Things That Go Bump in the Night

Richard trudged to his room with a heavy heart and heavier eyelids. With his self-imposed vigil over, he found himself both yearning and dreading the promise of sleep. He nudged open the door to his room with a foot and somehow managed to stay upright as he shoved it shut again before shuffling over to and collapsing onto his bed.

Instantly, he found himself standing in his family home as it burned, and his head ached from the metaphorical whiplash. There was the sound of glass shattering, and a familiar sickly sweet smell permeated the air. Smoke tore angry chunks out of his lungs and he coughed violently. He could hear the sounds of people fighting, but this...

This wasn't right.

Before he could remember why, though, he was racing down the hallway, barefoot and shivering despite the flames that hungrily reached towards his skin. His feet blistered from the heat and still he ran to his brother's room, yanking the door open. Benediktas, only slightly younger then, blearily jolted awake, the sudden intake of breath sending him into a coughing fit. Richard took a moment to thank his father for making him suffer through hours of physical training as he hoisted his brother onto his shoulders and darted back into the hallway.

He needed to find father too. That could come later, though. He stumbled down the hallway intent on sparing his brother from the blistering pain his feet were dealing with, and cast a passing glance over the collapsed stairwells. They were too high up to jump to the first floor, so he wheeled around and began running, the house heaving and shifting in time with his frantic breathing. The sounds of violence downstairs increased, there were shouts of alarm. None of that mattered. He needed to find father, and needed to get Benediktas out. The balcony could do, there were trellises to climb down: he and Benediktas had snuck out that very route many times.

A great chasm opened before them as he ran: a chunk of the ceiling fell through the floor with little more than a groan and the sound of firewood shifting, amplified many times over. He skidded to a stop, kicking up embers in the process. The balcony door was just on the other side, and he snarled fearfully at the unfairness of it all. Sweat dripped down both brothers, and while Benediktas heaved great, gasping breaths through the back of his robe, he could scarcely breathe. Wide-eyed vision now tinging black around the edges, Richard weighed his options for a single moment. He raised his voice, hoarse from smoke, so his brother could hear him over the roar of the flames.

"If I say jump, leap as far as you can. Get on the balcony, get down, get to safety. If you do not see father or me within ten minutes, go to the Kairys house, they like us well enough and will probably let you stay should the worst happen."

"Brother, w-what are you going to do?"

"Remember how you said you always wanted to fly, Benediktas? Now would be a good time for that wish of yours to be true.

And with that, he sprinted the distance between him and the chasm, soaring through the air. For a moment, there was silence, the action suspended as time slowed to a crawl. It was almost peaceful.

He wasn't going to make it.

"Jump Benediktas!" His voice was muffled, he realized. As if speaking underwater. He was going to fall. He accepted that as his brother launched himself off his back, clearing the chasm with scarcely an inch to spare. With a sickening 'thud', time and sound resumed their normal progression, and he landed on the ground floor. With a groan, he braced himself with his hands and pushed himself up. It was at that moment he realized he couldn't feel one of them. It was the moment following that he realized his hand was now merely a mess of melting flesh.

The fact he couldn't feel it did not bode well, and the fact that he could only manage weak breaths against the fierce burning in his lungs was a mournful dirge played in the destruction of his home around him.

He had to find his father. Gritting his teeth against the unbearable pain, Richard let out a single sob and clutched his hand to his chest, the sob turning to a high-pitched keen as his left foot tried to buckle out from under him with a surge of white-hot pain.

A broken ankle, a hand that would surely have to be amputated, and his father was nowhere in sight. Operating purely by instinct and memory, he stumbled towards the main hall, where he had heard the sounds of arguments.

He rounded the corner just in time to see his father, face-to-face with another man, the pair of them surrounded by corpses, shattered glass, and burning house-bits. Both men noticed him a split second after he limped into the room as fast as his leg would carry and shouted out a warning to him.

"RIČARDAS! Run! You need t-"

There was a gunshot, and his father jolted with the force of it, falling to the ground. The intruder threw his gun aside and pulled out a knife, leaping over the table between him and Richard. The man snarled in some language he didn't understand but it didn't matter. In that moment, all he could see was his father's corpse on the ground, blood pooling in such a way he fancied he could see wings. The other man was upon him within seconds, and as the mans fist connected with his face, something snapped inside of him.

The next moment he was aware of his surroundings, he was tearing into the man's chest cavity, screaming and sobbing through the pain of it all, both physical and emotional. He stuttered to a stop when he realized what he was doing but he didn't want to. It felt right, it felt just, to carve away at the thing that left him and his brother orphans without a home.

He disgusted himself, and he staggered to his feet once more. He was still screaming. The screams were perched beneath his throat and now they bubbled free, one after another.

He didn't notice staggering out the front door into the snow outside. He didn't notice falling face first into it, some hundred yards away. He didn't notice Benediktas carrying him like he had carried Benediktas but a few moments ago. He didn't notice he was hoarse from screaming, and he payed no mind to the blood soaking through every part of him

He didn't notice when the nightmare stopped and he woke up. After a moment, he realized he had been screaming in the waking world as well: his throat ached and the echos of the noise he made seemed to now be imprinted in the very walls themselves.

