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Seol lays silently in bed, breath slow and even as her brain conjures up peaceful dreams to entertain her in her sleep. The fan blows down cool air and the blanket covers her lower body. She grips the pillow gently as if it’s the stuffed animal from her childhood. The rain and low rumble of thunder keeps her in such a state. The weather always helps her sleep easier. Total silence gives her too much anxiety about the night.
In an instant, it all stops.
The fan slows to a stop and the rain fades into the night. It’s as if a spell has been casted in Seol’s room to deafen the sounds of the outside world. She doesn't notice it as she is still deep in a dream, completely oblivious to the demon with purplish-red skin, large curled horns on its head, blazing red eyes, and a wild white mane standing at the foot of the idol’s bed, watching in silence. This demon isn’t stalking its prey, rather observing to see if the woman will wake up on her own. When all she does is roll onto her stomach that is when the demon decides there is no point in waiting.
It clambers onto the bed, the frame groaning in protest and the mattress sinking like stepping in sand with the extra weight. The demon crawls on its hands and knees since it’s hard to crawl on its hooved feet, sharp nails snagging on the fluffy blanket every now and again. It crawls up Seol’s body, trapping her between the arms and legs of the demon.
It rocks back on its hind legs, observing the idol much closer now. She’s beautiful when she sleeps. The demon brings a hand close to the woman's face, brushing away the black strands of hair that’s fallen over her face. A sharp nail nicks the woman’s cheek, leaving behind a tiny sliver of blood. The prick of pain on Seol’s cheek wakes her. At first her eyes flutter open and the brain fog hasn’t worn off yet. She questions why her room is so quiet until a low base-like bellow catches her attention.
In a flash, Seol goes from fog brain to awake and alert. Seeing a giant shadow does that to a person after all.
“Gods,” She flips over to face the intruder, heart racing, fingers filling with ice as she readys herself to attack. A rough hand meets her wrist and pins her down. Seol twists for a second and panics until her eyes settle on piercing red ones above her. “Oh…” her heart slows as she sits up, knowing why the demon is here. “Again.”
It nods. No groans or gruffs. No snapping of the jaws or raking of claws. Only a weak, shameful nod, like a dog giving its owner the puppy eye treatment when caught.
“Oh, Illyana.” Seol says softly, hands resting on the shoulders and slowly traveling up the neck and cheeks. “How bad this time?”
The demon doesn’t answer, only leans into the soft touch of her girlfriend, desperate for her cool touch. For months Illyana’s nightmares have worsened due to the warped exposure of magic that Strange and Wanda have been using to stitch the time stream back together. The plan is working but at the expense of a handful of heroes; Illyana being one of them. It’s been so bad that the couple have to sleep in different rooms because of how violent Illyana’s transformations into the Darkchild have been; her nightmare triggering the event.
Clearly it’s bad enough for her to transform into her darker half. It’s a forceful one. The Darkchild is a sort of defensive response whenever Illyana feels under serious threat or pressure. The demon half of her means well, truely, but it doesn’t excuse how much it hurts the blonde mutant.
“Bad… it hurts.” The demon answers, voice distorted and painful.
Seol’s hands move away from the demon’s face, down to her shoulders. The white shirt the blonde wore to bed has been torn up, not to the point of tatters like the Hulk, but it’s clearly seen better days. “Where?”
Illyana takes the idol’s hand and guides it down to her thigh where something wet and warm covers the muscles. Seol already knows what it is. Blood. In the midst of her transformation, the woman accidentally cut herself with her nails.
“Baby…” Seol speaks barely above a whisper. Her fingertips formed cool, healing ice, and pressing them against the cut. The demon groans, gripping the wrist of the hand that rests on her thigh. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, aegi.”
The icicles on the idol’s fingers crawl down the tips and onto the torn skin, rolling over the torn flesh. The gash isn’t deep but it is long, spanning four inches across the side of the thigh. The ice travels down the wound, slowly stitching it back up. A soft gurgle of relief escapes the demon’s throat. She lets go of the wrist and thumbs over the wound, blood still stains her thigh, but the gash is closed.
Illyana crawls off the woman and sits on the side of the bed. The fan is spinning again and the sound of rain floods the room. Seol pushes the blanket off of her lower body and climbs out of bed, passing the demon as she does so. Seol enters the bathroom to wash her fingers of the blood and grabs a hand towel to wash up the sealed wound. She comes back to see Illyana staring off into the dark, being swallowed up by her thoughts. Seol knows she has a bad habit of thinking deeply about her dreams, her nightmares too. How they linger and fester inside of her. She snaps the demon back to reality when the wet cloth glides across the wound wiping the blood away.
“See. All better.” Seol says with a gentle smile.
The demon runs her palm over the wound, closed and clean now. She gruffs and gets up from the bed, making her way out the door. Seol watches silently as the last bit of tail disappears into the hallway, something egging her on to follow. After a moment’s hesitation, she tosses the cloth in the laundry basket and follows the demon. Hooves clop against the wood as the Darkchild heads down the hallway to the stairs. Seol pitter patters after her.
