest heaving slowly. His grip relaxed on the other boy but his legs were still heavy on his lap, trapping them there. Eventually, everything was dark and heavy (not just the legs), and he was floating into dreams and out of them, memories from the days past and memories that his mind had completely made up.
Blond hair and blue eyes. Grey fur and bloody paws. Silver trays falling, the sound of instruments clattering against stone floors ringing in his ears.
There was a roar of pain from the large cat trapped in the glass cage, blood on the floor and on it's paws as people looked on. Others from Everrett's department, some with clipboards, taking notes. Others with more shining instruments, some already gleaming with blood and nothing but smiles on their faces.
There was another roar, then the transformation back to a woman, naked and bleeding and eyes just pleading as she reached out to Everrett.
Ah - the nakedness again. Fred reminded Everrett too much of his sister and it was weird - it scared him. He couldn't look, let alone touch her to save her. So he turned again, covering his eyes, knocking over more trays as he tried to run from the room.
Ky gasped, eyes wide as his mind jerked back from Everrett's. Before, he couldn't remember anything he saw in the nightmares he gave. But slowly, he could remember images here and there though none seemed terribly important to remember. They would be forgotten just as quickly as he remembered them. But this--this was impossibly to forget. He was shaking slightly as he stared at Everrett, the images of what he just saw reeling through his head. Fred changing, bleeding, in front of Everrett and those other people who's faces he couldn't seem to remember. He needed to figure out who they were, where they were and just how Everrett came to see that because Ky had never seen Fred change--it had to come from Everrett's memories. With a slightly pained and worried look, he went back in to Everrett's unconscious.
As Everrett tried to escape the room, a set of hands grabbed his arms, pulling him back in. "You can't go anywhere until we're done with the experiment. You don't want to let down your team, do you?"
"But I'm still in training!" Everrett protested, struggling weakly in the man's hard grasp. He was spun around on his heel, forced to face what was going on. "I'm not even supposed to be here..."
He glanced from the cage to the Unspeakables, standing there with their clipboards, their faces blank. Panic surged through his body and he knew he was going to get in trouble if Pritchard knew he'd come into this room.
Next to Ky, Everrett's sleeping body began to hyperventilate.
Ky did something he hadn't before, fighting to focus on the faces of the others as Everrett looked at them, trying to get a clue of were. He hated doing it but he had to know. It was hard to do, to focus on the images and not truly hurt Everrett--his temples began to throb a thin sheen of sweat was shining on his forehead. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Everrett's breathing and pulled back again.
He cradled his head in his hands, pulling in shaky breaths and tears shining in his eyes. Why was Everrett there? What has he been doing? All sorts of thoughts ran through his head, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. I need to tell someone--Finn, maybe.
Everrett groaned, rolling onto his side to face the couch, curling his knees up and unknowingly kicking the other boy in the process. The images were starting to fade, but he was still in that negative area of sleep where everything felt too fuzzy, too vague - frightening.
Ky yelped softly, more of surprise than real pain but the way the other boy shifted finally allowed him to squirm off the couch. He stood beside it for a moment, watching the lines of Everrett's back and that dark, bad feeling returning, mixing with the worry and panic from his realisation. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and part of him just wanted to go outside and run until he really couldn't. But his head hurt too much and he didn't know where he'd go. So instead, he padded softly to the window, pushing it open and straddling the edge of it, the cool air sharp in his lungs as the images replayed over and over behind closed eyelids.