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"Nightmare again?"
It's too dark to see, but Vi knows Powder is standing there, wringing her hands. "No. I saw monsters."
Vi mumbles into her pillow: "the ones with the teeth?"
"And all the eyes."
She squints her eyes open. It can't be any later than 2 AM. Her legs ache from running errands for Vander, and she only has more of it to look forward to in the morning. And how many times has it been this week that Powder has had this same nightmare?
Vi sighs and scoots over, patting the spot next to her-- almost in resignation, but Powder leaps at the prospect of consolation. "S'okay, Pow-pow. They can't get you under the covers."
Powder's old enough to know better, and yet her voice is so small in the midnight air. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's, like…" Her sleep-addled mind searches for a word. "Like a rule or whatever."
Powder slides under the quilt next to her. Her feet are like ice on her shins; Vi yelps, and Powder pulls away with a muttered apology.
The moment stretches on, long, close enough to quiet-- almost enough for Vi to drift back off. There's only the squeaking floorboards and the rats scurrying in the walls and the ever-present ambience of the undercity. Even with all that aside, Powder seems to be listening to something that Vi can't hear, flinching, burrowing deeper under the blanket. Always still dreaming.
"Vi?"
"Mm?"
They've had this discussion before-- Powder talking about these 'monsters', Vi coming up with monsters even scarier than Powder's, and then Powder coming up with more, and then Vi eventually promising to chase them all away when she gets too scared.
Instead, Powder asks: "what if I was a monster?"
It catches her off-guard enough that she opens her eyes. Powder is staring right into them, her own eyes big and blue and scared and full of tears. Vi brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. "You're not. You're my little sister."
"But what if I turned into one?"
"I wouldn't let it happen."
"Really?"
"Really."
She can't hear Powder breathing, she realizes suddenly. Like she's holding her breath. Like she's afraid that if she moves a muscle, Vi won't actually be there at all.
Vi reaches out and pulls Powder close, cold feet be damned. "Breathe. You're alright."
"But what if it did?"
"What if what did?"
"If I became a monster anyway."
"Powder, that--" She sighs. Powder is trembling now and she wishes she could just beat up whatever's scaring her so it would fuck off already. "Monsters aren't real. You're not going to become one."
She must still be half-asleep; just for a moment, an image flashes in her mind of Powder trembling behind her as she raises her fist to punch whatever monster is scaring her, only for the 'monster' to actually be Powder herself. She jostles. Powder's face is wet and sticky in the crook of her neck, and then she's mad at herself for even considering it.
"But I--"
"I mean it. It won't happen. Not so long as I'm here."
Powder opens her mouth again, but no words come out. Instead, she takes a deep breath. Ever since she was really little, rubbing little circles on her back has helped Powder fall asleep. Mom never told her that, but she's found it out through enough trial and error. Fuck, Vi wishes she could ask Mom how to get her to sleep through a night without waking up screaming.
The noose of grief tightens around her neck and she focuses instead on the girl crying in her arms, until Powder's breathing gets slower and heavier until she hears the girl let out a little snore.
If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can't see the flames; if she focuses on the sound of Powder's breath, she can't hear the enforcers stomping. It passes, like it always does; she still has Powder, still has her sister, and she has to take care of her. She holds her like the world might try to drag her away again.
Her sister smells like paint and sweat, and she feels so small even though she's getting bigger every day, and there's blue hair tickling her nose, and she's cold but warming up under the warmth of the quilt and Vi's embrace.
If she focuses hard enough now on those details, she can almost still feel her there. Most mornings in Stillwater, Vi wakes up reaching out wondering where Powder went. And then it hits her again, just as hard every time, stinging worse than the welts the warden beat into her the day before.