He didn't notice how he tried to stumble out the door, only to fall and lean against the doorway, leaving his room open for all to see.

He noticed that his hands were shaking, and he was shedding tears. He had tried so hard to repress that memory, and still it crept forward now and again. He noticed that his pocket watch said he had been asleep for all of an hour, if not less than one.

He resigned himself to another night without sleep and made a note to try and get some the next day, lest he start hallucinating properly.

For that moment, though, he just wrapped Jack's coat around him and tried to make himself as small as possible once he doubled back to curl up on one of the armchairs in his room. He didn't know why he had tried leaving his room, but the door was open and he couldn't be bothered to shut it again. His heart hammered in his chest; A million thoughts tried to curl around him like the smoke in his home and-

He stared at the wall and tried to forget.

Decipherer: The brothers were just barely beginning to snore when the shrieking began. With a shared look, Elias and Artemis both bolt, tearing through the halls with wide eyes. They skidded to a stop; Elias breathed out a small curse. It was Richard's room. The older of the two made a gesture to his sibling, and Artemis quickly stepped back with a concerned frown and a nod of his head. Elias slid the door open wider with a practiced caution, but he is soon at Richard's side. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Tairais:  Richard laughed. He hadn't meant to laugh, but the juxtaposition between the terror lingering in the form of billowing smoke and the taste of blood in his mouth and the kind softness of Elias' voice was so stark, the screams perched like so many anxious birds in his chest rippled to the surface in the form of hysterical laughter. "N-nothing! I h-happened! I w-wish I c-could s-say I a-am w-well b-but t-that is c-clearly not t-the c-case, y-yes?" His voice shook as badly as his hands, thin and high as his eyes darted around the room. This was not something he wanted Elias to see, not something he wanted anyone to see, and still it kept happening. His laughter eventually simmered down to a resigned chuckle, interspersed with hiccups. When it stopped, he sighed, visibly slouching with the exhale. "T-this.. h-happens o-often. I a-am usually able t-to r-realize w-when I am d-dreaming f-faster, w-which allows me t-to control m-my responses, b-but I m-made the m-mistake of n-not... l-locking my t-thoughts away, y-you could say." He tore his gaze from the floor in front of him to rest on Elias, though it was still glassy and unfocused. He could feel the breath of the stag on his shoulder and waved it away, momentarily unable to summon the energy to care if he looked like a fool. The smell of smoke lingered, and when he focused on Elias' body properly, he saw it wrap around the other man's neck and tear into his heart. He quickly moved his gaze to meet Elias' and narrowed his eyes in a contemplative manner. In a rare moment when his mouth acted quicker than his mind, he said, "I find you utterly perplexing." His eyes widened ever so slightly when he realized what he said, and it took all of the control in his body to recover his mask of contemplation. He sighed internally. ''Something else to add to my extensive list of regrets, then,'' he thought. Decipherer:  Elias' appearance quickly grows flustered by the laughter, the statement, and almost out of finality, his words about Elias himself. Though his mind produced a list of mental counters, his mouth only produced a small, "Oh." He clears his throat, considering Richard's words to be merely accidental to if nothing else stop himself from dwelling on it. He very lightly lays a hand on Richard's shoulder, but almost immediately draws it back, as if the touch had pained him. "It's really fine." His eyes darted around briefly before settling into Richard again, his gaze offering a confusing blend of emotion. Somewhat timidly, and uncharacteristically gently, he speaks, "If you want -- only, if you want -- we can talk about it."

Tairais:  Richard's regrets immediately increased when he noticed how flustered Elias was, and how quiet he was after. This was tempered by surprise when Elias rested his hand on Richard's shoulder: as opposed to most other people, the touch didn't make him jump backwards, nor had it come with the unpleasant sensation of many insects skittering down his arms. His face went completely, unnervingly blank with the conflict of emotion for all of two seconds before he quickly reclaimed his look of resigned, weary, thoughtfulness. He sighed softly and noted that despite the fact he had wrapped his arms around his knees, his hands were still shaking. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally decided on what he was going to say, and it frustrated him he couldn't do so quicker. "I a-apologize f-for unsettling y-you. T-that w-was not m-my intention, t-though it n-now occurs t-to me I am n-not entirely c-certain what m-my intention w-was in the f-first place." He frowned again, tilting his head and closing his eyes as if to listen to something far away. He opened his eyes after a few moments and looked around the room while trying to avoid Elias. "I am n-not certain how t-to begin t-talking about it."

