air's splices

Aiden’s companion.

One of the other’s that Heatran took pity on and saved. She also serves Heatran. She follows wherever Aiden goes.

Connor decided that since I had claimed Aiden, I might as well give him a companion SO HERE SHE IS DAMN IT >:V She’s… not my first splice, but, she’s my second one. Yeah I’ve only ever made two :’D

(( Pokemon used: Magmar, Rapidash, Sunflora, Gardevoir, Ninetails and Kirlia )).

Claws

It didn’t have to be specific memories anymore, nor did it have to be scenarios cooked up off of those memories.  It could be the scent of its breath, intermingled with blood and decay.  It could be the horrible, snaking cold infusing back into his bones and lingering over his body like an impenetrable sheet.  This time, it was its claws.  Running over the sticks that held together his castle.  Clutching onto his clothes and scraping his skin.  Slashing wildly at his face.

The claws splice the air just before his eyes, and he’s sure that with another millimeter they’ll be slitting them open, sending rivers of blood down his cheeks.  And then he can feel it- the warm liquid against his face and…the damp pillow, the sweaty sheets against his pajamas.

It didn’t have to be specific memories anymore, and that was the hardest thing for Will Byers to grasp about the nightmares.  Six days had given him a million variations of nightmares, from the mysterious voice wafting through to him and promising that he’d be okay to the bloody remains of Barb laid out before him and promising that he’d be next.  Over a month had passed since his week in the Upside Down, and he wasn’t even close to wearing out his store of night terrors.  Because of this, fears completely unrelated to the Demogorgon crowded into the leftover space in his head.  What if he had nightmares on Christmas Eve, right before his favorite holiday?  What if he had nightmares during a sleepover at the Wheeler’s and he scared all the boys with them?  What if they never got better, not even a little bit, and he could only expect sleeplessness and anxiety as soon as the lights went out each night?

But for the time being, those fears were irrelevant.  All Will could feel was the darkness pressing in around him, squeezing his lungs like the putrid air of the Upside Down.  But he was in his room, in his house, with Jonathan in one room and his mom in the other.  He was safe…but without anyone to reassure him of that, the actual nature of his safety meant nothing.  He could   walk to Joyce’s room, but even just the space between his bed and his door looked daunting.  He berated himself in his head- he could survive a week being hunted by a monster but he couldn’t muster up the courage to cross a room- but he couldn’t help himself.  

“Mom?”  Even the sound of his own voice against the silence terrified him.  It was just like the Upside Down- he spoke and sang into open air and his voice, even as he whispered, sounded so loud against the harsh nothingness around him.  “Mom!”

What if the nightmares never got better?  “Mom!”

And then the soft creak of her bedroom door opening, followed by the soft pad of her footsteps.  “Will?”

Will tried to respond, but a combination of embarrassment, exhaustion, and unrelenting fear choked the words out of him.  Joyce didn’t need words anyway; she had learned about the nightmares early on thanks to a particularly violent fit of sobbing that followed his first vivid dream.  Silently, Will rolled back the sheets and without hesitation Joyce climbed underneath them, tucking him between her arms and pressing her cheek against his head.

“Another dream?”  The question should’ve been unnecessary, but there where nights were Will wouldn’t get to sleeping at all.  Will nodded.

And their newly adopted ritual began again, this time without the string of questions (“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?  Do you want to talk about it?  Do you want me to tell you a story?”) beforehand.  Joyce leaned back against the pillows.  “When I was pregnant with you, Jonathan was very excited.  He promised that he’d be a good big brother whether the baby was a boy or a girl, but when he found out that he would be having a baby brother, he was just ecstatic.  I let him pick out your name from a list I’d made and he asked you for each name just to make sure you were okay with it.  He’d say, ‘Do you like the name Anthony?  Kick if you like the name Anthony’, and as soon as he’d said it he’d look at me to know if you’d given it your stamp of approval.  He was getting discouraged when finally he asked if you liked Will, and right away you gave me this big kick that told me Will was the name for you.  And Jonathan must have told that story to anyone that would listen after it happened.  ‘I’m going to have a baby brother soon, and his name will be Will, and did you know that he told us that he wanted that name?’  He wanted to meet you so badly that story was the only thing that got him through all the waiting.  And have I told you about the pancakes?”

Somewhat shakily, Will got out, “Yes.  But you can tell me about it again if you want.”

“Well,”  Joyce reverted back into her story-telling voice.  “You would be there any day then, and I was spending most of the time in bed.  It was the middle of August and Jonathan wanted to go to the park that day, but when he heard that I wasn’t feeling well enough to go anywhere or even to get out of bed, he immediately rushed to the kitchen.  He wanted to make me the sick kid breakfast, which you know is applesauce over pancakes.  He had seen me do it enough times and he was eager to try it out himself, so I just stayed in bed and let him.  But after a while, I started to worry.  He was taking an awfully long time for one plate of pancakes.  But a few minutes later he came in absolutely beaming, and I found out that he hadn’t made one plate, he had made two.  Five pancakes on each, as big as your whole face and covered with what must’ve been a whole jug of apple sauce.  I told him I couldn’t eat ten pancakes, and right away he said, ‘one plate for you, and one plate for Will!’.  As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.”

The thought of Jonathan standing at the foot of Joyce’s bed, covered in pancake batter and flashing his baby teeth, eased the memories of the claws until Will could laugh again.  At the sound of Will’s renewed laughter, Joyce pressed a kiss against his hair.  “You know your brother and I love you a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah,”  Will replied, sniffling away the last of the tears.  “Yeah, I do.”


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