Chapter Text
Darkness fills the hallway, broken only by occasional shadows that stretch across the creaky wooden floors of the apartment. Powder shuffles softly in her slippers, her oversized hoodie hanging loosely off her shoulders. The glass of water in her hand trembles slightly with each step—more from the uneven floorboards than her own nerves.
It is 3:23 a.m., the witching hour for some, but Powder sees it as just another chapter in her nightly routine. She finds it difficult to fall asleep. Tonight, she spent hours crouched over her tattered sketchpad, drawing crazy swirls of colors and images. A robot with spindly arms here, and a half-finished fireworks display there. It is her way of clearing her mind, focusing on the absurd rather than the heavy silence that often pounds against her chest in the small hours.
As she heads back to her room, a sound catches her attention.
She pauses by Isha's door, her brow furrowing as she hears muffled sobs. She looks down the dark hallway to confirm the silence before gently pushing the door open. A modest nightlight fills the small room, producing soft, dancing shadows on the walls. Isha is curled up in a tight ball beneath her cover, trembling as the remnants of her nightmare cling to her.
"Isha?" Powder speaks softly, almost whispering, as she comes inside. She places the glass of water on top of the drawer.
Isha startles, her wide eyes darting toward Powder. She sits up abruptly, her tiny hands shaking as she tries to wipe away the tears. Powder kneels beside her bed, her heart aching at the sight of the young girl's fear.
"It's okay, baby," Powder murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from Isha's damp cheek. Her voice is steady and soothing. She reaches out and places a comforting hand on Isha's shoulder. The little girl relaxes slightly but still won't meet Powder's gaze.
Isha hesitates, slowly raising her hands, signing clumsily through her distress. "Wolf. Big wolf. Chasing me. No one helped me."
Powder's breath hitches. She doesn't need words to understand the depth of Isha's fear. Her hands move swiftly in response. "It's just a bad dream. It's not real. I'm here now."
Isha stares at her adoptive mother, her lip trembling. Powder climbs onto the bed and wraps her arms around Isha, pulling her close. "You're safe," she whispers into Isha's hair. "Nothing's going to hurt you."
For a minute, neither of them moves. Powder's hug is firm but gentle, creating a barrier against the nightmare's lingering shadows. Isha's breathing gradually evens out, her small hands clutching Powder's shirt as if to ground herself in the actuality of her presence. The girl's eyes are red-rimmed, but she appears calmer. Powder grabs a notepad from the bedside table and hands it to her and a pen.
"Draw it for me," she says gently. "Draw the wolf that was chasing you. Let's face it together, okay?"
Isha hesitates and then nods. Her hands travel swiftly across the paper, creating a crude yet haunting figure. A massive wolf with gleaming eyes towers over a tiny figure, its shadow spreading wide and oppressive. The wolf's teeth are bared in a snarl, and the smaller figure, undoubtedly Isha, is running with tears streaming down its cheeks.
Powder feels a chill run down her spine. The image is simple, but it carries an unmistakable weight. She glances at Isha, who watches her nervously, as if afraid of her reaction.
"It looks scary," Powder says, choosing her words carefully. "Is this how the wolf made you feel?"
Isha nods, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her blanket.
"Well," Powder says, her tone brightening as she tries to lighten the mood, "good thing you've got me, right? I can take down any scary wolf. Even the biggest, baddest ones don't stand a chance against me. I'm kind of a big deal, you know."
Isha giggles softly, the sound like a balm to Powder's frayed nerves. She ruffles the girl's hair, a playful grin spreading across her face.
Settling back slightly, Powder gives Isha space to breathe. She offers a lopsided smile, her usual spark of mischief tempered by tender understanding. "Want me to sleep with you?"
Isha nods quickly, her eyes still wide but no longer brimming with tears. Powder tucks her in, smoothing the blanket around her. She settles beside the bed, her back resting against the frame as she takes Isha's hand, holding it lightly in hers.
"Close your eyes," Powder says softly. "I'll be right here. Nothing's going to get you."
Isha hesitates but eventually lets her eyes flutter shut. Powder watches her, her thoughts drifting. Her sketches and sleeplessness no longer matter. All that does is Isha's safety, her peace.
As the minutes pass, Isha's breathing grows slow and steady. Powder stays there, holding her daughter's hand, guarding her from the invisible wolves of the night.