Decipherer:  Elias glanced towards the door in thought, where Artemis had stood - had, being that his brother was absent. Elias could only assume his brother thought he could handle this. God, I hope I can handle this, he mused. His attention returned to his friends soon after such a thought occurred, and he gives a thin smile. "If you truly want to, Richard, then I give you my undivided attention." Tairais:  This time, Richard couldn't keep the surprised look off his face, though he still shifted his facial features into something more subdued. Glancing downwards, he spoke hesitantly, not wanting to unsettle Elias any further. "I.. T-the dream, er, n-nightmare w-was of t-the night my f-family h-home w-was destroyed. M-my f-father.. angered t-the wrong people, I suppose. I w-woke up t-to smoke and f-fire curling up the walls of m-my room and r-ran to assist my brother. I-in getting him to s-safety, I f-fell onto a pile of b-burning rubble the f-floor below us, b-burning m-my left hand t-to the p-point of.. w-well, the f-first of m-many amputations. I t-turned b-back t-to find m-my father only t-to see him f-face to f-face with m-my uncle, of a-all people. T-they w-were arguing, t-the c-chandelier above t-them w-was about t-to fall, and.. Well. My f-father tried t-to get me t-to run, m-my uncle w-wanted to d-dispose of t-the witnesses... Y-you can see h-how that turned out." Once he started speaking, he couldn't stop. Words fell from his mouth like raindrops or bullets, ringing in the hollow feeling in his chest. Quietly, he added. "I can s-still see the s-smoke." He waved a hand towards Elias' neck and chest, where it was still pouring and falling in an endless cycle. "It i-is around y-you, c-currently. T-there is f-fire on t-the walls. I.." He stopped, oddly devoid of emotion for the time being. Something was out of place and he couldn't entirely tell what, but he continued with his story after a brief pause. "I did n-not ask f-for this. T-they are all d-dead now. A-all t-the effort, and I c-could not s-save a s-single one." He glanced up at Elias again, and smirked slightly, the scars around his chin pulling in a grisly manner. "I w-wonder if I w-will lose y-you t-too. It w-would n-not surprise m-me, b-but I s-should t-think it w-would hurt." Something in that sentence tugged at another memory, and for a few terrifying moments he felt his control start to slip away. He bit down on the inside of his cheek and winced when he suddenly tasted blood. Fortunately, the jolt of pain reconciled him to reality, and his gaze once again darted around the room. He really needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut. Decipherer:  Elias listens to the story with an oddly... blank expression. At the mention of his head and chest, his gaze drops to the respective areas out of simple habit, but he looks back towards Richard soon after. His lightly-colored eyes show a strange glint in the darkness, and he offers a small but warm smirk. "It'll take more to rid you of me." He adds after a brief pause, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "Richard, I... It pains me to see you like this. What can I do?" Despite the calm exterior, Elias struggled internally not to dwell on the thoughts of smoke and fire.

Tairais:  Richard hadn't noticed when his hands had stopped shaking, but the fact remained that they had. Elias' words warmed his heart, and he returned the smile in his typical lopsided way. His smile faded and was replaced by his frequent look of weary resignation. "I a-am not s-so certain t-there is anything y-you c-can do. I d-do not w-wish t-to.. alarm y-you any m-more than I h-have." He definitely didn't want to hurt Elias if he got lost again, and given the progression of his memories on nights like this, there was a high chance of that if the man stayed. Still, he wanted Elias to stay, and wasn't that the strangest thing? His gaze was torn from Elias' when he noticed the stag lingering behind his shoulder. He paled visibly. Not here, not now. That would be significantly harder to explain than the smoke. The stag took a step forward, and though he jumped slightly, he managed to resist the urge to flee entirely.

Decipherer:  Elias lets out a small chuckle, and he assumes a joking, half-flexing pose. "I'm fine, Richard -- " His arms drop to his sides as he eyes his friend's loss of color with concern. "Is... something wrong?"

Tairais:  His smile was there but it was a forced, twitchy little thing. "Y-you could s-say that. L-let us call it a p-particularly p-painful i-illusion." He stood with all the fluidity of a panther, a soft 'thunk' reminding him of his metal foot. He shifted on his feet as the stag stepped behind Elias, towering over him, and his hands twitched with the effort it took not to pull the man away from it. As it was, he found himself snarling, "Nesiartink. Palik jį vieną." The stag regarded him with red eyes full of hunger and disdain, but didn't move.

Decipherer:  Elias' lips twitch into a frown, wishing for the moment being that he could speak Lithuanian -- assuming that was Lithuanian, he added. His eyes dart around the room with a strange wariness, before he says softly, "Whatever it is, please don't be frightened. You are fine." He pauses to consider -- the smoke was around him, wasn't it? A beat passes before he adds tentatively, "... and so am I, if that comforts you."

Tairais:  Richard bared his teeth in a rough approximation of a smile, hands twitching again. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, and the room was in the cusp of turning into a mass of writhing shadows. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of Elias' voice, head tilting slightly. His stomach made a valiant effort to jump out of his throat as vertigo overwhelmed him, but still he stood. Five minutes passed before he could open his eyes, and when he did, the stag had already begun to retreat, hoofbeats echoing in his ribcage. He gaze darted between Elias and the vanishing shadows, though he noticed the smoke still lingered. He finally allowed himself to relax and chuckled softly. "I k-know. Y-you have my thanks." He decided to ignore the black spots dancing in his vision. Had he eaten recently? He didn't know. It could be dealt with later.

