Work Text:
Hands dig into her hips, holding her tight, holding her down, alternating between familiar hands and bestial, twisted appendages, flickering and clawing and tearing her flesh and it hurts it hurts it burns but she'd take it a thousand times over if the other tearing would stop, if the violation would stop, she's choking and sobbing and all she can see is red red red and there's someone screaming, someone shouting, someone-
"Julia!"
Julia jolts awake with a gasp, flailing away from the hand on her shoulder, hands raising to defend herself before she finally realises where she is.
"Kady?" She says quietly, swallowing hard and glancing around the dark room. "Wh- is everything okay?"
"Yeah. I was just- you were... It seemed really bad this time. I thought it would be better if I woke you up."
"Oh." Her first instinct is to bristle, to tell her to mind her own business, to shut down any implication that Julia might not be totally capable all by herself - but Kady is perched on the bed hesitantly, messy bed hair a soft halo around the silhouette of her head, and though she can't see it properly, she can feel that wounded gaze that so mirrors her own. You wanted me to stop reminding you of what you left me to, you mean, the nasty, bitter voice in her mind spits, but what comes out of her mouth is, "I'm sorry I woke you up."
"I was awake anyway," Kady replies with a shrug, settling properly on the edge of the bed. "You need anything? I can get you a hot drink or...?"
"No. No, I... I just need some rest."
"Okay. Well, I'm not far if you need anything." Kady's crooked smile catches the faint moonlight peeking through the curtains as she stands up, light caressing the soft curve of her cheeks, and Julia's heart catches in a whole new way.
"Actually, I..." she fumbles, unsure what she even wants to say, and Kady just waits, head tilting slightly as she stops and watches her. "I could use some company," she manages finally, quietly. She's not entirely sure why she says that; it's not like they're particularly close, really. They haven't known each other long, and what little time they have has been run through with death and trauma and betrayal.
They share something, though. Yes, they're both got trauma related to the same people and bad experiences, and the painfully good one turned straight painful sickeningly quick. But beyond that, they share an understanding.
It's not anything they're talked about, not explicitly, but for all that's true, she knows with a deep surety that it's there. It's there in the way their eyes catch, in the looks they share when conversation turns to Reynard, in the soft silence that blankets the kitchen while they sit and eat dinner together.
And it's there now, with the way Kady looks at her quietly for a moment before wordlessly settling back onto the bed, stretching out on her side.
"I'm not a very restful sleeper at the moment," she warns, and Julia huffs out a tired laugh.
"We've got that in common, then," she mutters.
Julia is already calming down, the pounding of her heart easing into the usual tightness in her chest, so she lays down as well, untangling herself from the bed covers she'd gotten caught up in in her flailing and spreading them back across the bed. Her fingers brush against Kady's as she passes her the blanket, and the gentle heat of her skin clings to them even after she's safely back on her side of the bed.
She's not ready to risk going to sleep again yet, so she keeps her eyes open, as she finds herself having to do most nights. Usually she focuses on her breathing, picks a spot in the room and narrows in on it, not letting her thoughts run away on her and go places she's not ready for them to go.
Tonight, though, she finds herself studying Kady. She's on her side facing Julia, eyes closed, and looks for all intents and purposes like she's fallen easily into sleep. She wonders if Kady had been lying, when she said Julia hadn't woken her - or maybe she, like her, isn't ready to face unconsciousness again and is simply giving off the appearance of being asleep. She wonders if Kady knows she's watching her, studying her; wonders if she'd want her to. If she'd be flattered or if she'd be weirded out.
One of Kady's hands is curled near her chest, but the other hand grabs Julia's attention; it's up near her head, palm up with fingers slightly curled, and it strikes Julia suddenly that her hand is well within her reach. She could reach out and touch it and she wouldn't even have to change her position.
She doesn't really know why that thought comes to her head, and neither does she know why that idle thought morphs into a compulsion, an urge to feel the warmth of her hand against hers.
She doesn't know why she gives in and reaches hesitantly across the bed, fingers hovering gingerly millimeters above her skin before letting them press feather-light against the middle of Kady's palm. She doesn't know why she slides them up, slotting them between Kady's own, pressing their palms together.
What she does know is that the way Kady's fingers immediately curl so their hands are twined in a loose grip makes something inside her chest relax for the first time in weeks.
Maybe she feels safe enough to sleep after all.