Who: Raven and Murphy What: Raven dreams Where: Raven's House When: Late night Warnings: N/A Status: Complete
Raven Reyes
John Murphy
Things seemed to feel like they were falling downhill these past few days. Or was it a week? Either way, things felt like they were crumbling. It had ended up with John sleeping in her bed instead of his own, not that she cared. They both seemed to sleep just fine when side by side with one another. Sometimes she fell asleep with her head on his chest, feeling the vibration of his heartbeat and other nights he fell asleep with his head on her chest, and her fingers carded through his hair.
Tonight? She’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest and arm around his stomach. Normally, she had no problems staying asleep. Almost unmoving. Something that scared the hell out of Madeline most nights and out of John too. It had him waking her up sometimes. Unfortunately, tonight wasn’t one of those nights. They’d fallen asleep close to 2am and had been doing pretty good, for the most part.
Raven felt like her body had been jolted and tore apart, lurching up into an upright position with her breathing coming out a bit labored. Her whole entire body hurt. The dream right there at the edge of her mind. That escape pod had hit the ground and now her whole body felt like it was burning up. It felt like she couldn’t get her bearings and she moves a bit, intending to get up. Only problem with that? It felt like the world was spinning.
Raven’s sudden movements had John waking up. He opened his eyes, his brain heavy and shrouded in a sleep induced fog, at first unaware what was happening. But then he heard Raven’s labored breathing and his mind caught up to what was going on.
“Raven?” He said her name as he sat up, though she wouldn’t hear him, though he couldn’t even hear it himself. There was an inherent comfort in speaking, even as his hands gestured the words that he said. “What’s wrong? Is it a dream? Did you have a dream?”
That was the most likely scenario. John knew all too well how disorienting the dreams could be upon waking, depending on what was going on. His eyes flickered over her form. She wasn’t bound and gagged, there was no noose around her neck. But there was definitely something going on.
"John?"
She'd seen his movement out of the corner of her eye, and like him speaking was a comfort. Even if neither of them really did it much. Not unless they seriously had to. Why talk with your voice when you could talk with your hands? It takes her a minute to even realize what it is he's signing, her mind that disoriented.
"It was a dream." Her hands sign back. One that she wasn't entirely sure what to think about. Even though there was no noose around her neck, there was blood in her hairline. Her body felt like it had been put through a ringer. Like she'd been fighting. Something that she didn't do. Or, if she did, she didn't like doing it.
"Everything, hurts."
His eyes zero in on the blood and he reaches up to touch it. It’s very real. You’re bleeding, he signs, concern etched into his features. Whatever else is happening can wait, he wants to get her cleaned up.
He slips out of the bed, puts a hand out to tell her to stay put. He’ll get a rag to clean her face. He returns to the bed a minute later with a wet rag and a dry cloth. He hands her the cloth and sets the rag to her hairline.
Explanations can wait until after he’s cleaned her up.
When he reaches up to touch her head, she winces slightly. Though seeing the blood on his fingertips has her reaching up and touching near her temple. Those fingers come away with blood and she just stares at it. Maybe that's why she'd felt so out of it.
Even if he hadn't told her to stay put, she probably would've. Since she'd already attempted to get up and had felt dizzy. A feeling that she didn't like, not in the least bit. She wondered if the spacesuit, that had already showed up, had a crack in its helmet now. Not that she felt like moving to find out.
When he comes back, she takes the cloth and winces but lets him clean her head up.
He doesn’t attempt to talk to her while he cleans her up, using the wet rag first, then the dry cloth. He takes his time, getting all of the blood from her forehead and as much out of her hair as he can. His eyes rake over her face. She looks...tired.Exhausted, really.
He remembers how he felt when he woke up in the middle of being hanged. Obviously that wasn’t happening with her. He had no idea what she might have dreamed, especially since she wasn’t on the ground with him and the other Delinquents.
He sets both towels aside, and looks into her eyes. What happened?
Exhausted was one word for it. Even if she'd already slept. The dreams, however, had just messed her up that much more. A part of her wanted to go back to sleep, but at the same time didn't. What if the dreams came back? She couldn't risk that.
She doesn't really move when he cleans all the blood off of her. Merely closes her eyes before opening them again. Last thing she wanted was to see what had happened in this other life. That other life could go straight to hell, for all she cared.
The escape pod I'd mentioned before? It hit the ground. It was a rocky descent and my head cracked against the helmet on the spacesuit. There was more to it than that. There was a guy too. Finn. Supposedly, he's the reason I went to the ground.
I know Finn. John frowned. He’s one of the Delinquents. He hadn’t been directly involved in the hanging, but he was there. He seemed to be something of a peace maker. A bit rough around the edges, but they all were, even John himself. He was completely different in the dreams.
That’s the connection then. You were coming down to us. Except John wasn’t there anymore. He’d been banished after the hanging. Exiled. Kicked out. Forced to survive on his own. And since he hadn’t had any dreams since then, he had no idea what happened to himself out there. If he was dead, or not.
If you cracked your head hard enough, you might have a concussion..
You do?
There were so many different people near the dropship. Something that she'd noticed when she'd sent up the flares. That was something else that had been weird in the dream too.
Abby was supposed to come down too.
Clarke's mom was supposed to come down with her, but she hadn't. She'd made sure that Raven had gone down to Earth. So, she wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the other girl's mom. Something that worried her a bit. Especially when the last thing she'd been told was to tell Clarke that the woman loved her.