Decipherer:  When Richard opens his eyes after minutes pass, Elias is staring at him rather... oddly. It's impossible to tell what's happening in his mind -- but, at the very least, Elias doesn't quite know either. This expression is soon replaced with a crooked smile of relief. It softens into a smirk as he crosses his arms and chuckles softly, "Welcome back."

Tairais:  Richard's smile flickered for the briefest of moments as he tried to figure out the look in Elias' eye. Deeming it a lost cause, he chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "M-my apologies. T-that will h-happen for q-quite a bit, I am a-afraid." Once the fear of the moment was over, Richard could only feel embarrassment, and he desperately wished his scarf was in its usual place. He felt far too exposed.

Decipherer:  Elias again lets out a small laugh, but it lacks any humor. "Don't be sorry." He pauses, trying to think of a way to lighten the moment. His mind produces little, though, and he tips his head back with a sigh, before looking back towards him with a warm, playful smile. "... ' Utterlyperplexing?'"

Tairais:  Maybe exposed wasn't the right word. Extremely awkward, uncomfortable, mortified. Those were also good choices. His face flushed bright red and he leaned back as if to try to avoid a hidden blow. His laughter was both nervous and warm, if such a thing were possible with his odd sound. As he spoke, his hands gestured wildly with his words. "I, e-er. Well, y-yes. I d-did not expect y-you t-to be so k-kind, or m-maybe I am n-not u-u-used to k-kindness b-but you r-remind me of.. a f-friend f-from l-long ago and w-well." He took a shaky breath and chuckled wryly. "W-we did n-not p-part on the b-best of t-terms. I k-keep w-waiting f-for y-your kindness t-to be a joke." He nodded as if to confirm a point. "T-that p-plus a.. great d-deal of.. minor.. t-things.. y-you, er. Utterly p-perplexing. P-perhaps f-fascinating would be a b-better w-word." As soon as Richard spoke, he wished the world would open up and swallow him. When it rather predictably failed to do so, he settled for nervously avoiding Elias' gaze again.

Decipherer:  Elias' smirk softens -- if a smirk can do that -- and he again rests a hand on Richard's shoulder, almost in an effort to placate both Richard's and his own nerves. Jokingly, he asks, "Oh, did he have the looks?" Without awaiting response, Elias' hand eases and he offers a small but genuine smile. "All fun aside, it's okay to relax yourself once in a while. I promise I -- and relaxing, that is -- won't harm you."

Tairais:  Richard clasped his hands over his mouth to smother the fit of giggles that accompanied Elias' touch and smile. Both had their intended effect, as he found himself (not entirely willingly) calmer after a few moments. At the very least, the tension in his shoulders was mostly gone. He nodded after a few moments, still giggling at odd intervals, and grinned. "He d-did, b-but I b-believe I p-prefer t-the present c-company a-all t-the same." He paused to catch he breath before adding, "I k-know. I t-think, at l-lest. I.. m-maybe. Hrm. R-regardless, I am.. c-calmer, in a s-sense n-now." Somewhere in his mind, it occurred to him to be at least a little more mortified at the words that left his mouth, but the rest of him was focused on the lightness of the conversation and the smile on Elias' face. He glanced up from his hands and offered a smaller smile, an unreadable expression of his own dancing in his eyes. "I.. t-trust y-you."For the most part. He added.

Decipherer:  Elias snickers, feeling his job successful as Richard's shoulder tension drained away. He couldn't bring himself to dwell on the fact that Richard trusted him, and he ignored the guilt that pooled in his mind about the matter. This hardly surfaces on his expression, though, and he withdraws his hand with a smirk. "That's good." He adds after a moment with the barest hint of a smile, "I trust you too."

Tairais:  Richard froze for a moment, unbidden memories clambering for attention faster than he could shove them away. Eventually, though, he nodded and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, uncertain if he should say anything. He kept thinking back to his memory-dream and the stag. It had been a year at least since he saw either of them before his return to the Society, why were they reappearing now? He shook his head and added those thoughts to an ever-growing list of things to address later. Nevermind the fact 'later' almost certainly meant 'until the last possible moment.'

Decipherer:  Elias tilts his head with concern, but he too says little, merely observing Richard's actions with mild interest. Minutes pass before he speaks again, "I suppose I should point out that regardless of whether or not you mind, I'm going to stay here with you."

Tairais:  Richard stilled his nervous fidgeting and frowned slightly, mirroring Elias' head tilt in his confusion. "N-now w-why w-would you d-do that? I a-am not g-going t-to sleep any t-time soon, b-but that does n-not mean you should l-lose any m-more because of me." Not only did he feel slightly guilty for keeping Elias awake, he worried about what could happen should he slip into slumber himself. While he was unlikely to experience any nightmares as vivid as the one he already had, his tendencies to wander were another matter entirely, and more than enough reason to lock his door. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen if Elias were in the room during that.

Decipherer:  Elias quirks an eyebrow, his hands vaguely moving with his words after he gestures around the room. "Who is to say you won't fall asleep and have another nightmare? I won't be able to rest at all with the knowledge that you're dealing with something like this alone." Though a couple minor details were neglected, his words would serve their purpose. It was safe to say that Elias would have rested little through the night had Richard's nightmares not occurred anyway; he seldom allowed himself to rest while Artemis did. The Society, as magnificent as it was, was full of dangerous individuals.

