Before: Nightmares

[sliceitwithwind]

At age six Dilan wasn't quite fast enough in a physical sense to keep up with Braig. He tried really hard but his legs were too short and his arms were too short. Braig pretty much put up with him, as far as he could tell, because their mothers expected him to

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[thinkitwithguns]

"Nnnnrgh?"

Half-awake anyway, that tug's enough to bring him more-or-less to consciousness, and he half-sits up, leaning on one elbow, and pushing his hair out of his face.

"Whassamatter?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"I had a bad dream." Dilan says again. He's got a plush Moogle tucked under his arm and is looking diffident. He wouldn't be surprised if Braig sent him away, "Can I sleep with you?"

[thinkitwithguns]

"Only if you tell me about it," Braig replies. He sits all the way up, and pats the side of the bed.

[sliceitwithwind]

He's tiny enough that he has to scramble to get all the way into bed so the Moogle goes up first. Then he cuddles up with his head against Braig's chest. "I dreamed that I was at the beach house and nobody was there and it was just me and it was storming like that time when the tree came down."