Oh, yay. Means I can't go back to sleep. Also, dream Bellamy is a dick.
John laughed out loud at that. Yeah, he is. Raven didn’t know Bellamy was the one who kicked the crate out from under him when he was hanged. He didn’t think she needed to know. Bellamy would know, when he had that dream. Clarke would know, too. He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them before they dreamed it, even if he probably should tell Bellamy.
You won’t see me there. I was banished.
Dream me and him nearly went at each other. If not for Finn and Clarke, we would've. Since dream him kind of ruined our chance of talking to the Ark.
It was something that she really just wanted to forget about. Bellamy wasn't like that here. Nor could she even picture him being a complete and total dick. From what she could gather, he'd done it to help his sister. Or keep from dying since he'd shot the Chancellor.
I think I managed to get a message to the Ark, though. Well, sort of. Dream me is just... holy crap, knows too much about mechanical stuff.
I don’t think dream me would care if you got a message to the mother ship, but. Real me is proud of dream you for doing that. From what I can tell, it probably wasn’t easy, since we lost all communication when we landed on the ground.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing Bellamy continued to be an asshole. He would expect nothing less, though, considering how much of an asshole he’d been to John. But that wasn’t the Bellamy they knew. Real life Bellamy was a good guy, a friend and someone John felt he could trust with his life.
It was a weird position to be in. Having a friend that in the dreams was someone he hated. Because he did, his dream self hated Bellamy. Maybe it was a good thing he’d been kicked out of the camp, with Raven there now. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know dream Raven, in case she ended up being a terrible person too.
No, it wasn't easy. We had to make flares from parts of the dropship. Though, dream me makes everything look far too damn easy. I don't like how easy it is.
Though, it made her curious on why the dream version of her best friend wouldn't want the Ark getting any type of message. Not that she wanted to think about it too much. Especially when she had a headache. One that felt like it was splitting her skull open.
How're we going to keep me awake?
We could go downstairs and raid the kitchen, because that was always fun. There was always something, some special treat tucked away, somewhere. Madeline spoiled Raven, and she spoiled John too. Ridiculously so.
Or we could play a game. I don’t know. Something. But you’re not sleeping until I know it’s safe for you to sleep. Concussions were not something to fool around with.
I don't know if I'm up for standing. I'd been going to get up when the world kind of spun on me, then you'd woken up.
It was probably a good thing that he had woken up too. If anything, to keep her from falling back asleep. It didn't, however, mean that they couldn't try going downstairs. They'd just have to keep an eye on her, that was all.
How will we know when it's safe?
We’ll have Madeline check you over first thing, he says. That’s probably the safest bet. Hell, if he was smart he’d probably go get her up now. He wouldn’t though, not as long as Raven was talking and making sense.
It’s been a few minutes, Let’s see if you can stand now. If not, we’ll stay right here. He’d stay awake with her all night, and keep her awake. She’d do the same for him if the roles were reversed.
Okay.
Madeline was always the safest bet. She would know what to do in case something was seriously wrong. If either of them were thinking straight, they'd have gone and woken her up. Unfortunately, neither of them were really thinking about it. Thinking hurt anyway.
Honestly? She didn't want to see if she could stand. Though, eventually she moves to stand and ends up wobbling a bit. However, after a few minutes everything seemed to be okay. She wasn't sensing any vertigo. Yet.
John wasn’t going to carelessly risk Raven’s safety. He kept a hand on her as they started to move out of the bedroom. He wouldn’t be able to hear if she articulated with sound, so he had to be aware of her body language, and so he was watching her carefully, intently.
The stairs could be a problem, and if he was thinking clearly, or at all really, he wouldn’t have suggested going downstairs. He would have gone to get Madeline and had her check Raven over. But he hadn’t, and so they were going to tackle the stairs. John went down ahead of her, one step at a time, hands on her to give her support.
Raven was glad that John was there. The feel of his hand was warm against her skin, even as they moved out of the bedroom. She was trying to see if anything else felt out of sorts. Other than it feeling a bit like the world was spinning around her. That was never a good sign.
She was glad that John had gone down ahead of her, even if him going one step at a time was causing the descent on the stairs to be slow. More than slow, really. They were snails gliding along the sidewalk kind of slow. Not that she cared at that moment. There's only a couple of times that her balance wavers and she nearly falls into him.
Luckily? They manage to get downstairs without too many problems. Except now? There was no way in hell she was going back up those stairs. Staying downstairs would be better.
John wasn’t going to have a problem staying downstairs. That wasn’t an issue at all. He was all for whatever was easier, whatever Raven wanted. “What do you want to eat?” He guided her to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. They might get more comfortable in the living room, in front of the TV maybe, but for now they were in the kitchen.
“I know Madeline made cookies earlier. And there’s a cake too. Or we could make sandwiches.” He didn’t really care, he just wanted to make her focus on something like making a decision.
They'd definitely have to stay downstairs, curled up on the couch to watch television or something. The fact that John was trying to make her thing was a bit annoying, even if she knew why he was doing it. All she wanted to do? Sleep. But he wasn't going to let her.
Her head hurt like a bitch too, so making decisions of any sort hurt," We'll make sandwiches." Unlike most people, unfortunately, even if they watched TV the explosions of an action film wouldn't really keep them awake. Not when they couldn't hear it, but maybe the vibrations would help. If they turned it up loud enough.