Tairais:  Richard grumbled something indistinct in the hoarse but musical tones of his native language, and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was equal parts mildly irritated, frustrated, and concerned. "I d-do not p-plan on f-falling asleep, but I m-may w-without meaning to, and I do n-not wish t-to put y-you at risk f-for.. t-things beyond m-my control. Y-you s-saw h-how I got l-lost in m-my memories b-before, yes? G-given the nature of the f-first dream of t-the night.." He huffed out an exasperated breath, though the emotion was aimed at himself rather than Elias. He glanced past steepled fingers and gone was the nervous ball of energy, replaced by a gaze too old for his age. "I d-do not wish t-to hurt y-you, however s-small a chance t-there is of t-that happening." His hands twitched again, causing the hand resting on his nose to poke him in the eye. Keeping consistent with his current mercurial temperament, the corners of his lips twitched into a snarl and he stalked across the room to his workstation. Sitting down amidst familiar tools and the smell of metal and oil soothed him somewhat, and he began working through the familiar rhythm of replacing some of the wiring. After a few moments, he added as an afterthought, "T-there are s-some books o-on the t-trunk at the f-foot of m-my bed, if y-you are r-really s-so intent on k-keeping me company..." He trailed off as some small part of a problem caught his focus and tore his attention from talking. So long as he kept his hands and mind busy, he would remain awake. Probably. He had been awake for five days by that point, it was hard to tell.