Down the steps the two, passing the kitchen and going right into the living room. The idol watches as Illyana takes a seat on the couch and goes completely still, as she turned to stone right as she touched the couch. This has happened a few times where she just needed time and space to herself to think. Seol doesn’t like leaving her alone since she’s caught the demon taking an unhealthy amount of sleeping meds, trying to numb the pain of it all. That night was particularly a mess. Illyana tried explaining that it wasn’t for anything but to help her sleep, but Seol knows the struggles the woman has been going through. She keeps a close eye on her, especially ones like these.
The demon rests her head against the cushions with her eyes closed, heaving out a big sigh. Seol wonders what is going on in that head of hers. Illyana has never been one to open up easily. It’s rare when she says something is wrong and rarer to get her to talk about it. So all Seol can do is be there for the woman and let her open up on her own. Forcing a flower to open too early kills it faster after all.
Seol slowly wraps around the couch, eyeing the demon cautiously. It’s not like she’ll spring out and attack but it’s best not to startle her. She walks on the tips of her toes and rolls them down the heels of her feet. She walks until she’s within arms length of the demon. She looks peaceful laying there even in her demon form. She takes another step and the wood creeks, snapping the demon out of her quiet moment. The piercing red eyes easily find Seol’s mismatched brown and blue eyes. There’s no tense or fear, only the worry that Seol feels for Illyana at the moment.
The idol closes the distance and sits next to the demon on the couch. Thigh against thigh and shoulder… against arm since Illyana is much taller in her demon form.
They say nothing. There’s nothing to be said after all. They sit in the silence, quietly comforting and contemplating what to do to make the situation better.
The weight on the couch shifts as the demon form shrinks down to the blonde mutant. No words are exchanged as Seol grabs the blonde’s hand and holds gently, warmly. Illyana sighs, a single tear drop rolling down her face that Seol catches from the glint of lightning flashing in the window. She wipes the tear away with a thumb.
“Illyana.” Seol speaks the name with such care, as if it’s sacred to her. The blonde looks over at the idol. “We’re going to be okay.”
The pop star can only guess what’s going through Illyana’s head. Whatever the worry is, it’s destroyed by the simple words the woman spoke.
The cracks in the surface show for the first time weeks as illyana’s body visibly begins to shake, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, dripping down her face now. She heaves in a shaky breath as Seol pulls the woman for a hug. They fall back on the couch, Seol under Illyana with the blonde burying her face into her chest, crying loudly. It’s as if the storm outside has manifested inside Illyana and has broken free finally. Seol can feel the woman’s voice vibrate through her chest, shaking her soul and breaking her heart. All she can do for comfort is run her fingers through the blonde’s mane and hold her tightly. Illyana violently cries, giving herself hardly any room to breathe as she lets out wails of sorrow. Her hands balled into fists, gripping the back of Seol’s shirt as if she’s going to lose the last bit of normalcy in her fucked up life. Seol doesn’t know how long the woman cries for and she doesn’t care. This has been building up for weeks, months almost, and she’ll give Illyana all the time she needs to get out every negative emotion she’s had.
Once the woman has settled into hiccups and soft whimpers, pushing out the last bit of wailing and crying, the rain outside has died down to just sprinkling. The thunder still rumbles and the lightning flashes but it's distant, moving along with the night.
Seol continues to run her hand through the blonde’s hair, now humming a soft tune to ease her down. The shirt she’s wearing has been stained with tears and snot, soaking through it. She’d have to change before getting back in bed.
When everything is still with nothing but soft rhythmic breathing, Seol decides it's time to get back to bed. She gently presses her hands on Illyana’s shoulders, pushing the woman off to get out from under her. The idol then gets off the couch and takes the blonde’s hand. Illyana’s face, red and puffy, cheeks wet and eyes almost as red as her demon form, follows silently.
Seol leads the woman slowly back to the bedroom and sits her down on the bed. Illyana lazily crawls under the sheets and blanket, head hitting the pillow and a heavy sigh escapes her lips. Seol smiles weakly and walks on over to the closet, pulling off her wet shirt and tossing it somewhere distant in the room, she can always pick it up in the morning, and look for a fresh one.
“Seol.” The voice is hoarse and ragged. It’s the first time Seol has heard Illyana’s voice tonight and it's pitiful.
“One second, babe. I’m looking for a shirt.” Seol answers, pulling out an old tour shirt. Good enough. She walks out, slipping on the sleeves before pulling the shirt over her head. Seol crawls into bed and is greeted with warm hands pulling the shirt back off.
Seol’s face scrunches up, reaching for the woman’s wrists, but is quickly met with an answer. “I just need to feel you.” Illyana says softly. “I need to feel grounded tonight.”
The idol doesn’t completely understand what the difference would make whether she wears the shirt or not but she obliges, taking the shirt back off and laying down next to the blonde. Her bare body is quickly met with Illyana’s. She’s taken her shirt off as well, wearing nothing but a bra.
The blonde’s skin is warm to the touch, colliding with the cool skin of Seol’s. It’s been so long since their bodies mixed with each other, creating the perfect temperature under the sheets. She runs her fingers over the warm skin of Illyana’s back, meeting the tiny bumps where scars have formed.
I think I needed this too, Seol thinks, continuing to run her fingers over Illyana’s back. She can feel the woman’s soft breath on her chest and the rise and fall of her lungs under her fingers tips. Illyana has fallen asleep peacefully.
Seol bends down and plants a kiss on top of Illyana’s head of hair and pulls her in closer, falling asleep as they try to enjoy the last hours of the night.