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Reggie woke up screaming.
It caught in her sleep-heavy throat and petered out into a wheezing groan. She clawed at her chest and shoulders, feeling she was fine, and as the realisation dawned that she was awake, untouched, safe, she started to sob. Her nightmare lingered, years-old rooms blending with her apartment. She needed to get out of here.
Reggie stumbled out of bed and pawed at her messy desk. She needed, she needed her key. Her key, goddamnit! She shoved stacks of clutter aside and found it, dangerously close to falling off the back of her desk. With bleary, tear-filled eyes she waved it at her bedroom door - years of practice meant she didn’t need to utter a word, not that she could have right then - and fell through the portal to Endless before it finished forming.
She stumbled off the landing platform and onto the sand. The light from a hundred thousand fairy floss stars reflected off her mauve and yellow armour and the blocky 21 on her chest as she got up and ran, and when the beach turned to jungle, she started calling.
“Aili!” Reggie keened for her best friend, as she crashed through the trees. “Aili, where are you?!”
There was no response from the jungle. It was as if the whole island and its denizens could sense her distress, and even the usual welcoming committee had shrunk away in fear.
Reggie found the giant, half-buried vacuum faster than usual, and pounded on the side with her fists. “Hey!” she shouted. “HEY! Please! Please, please open up! Is anyone home!”
A door appeared in the metal, and swung open. “It is four in the morning,” complained a deep, melodious voice. “What in the name of-”
“Aili,” Reggie sobbed, throwing herself into the Witch’s arms, and her fragile composure shattered. “Aili, I can’t, I can’t-”
“What happened to you? Who would do such a thing to you?” The Witch asked, supporting her ex-nemesis’s bodyweight as she clung to her like a lifeline and cried, and cried, and cried. “Reggie?”
“Is - is everything alright ma’am?” came a reedy voice from downstairs.
The Witch scooped Reggie off the ground with four arms and carried her inside. “Put a pot on the stove, Big Deal, we’ll be needing your finest lavender blend tonight.”
“Right away, ma’am!” said Big Deal, who hopped to the kitchen.
The Witch held Reggie close to her chest when the young woman’s crying did not abate. “There, there, you’ll be okay,” she said, a little awkwardly.
The Witch lowered Reggie onto her bed when they made it inside, and Reggie buried her face into the soft-smelling blankets, tuning out the world. The underground home smelled like perfume and a myriad of teas from Big Deal’s collection. The blankets smelled like her, and him, and Reggie hid in it.
A soft, knitted quilt was lowered over her body. A moment later the mattress dipped as the Witch took a place next to Reggie’s head. Reggie shuffled up til her head was on the older woman’s lap, and was met with gentle fingers combing through her hair. No questions were asked, not yet.
A few minutes later, soft footfall approached, and a tray clinked. “Here you go, Reggie,” said Big Deal. Reggie opened her eyes. He’d brought three delicate china teacups, each on its own matching saucer, upon which rested a light purple macaron and brass teaspoon. Reggie sat up just enough to take her cup, with her favourite yellow sunflower print, and inhaled the fragrant steam. The familiar scent soothed her nerves, and with eyes closed, she took a sip. Flavour blossomed across her tongue. He’d even added sugar.
Reggie leant on the Witch and sipped her tea. Big Deal took a seat on a plush stool next to the bed, and sipped his own. The Witch held her by the waist with one arm, and her teacup and saucer with another. They never asked questions when she needed their company, not until she was ready. She had time. Patience. Love, she sometimes thought. A silent agreement.
Comfortable minutes passed as they warmed from the sweet tea, and Reggie nibbled her macaron. They were blueberry flavoured.
“I’m happy to share my space with you, but at least do me the courtesy of telling me why you barged in,” The Witch said, when Reggie’s teacup was precisely three quarters empty.
Reggie exhaled through her nose. “I had a nightmare,” she started.
“Oh, that’s horrible!” said Big Deal, who put down his saucer.
“You were knocked out of orbit and came all this way to interrupt us for a nightmare?” complained the Witch. “It’s unlike you to be thrown off by the banality of a bad dream.”
Big Deal could see Reggie’s discomfort, so he kept the conversation going. “What kind of nightmare was it?”
“I was twelve again.”
“You were Twelve?” he asked.
Reggie fidgeted with her teaspoon. “No. Just twelve.”
The Witch laughed. “Hah! I had a nightmare like that once. High school. Horrible.”
“Not the same…” Reggie muttered.
“Ma’am, I think it would be best if we let her explain,” Big Deal said, sensing the hesitation behind her words.
The Witch grunted an affirmative, and kept stroking Reggie’s shoulder.
It took Reggie a minute to relax. When she finally spoke, her voice shook more than she intended. “It… was about her.”
The room chilled instantly. Her, the denizens understood. A human they don’t talk about. A villain far more evil than anything a child could dream up.
“...I’m so sorry,” the Witch offered.