Decipherer: Elias simply takes to watching the odd mix of emotions Richard displays, his face screwed up with a frown. This morphs into concern when the man pokes his eyes, and his eyes follow Richard to where he sits. When he's given the half-permission to stay, Elias lets out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding. He sits on the edge of the bed and retrieves one of the aforementioned books, remaining silent as he begins to read. Tairais:  Fortunately, Richard had the materials on hand for minor repairs, and within half an hour, his ability to feel restored to it's slightly-above-average normalcy. Had he planned to completely negate the twitching, he'd have to completely disconnect his arm, and while he trusted Elias to an extent, there was only so much vulnerability he was willing to share with others. Flexing the joints in each hand, he eventually found himself tapping out the familiar pattern of piano composition his mother had taught him on the table. The rhythm sounded like rain against a window, and he found himself resigned to the course of sleep before he could pull away. He managed to feel a last twinge of alarm before his eyes drifted shut, the tempo of his fingers trailing off into silence. An hour and a half passed in complete stillness before he started to dream, twitching his way through some truly appalling nightmares. He remembered the forgotten parts of his earlier dream, and he remembered similar sorrows further down the line. ''Richard shook his head and came out of his rage-induced stupor to find his uncle's corpse beneath him and the man's murderous heart in his undamaged hand, now coated in viscera. Giddily, he wagered that his heart would look much the same now, given what he had just done. Somewhere, distantly in his mind, it occurred to him that he should be horrified at his actions, but it was belayed by the grief, hope and fear he instead felt when he saw his father start to pull himself towards the main door, smearing the wings of blood he left behind. His father was crying, he realized, like an animal, high-pitched and resigned to his fate. His breath rattled in his chest like coins in a metal can, a ghastly, depressing sound. A man whose composure had so often intimidated him into silence, reduced to nothing but instinct in the end. It broke his heart, and in that moment, he knew his father He staggered to kneel by his father, pulling against the screaming pain in his shoulder to cradle him in his lap. Glassy eyes fixed on his face, and his father's lips twitched in a charismatic grin even as he rasped and gurgled his way past the blood pooling in his mouth. "S-smile, Ričardas. T-this is important to y-your mother, and t-to m-me. D-do.. not weep, m-my darling s-son. M-make sure y-your brother knows" He was clearly lost in some other memory, and Richard could almost feel the cracks in his aching heart. His chest felt it was being ripped apart, ironic, given what had transpired just moments ago. Tears welled in his eyes as grief threatened to crush his throat, and he gave his father a watery, small smile. His father's grin faded as his face paled, but the adoring tone in his voice stayed. "T-that's.. it.. Our d-darling s-son. Y-you'll.. c-charm.. everyone... someday." Richard choked out a sob and clutched his father to his chest. The other man tried to lift an arm to return the embrace but only succeeded in making the limb twitch. ''"Aš t-tave m-myliu Please, d-do n-not l-leave, please." The words may have been foreign, but the meaning was clearly conveyed in a way he never would have allowed while he was awake. Unaware as he was, he buried his face in his hands, a sob escaping every now and then. Save for those occasional sounds, he was silent. ''His voice was choked with grief, hardly a whisper, but even that was loud compared to his father's final exhale. "Aš tave m-myliu, Ričardas. K-keep.. your brother.. safe." Father and son embraced for the last time, though the latter was left without comfort as the former's life left his eyes. Shaking profusely, Richard crossed his father's arms over his chest and gently laid him on the floor before shutting his eyes. Irrationally, he thought of his father's loss of composure, and promised to protect what he had lost in death. Never again would he show emotion to his adversaries. He just had to find a way to hide them in his own fortress. For now though, he thought his father would understand. He stood on shaky feet and inhaled slowly, turning to face the door. His cry of grief pierced their air like a wolf's sorrowful howl. The screams perched in his chest and under his chin began to bubble up, and the nightmare continued on it's course again. ''Of course, his dreams were fickle, tumultuous things, and the scene shifted. ''He was enraged. Lillian had betrayed them, had sabotaged them at every turn, had been unspeakably rude to every member of their team, and still, no one saw it but him. Jack called him irrational, Elise said he was jealous. None of them could see, they were all blind. If they could not open their eyes, he would open them instead. His thoughts crackled like tangible energy, his presence taking up a great deal of room despite his outwardly calm demeanor. If anyone but himself noticed as they went about their various jobs on the work site, no one commented. Lillian herself seemed to be the exception, casting suspicious, almost nervous glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. ''The dream shifted again, the gap in the vault that held his memories momentarily patched as he stood and walked to the center of his room in the waking world, mumbling incoherently as he talked with his hands. A moment later he froze, and a vicious, cruel snarl fixed itself in place. His presence shifted from something hiding in the shadows to something made by them, and he chuckled mockingly in time with his dream. ''When the memory started again, he was laughing at Lillian's attempt to continue with her charade, though her mask was starting to fray at the edges as he fought and she dodged. He caught her with an elbow to the diaphragm, and she collapsed in a wheezing, giggling mess. "Of all the people to find me out, it's the quiet doctor who has his own demons inside him." He was impressed at Lillian's attempts to infused her voice with levity, though the fear in her eyes gave her away as she tried to stand and failed. The broken ankle was her own fault, really. Regardless, Richard chuckled with her, his blood rushing in his ears and thrumming in his veins. He tilted his head and the smiling snarl on his face widened, his eyes dancing with amusement. "You misunderstand, dear Lillian. The only thing inside me is.. well, me." Lillian's eyes betrayed her confusion even as her false smirk widened. "What, the good doctor doesn't have a reason for the way he is? No traumatic backstory?" He shrugged jovially. "Well, there was that, but you must understand. Nothing happened to me, Lillian. I happened." His grin turned positively feral at that moment. "And soon, I suppose we can say I happened to you, too." Lillian almost comically lost her composure after that, and her eyes darted behind him. He paused, briefly, as he registered another presence rounding the corner and sighed. He darted towards her, and in one smooth movement, picked her up and slammed her against the wall. He had all the documents he needed to show the others she had been plotting Jack's death for months, and had the extra benefit of his 'waking dreams' to solidify the claims. This was just the icing on the cake. The extra footsteps rounded the corner, and Lillian in a last-ditch effort to save her own miserable life, cried, "Nononono, Ričardas, please, don't do this, you're better than th-" Her shout was cut off by the dull thud of a knife moving up through her rib cage. He let her fall to the ground, and quickly shifted his body language and expression to the one he wore when 'sleepwalking', drooping like a puppet with his strings cut. ''Throughout that part of his dream, his body mirrored what he relived, going so far as to pull out his knife from it's hidden compartment. He froze in that puppet-like position, breathing slow and even as the dream continued on, though he was no longer entirely aware of it. A familiar buzzing sensation filled his veins as his mind darted between the dream and the state of half-wakefulness that told him something was wrong. His metal eye flashed across the room as his good eye moved beneath a closed eyelid. Something was wrong, out of the norm from when he usually dreamed, and he couldn't remember what. Decipherer:  Elias sat in blissful unawareness as the time passed, frequently exchanging one book for another out of simple boredom and disinterest. He had no cause of alarm until the musical drumming of Richard's fingers stopped, and he looked back towards the man with alarm. Every instinct pleaded to wake Richard up, but he could step in if he began to have a nightmare, couldn't he? Elias thought to let the man be. Richard needed rest. More time passed, and Eliad grew increasingly bored. He took to taking notes on the room after awhile, the most minor features of a smirk twitching upon his lips. Such a brief peace disappeared at the sobs and the partially foreign words. His eyes widened, as the speech gave off a strange and familiar message, but he promptly dismissed it as parts of the dream. This broke the gap between the crying and Elias actually stepping in, though, as he soon stands, laying a hand firmly on Richard's shoulder and shaking him, mumbling, "Richard, my friend, it's a nightmare."

