I’m sorry for being trash. @thearcanagame keeps dropping these juicy hints during Ask Arcana about swamp doctor having masochistic tendencies and this just…happened. I should have been asleep an hour ago. BYE.
Filling the prompt “a fic about Van having like crazy intense nightmares very often that wake him up in the middle of the night and the only thing he wants is to be held by his gf or whatever?”
Note: A fun coincidence. I wrote this fic at 2:30 am after waking up from a nightmare. Art imitates life.
Van’s nightmares were probably the reason you were together. There was a house party when you were younger. All night you’d been stalking each other through the rooms, across the makeshift carpeted dancefloor, through the uncut backyard grass. High on life and probably a lot of other things, Van had passed out on the floor of Milo’s bedroom around 2 am. You stood in the doorway with Milo.
“Can I get a blanket for him?” you asked.
“Yeah. You know where the spares are at. Who is he anyway?”
“He came with Bond. He’s the singer of that band he joined,” you answered. Milo nodded and walked away.
After wedging a pillow under his head and covering him with a blanket, you left Van to his drunken dreams. An hour later, you stumbled back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Only twenty minutes into your own slumber and you woke at the sound of Van’s hand smacking into the bedside table. His rings hit with a force that should have made him wake. You sat up and turned the lamp on. He was dead to the world but quite clearly having a nightmare. A vivid, horrible nightmare.
For probably too long, you watched his face contort into expressions of worry and fear and maybe revulsion. His left hand continued to hit close-by objects as his arm waved around. His legs twitched and when his lips parted you could hear how fast his breathing was. Your drunk brain snapped into action at the sound. On your knees next to him, you tried to gently shake him awake. No response. He whimpered and scrunched his nose up.
Luke knew that parenthood was never going to be easy when his girlfriend left him standing in the delivery ward with their baby clasped in his hands. his 5 year old daughter striking up a feud with the son of a coldly beautiful single mum was not a complication he had anticipated though. nor was falling in love with her.
‘Daddy! Sampson and Y/N are here!’ Luna yelled, small feet drumming across the floor as she ran to the door.
'Just coming lu-lu.’ Luke replied, hurrying down the stairs almost as quickly as his daughter and opening the door.
'Hi Luke.’ Y/N smiled, setting Sampson down and watching fondly as the two children darted giggling through Luke’s legs and up to Luna’s room. 'Thanks again for having him on such short notice.’
'It’s fine, the least I could do considering the situation.’ Luke smiled back, hesitating slightly before he spoke again. 'I do have a sitter on standby just in case you know, I could come with you if you wanted someone else there.’
'I don’t think that’s really necessary.’ Y/N smiled softly. 'I know he came off a little badly yesterday but I think it was a shock for him too to see me with someone else. And considering his mother had just passed away as well…’ Y/N trailed off and Luke felt a pang of guilt as he thought of how alone the other man must be feeling without any family left.
'You’re right, I’m sorry.’ he shook his head.
'You have nothing to apologise for, you’ve helped me so much.’ Y/N reminded him, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it briefly.
'I understand how hard it can be sometimes.’ Luke shrugged, unable to keep the fondness from his voice as he looked down at Y/N.
'Well, I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Hopefully around 8 so Sampson should have fallen asleep properly by then.’ Y/N said, peering around Luke so she could yell up the stairs. 'Bye Sammy!’
‘Bye Mommy! Love you!’ they heard the little boy’s voice call.
‘Love you too sunshine!’ Y/N replied. ‘Goodbye then.’ She smiled to Luke.
‘Bye.’ He said, watching as she walked back out to her car.
‘Luke wait.’ Y/N said, turning back around and walking back to the house. ‘Do I look okay?’ she asked nervously, looking down at her outfit and tugging nervously at the hem of her dress.
‘You look beautiful.’ Luke said quietly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N looked up at Luke with lips slightly parted, a glimmer he couldn’t decipher in her eyes as she started to lean in towards him.
Staring blankly at the ceiling in the dark, a sigh fell from his lips before he brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. He should be used to this, the empty space beside him, the empty drawers that once held your belongings, the silence in the dead of the night. He should be used to it all...but he wasn't. He probably never would be because for some sad reason he believed you'd come back. He believed things would go back to how they once were, with you curled up beside him and using his chest as a headrest. All he had now was this empty space beside him. He pitied himself for still holding on to something that kept him lying awake in the complete darkness.
It's when he felt the most at ease, when he didn't feel surrounded and was able to finally breathe...when it was completely dark and you were beside him. Turning over in the bed to face you, a tired smile made its way to his lips as he raked his eyes over your unconscious face. Even in your deep slumber you shuffled closer, drawn to the heat that was radiating off him, sniffling a bit once your head nuzzled into his chest. Yet he didn't feel crowded...he never did when he was with you. You could be hanging off his every limb and he'd still be relaxed because you was his safe haven. He needed you, even if he didn't do well showing it while you were awake, he needed you pressed up against him in the dark to help him unwind. Needed you near so he too could fall into unconsciousness.
He felt it the most when he tossing and turning in bed, the loneliness. Groaning, he settled on lying on his back, plucking his his phone off the bedside table. It didn't take him long to find your number, being that it was the last one he'd called. "I knew you wouldn't answer..." He chuckled with a shake of his head after the call went to voicemail, "it's late and you're most likely asleep...probably what I should be doing honestly." He sighed taking his lower lip between his teeth as he opted to stay quiet for a moment. "I miss you [Y/N]...I-I'm sorry I called...I'm just have trouble letting it go. Letting us go. I took you for granted and now-I'm sorry." He repeated bringing his free hand up to rub at his eyes. "I won't call you anymore...I know you don't want me to. So uh...bye. Just know I'm really sorry." He sighed quickly ending the call and letting the phone fall to his chest. This is what he got...he deserved to be lonely right now in his dark empty room.
He caught a hold of your elbow as you nearly made it out of his bed. "You don't have to go..." He spoke softly letting his hand fall from around your elbow and pushed his fingers through his unruly hair. "I mean I wouldn't mind if you stayed." He shrugged dropping his head back down onto his pillow with his eyes still trained on you. "Harry I-I don't know." You mumbled, nibbling on your lower lip as you reached for your pile of clothes and you heard a sigh leave his lips. "Why do you always do this?" He asked with knitted brows as he sat up in the bed. "You keep giving me this false hope that we have something only for you to sneak away in the middle of the night...I just don't get it. I don't get you [Y/N]." He frowned looking on as you proceeded to slip into your clothes. "There's nothing to get Harry..." You mumbled toeing into your flats and peering over at him. "See you."
His thoughts always trailed back to the one thing he didn't want to think about in the middle of the night...you. The thoughts of you kept him up in the darkness of his room. He was exhausted because you were always in his head. At times he'd thought about just getting up and heading over to your house, swallowing his pride. He just couldn't will himself. He's tried moving on...but it was always you. It was always you that he wanted. He knew that from the beginning, yet he sat there and watched you pack your things acting as if he didn't care if you stayed or went. He was to blame, that he knew, so he suffered. Suffered with the thoughts of you streaming through his head day in and day out. It was always in the darkness of his room when it hurt the most.
This is a submitted series by a writer who wished to stay anonymous,
so I will be transferring their submissions to text posts yay! I just
wanted to make it
known that this work is not mine, and all credits go to the original
author that decided to submit their series to my blog. Enjoy!
like actually though I CONSTANTLY work on my fic like in the car I proofread passages and when I’m at family parties I secretly type excerpts and email them to myself and in the shower I use oil pastels to write notes on the tile and as I fall asleep I picture how I’ll set up the camera pans when I make it into a film one day