Reggie buried her face in a smooth red collarbone. Big Deal hopped onto the bed and hugged Reggie from the other side.
Reggie shuddered. “I felt her hands on my body, Aili…”
Red hands tightened around the girl.
“I…” Reggie paused for breath. “I tried to punch her. I tried to kick, and slap her. It didn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop her, her voice, her face, I was, I was powerless.”
White eyes narrowed to thin slits, and only Big Deal could see her teeth sharpen to fangs.
Reggie continued her muffled talking. “A-And the worst part is, that I was having a really nice dream, about Esther and you guys, we were having, this, this tea party, and Brown Roger was there, but then she was there, and you left for some reason, and she got close and got me away, and, and I couldn’t - I just went along with her, and we were alone, and, and,” her voice turned high and keening, and Big Deal purred against Reggie’s back.
“It was only a bad dream,” said the Witch, in an even voice that did not betray her whip-violent rage.
“It felt real,” Reggie whispered in a thin, high voice. “I could see her face. I could smell her.”
“You’re awake, and you’re with us now,” purred Big Deal. The Witch wrapped her arms possessively around Reggie and pulled her impossibly tight against her. He nuzzled his little face into Reggie’s shoulder. “You’re safe here!”
“She will never touch you again,” hissed the Witch. “And if she were to try, I’d find a way off this island to end her myself.”
“Or drag her here and corrupt her!” said Big Deal.
“I would take great pleasure in tormenting her a fraction as much as she has tormented you.”
“This is why I love you guys,” Reggie whispered.
“Neither of us are guys!” said Big Deal, helpfully.
Reggie snickered, and fell silent, savouring the touch, and the warmth of their bodies. “I guess, in a messed up way, I got what I wanted.”
The Witch pushed away and stared incredulously. “You wanted that in the way a charming young fawn longs to be mauled by a bear. Explain yourself at once.”
“I, I mean, I didn’t want to grow up. I hated puberty and high school and the idea of being an adult. And part of me is still twelve, hurt and confused. It makes me sick. And part of me is still fourteen, and sixteen, and I still have these nightmares, even though it’s been years, I still remember her face and her soft voice and her stupid smile, and it doesn’t matter how much blunt force trauma I inflict in my dreams cause it doesn’t affect her and she always gets what she wants.”
The Witch abruptly got to her feet and strode into the kitchen.
“Reggie,” Big Deal started, and she turned to face him. He fussed over the knitted blanket around her shoulders, pulling it closer. “It wasn’t right that that happened to you, and coincidences are never going to justify it. I’m sorry it’s still hurting you after all this time. Even if it takes a really long time for it to stop hurting, we’ll still be here for you.”
“If four a.m. can be avoided in future, that would be preferable,” called the Witch as she cooked a crushed fang and purple scale in a saucepan, “but if it is unavoidable, we will have your company.”
Reggie huffed a laugh. “Thanks, Aili.”
“Don’t mention it,” said the Witch, dryly, and dropped a lock of hair into the brew.
Big Deal was satisfied with the secureness of the knitted blanket, and sat back on the bed. “You’re brave, and strong, and you kicked our butts all the time when you were a kid! You’re not a kid any more, but you’re still that strong! Maybe it’s hard to see right now but it’s true! You don’t horrify me any more, but you still kind of terrify me, in a good way.”
“Gettin’ a Big Deal pep talk,” Reggie chuffed.
“You deserve one!” he said, with a smile full of sunshine.
The Witch stood in front of Reggie and held out a little tin in the palm of her hand. “Here.”
“Oh, what’s this do?” Reggie said, and opened it. It was a fragrant, mauve balm that smelled of lavender. Faint swirls of green meandered throughout, as if she’d included a portion of her lipstick.
“Rub a little on your face at night and it should stop the nightmares,” explained the Witch, though she couldn’t make eye contact. “Under the eyes should be most convenient. If nightmares manage to find you anyway, your dream-self will have a sense of strength and agency your sleep-addled brain cannot conjure on its own.”
Reggie replaced the lid and slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll take good care of it.”
The Witch bent down to kiss Reggie’s forehead. “Have a tester,” she said.
Reggie looked up cross eyed, and rubbed her forehead. Her fingers came away covered in balm. “Hey!”
The trademark manic, slasher grin was plastered across the Witch’s face. “Don’t look so afraid, it won’t drop you unconscious! But we were thinking you could stay here for the night, just to be sure it works.”
“We were?” said a confused Big Deal.
“Yes, we were, now get in bed, both of you.”
Reggie snorted in laughter. Some things never changed. She shuffled under the covers, and Big Deal curled up next to her thigh like an oversized cat. The Witch flowed into her dragon form as she crawled on the bed, and curled possessively around the duo as if they were her hoard.
The balm smelled lovely, and Reggie found herself relaxing. “I love you guys,” she mumbled, as sleep finally found her, and her last thought was warmth.
“Goodnight, Reggie,” replied the Witch, when the younger woman was fast asleep, and she, too, closed her eyes.