Tairais:  His impressionistic train of thought, muddy as it was on the line between nightmare and reality, came crashing to a halt with the sudden startling weight of a hand both terrifyingly alien and confusingly familiar in his state of mind. Relying on instincts he thought he hadn't used in years, his eyes snapped open as he whipped around, reality distorted once again by his past as Lillian rose from the ground to fight again. He snarled, the low sound rumbling in his chest as he pushed her (him? Something wasn't right, Lillian looked different) against the nearest wall, muscles and metal rippling with a strength easily hidden by the loose clothes he wore. Bracing his left arm against her throat, he raised the knife and pressed it into her cheek, marveling at the blood that welled up from the cut, glistening like liquid ruby in the soft light (where was the light coming from? they had fought at night, didn't they?). Richard chuckled quiet and dangerously, all the energy in his body ready to snap. "It would have been much easier if you had died when I killed you the first time, yes? Your heart would still be intact." (This wasn't right, this wasn't how it had gone- or had it? Which memories had he hidden away?) His voice was terse and quivering slightly, his eyes danced with a sinister light that was far unlike the man he preferred to play, but was this not who he was? The story was wrong, the picture out of focus, and even as he looked there was something familiar about the scene before him, something more recent. Yet Lillian stood smirking before him, and they were there against the bunkhouse, were they not? Perhaps Lillian's manipulation had worked against him after all. The thought steeled his determination with a glint in his eyes. He would not turn away so easily. Decipherer:  Elias' eyes fluttered at the low growl, only briefly considering beforehand that perhaps this might go awry. He was hardly anticipating the shove, though, and is sent to the wall with little struggle. He only flinched away from the knife until it connected with his cheek, sending his eyes wide. It was clear now that Richard wasn't meaning to do this, was he? The words shouldn't have hurt like they did, even when Elias sensed they were not for him. The man remained silent for but a moment as he contemplated the situation. It had been... years, yes, years, he paused to mentally confirm the thought with himself, since he's had to scrape himself out from a fight. Such base instincts he had employed had been long since crammed into a farther corner of his mind. A new thought, now: Richard's arms were metal, he himself a blacksmith -- it was evident he'd be significantly stronger than Elias, made valid by the current situation. An addition: he didn't think himself capable of hurting Richard - who looked tense, ready to snap - and trying would only make this go from bad to worse. A cheek cut could be mended; other wounds, perhaps not so. Elias rather gingerly pushes Richard, his expression a deep scowl. He had his heart set on neither parties receiving more injuries than they have to (this was extended to emotions, and he knew Richard was all too vulnerable, and even this much could have horrible effect). His voice is unwavering, low, "Richard, stop. You've got to wake up - it's me, Elias." Tairais:  Richard growled low in the back of his throat as his vision flickered. Confusion entered his eyes as Lillian was replaced by a man he had never met before, but he shook his head and allowed his cold, crackling rage. His vision settled as he stared, though there were still shadows and angles that were out of place, colors that didn't belong. He ignored them and growled at the one who was causing this chaos, and had been for weeks. "Cease your games, Lillian. You were caught from the start." He flicked his wrist and made another line on her cheek, parallel to the first. He wasn't sure if it would scar, though he realized it would hardly matter. She would be dead in minutes at the most. He smiled as if he had just remembered a hidden joke and tilted his head, the knife resting just under her chin. "What did you gain from befriending me, hm? You planned on destroying us all one way or another, so what, dare I ask, was the benefit to twisting the knife?" He paused, then chuckled. "The metaphorical one, of course." Despite his steely exterior, Richard found himself.. not necessarily panicking, but he certainly wasn't calm. The feeling of wrongnesscombined with vision that flickered between the unknown and the known but out place had him deeply unsettled. Had he been drugged? It wouldn't have been the first time, but even then it still didn't account for the details, small things he had trained himself to notice. The feeling of having lost time, the sensation of reading from a script, the world distorted from lack of sleep, and a name that brought forth warmth and concern. The world around him seemed to wait with bated breath, if only he could remember... whatever it was that left this hollow feeling in his chest. Decipherer:  Elias drew in a deep, hissing breath at the second slice. An unfamiliar fear mangled his stomach; why was he so terrified? He'd gotten out of worse. He was a survivor, that was clear -- but this was his friend. This was wrong, his mind countered. Richard was going to kill him if he didn't escape, that much was evident, but how was he going to be fast enough to escape him? He raises his leg up, ramming it to knee him in the groin with a breathed, "Richard, I'm sorry," quickly squirming out of his grasp regardless of reaction. Tairais:  It was a testament to his self control that Richard didn't instantly double over at the blow and instead managed to throw out his arm to graze Lillian's side as she wriggled away. Though it wasn't very deep, it was likely going to bleed a fair bit, and the thought made his lips curl into a smirk. At least she'd leave a trail. The room- since when were they in a room? He paused for a moment and frowned, gaze sweeping around an oddly familiar living space, minus the drops of blood that now glittered on the floor. He had seen this before, but where? ... It didn't matter. The room spun for a moment as not-Lillian flickered into view and darted across the room. Though Lillian herself quickly returned, the thought once again occurred to him that something wasn't entirely right. Not that it mattered; The tension was broken, and he was going to fight. Energy rippled off him like waves of lightning as he moved towards Lillian with a lethal, fluid grace, knife clenched in what would have been a bone-white grip. Lillian would not be allowed to carry out her plans, he would not allow it. He owed Jack, Elise, and Martha that much.

Decipherer:  Adrenaline kicked in within Elias' system, though he couldn't stop himself from the wail and curses that escaped him. A hand held against the wound, he backed up quickly, his gaze fixed on Richard. He half-blindly reaches around, his hand resting and retrieving an umbrella from one of the vases. He holds it much in the manner one would a sword, though unfortunately one-handed. "Richard, snap out of it!"

Tairais:  Lunging forward as he closed the last few steps between him and E- Lillian, Richard knocked the umbrella aside with a snarl. "A-after all you've done? All the grief you caused them w-while they did not care to see, in order to think the b-best of you? Hardly. You will die for the cruelties you have committed." Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong, and while his subconscious knew, he himself was struggling to figure it out. Lillian vanished from view for the space of one racing heartbeat, and a feeling of trepidation followed the flicker of something more familiar. Confusion, anxiety, panic, and rage mixed in the same way watercolors do when left in the rain, causing Richard to act purely on instinct: He snarled and punched Lillian in the face, connecting with the cheek he hadn't already marked. He had closed his eyes at some point, though he wasn't entirely sure when, and upon this realization, snapped them open to prepare for Lillian's countera- It wasn't Lillian. For a moment, time seemed suspended on a thread as he quickly took in the marks on Elias' face, his elevated breathing, the wound on his side- ''oh gods, what had he done?'' The feeling of his heart plummeting into his chest accompanied the sounds of his ragged breath hitching and the clatter of his knife as he lost his grip. He stared and tried to speak, words failing him as his voice croaked. "E-.. Elias? I.. I.." He staggered back a few steps, staring at his hands, and fell to his knees. There were tears in his still-functional eye, wide with horror and confusion. Horror over what he had done and confusion from the effects of his rude awakening and the fact that the smell of blood was oddly enticing despite all common sense. His thought process reduced itself to impressions and fragments of memories after that, hollow gaze fixed on hands decorated with blood that wasn't his. It was all eerily familiar, more so than it had any right to be, given the age of the memories that fueled his dreams. Decipherer:  Elias' stare follows Richard with absolute horror as the umbrella is knocked from his grasp. He seems to flinch away at the words, yet he still moves backwards, much like the demeanor of a helpless animal. He was - finally - considering crying out for Artemis' help. He didn't think that he would hear it, naturally, but someone had to, right? -- He staggers back at the unexpected punch with a loud cry, and his free hand - the one the umbrella had formerly occupied - moved to clutch his cheek, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he leaned against the door. He watched as Richard staggered to a knee, and when the danger had finally left, the adrenaline had followed, leaving him to finally notice a side that ached with the need for attention and the burning marks on his face.

Tairais:  A handful of long, tense moments passed in silence as Richard fought to hold back tears. His body felt like it was floating, his mind not much better off as logical thought warred with a blissful emptiness in a way that felt similar too screaming at someone standing on the outside of a fishbowl made of soundproof glass. He needed to focus. He could think about emotion, or the lack thereof later, when Elias was bandaged and hopefully did what was good for him and cut off all contact with him. He tried not to let his grief at this thought show. Forcing himself to stand, he darted across the room to where he kept the rag-tag assortment of medical supplies he had on hand and brought it to Elias, shifting nervously on his feet. He opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it, holding the set of bandages and a brown bottled labelled 'disinfectant' in faded script as a sort of offering. He felt his hands shaking and desperately hoped Elias would be able to manage on his own. He wasn't sure if he could trust himself, not so soon. ''Why had he let him stay?'' That was a rhetorical question: he knew why, and for all the good his selfishness may have done, the effects spoke for themselves. If it were possible to die of self-hatred or guilt, Richard would have died on the spot.

Decipherer:  Elias' gaze shifts from Richard to the medical supplies numerous times before he actually takes the offered materials. He didn't have it in him to feel the anger he should have felt, or any of the emotions that logically followed. He was just tired. He takes all of the items in one arm and moves to leave the room, but he couldn't help himself from lingering in the doorway for slightly longer. He knew that after he left Richard wouldn't be alright, but there wasn't much that he could do besides leave. He'd be back later on, he decided. He offers a hasty, "We are going to talk about this later, Richard," before leaving the doorway and turning down the hall to return to his own room.

Tairais:  Richard nodded numbly, feeling but not acknowledging the surge of sickening anticipation that followed Elias' words. He remained standing until he could no longer hear his retreating footsteps, then slowly sank to the ground. The echos of the past few minutes played on loop as he analyzed each emotion and thought, desperately trying to understand himself. How had he allowed himself to fall asleep so easily? Why had it taken him so long to realize his true surroundings? Was Elias going to forgive him? He shouldn't, he thought bitterly, he was well within his right not to. More importantly, why, oh why did some small traitorous part mourn stopping his assault? Why did his hands still twitch with the desire to tear Elias' chest open, to find and witness the beating heart beneath? ''What was wrong with him? ''He buried his face in his hands and let his mind drown itself in waves of bitter accusations, angry shouts, and shaky, malicious whispers. The hand that had held the knife would leave a bloody handprint on his face when he finally moved for whatever reason. The thought both amused him and twisted the knife of guilt lodged in his stomach. He felt hollow. He didn't even try to resist the memory of Benediktas' death. The two events were similar enough: he had failed those he tried to protect from his past so many times. Wasn't the definition of insanity attempting something the same way repeatedly and expecting a different result? He felt he deserved whatever further cruelties he received at this point.

Obtained From
Things That Go Bump in the Night