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It was a surprise to wake up that night to a figure looming over Raven. To see in the darkness of the small bedroom Raven was assigned to, a shadow towering over her, hood seeming to swallow the blackness that surrounded them both. With an arm raised, holding a syringe filled with who knows what kind of pain, Raven had felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach, holding her in place like a weight sinking her to the bottom of the ocean, merciless if she lost her breath.
She was going to be killed by a man she believed she could trust.
It was truly a miracle Venison had been trailed by his mysterious roommate, a girl Raven knew nothing of, but who still chose to save her, dragging Venison away, although he seemed less like Venison and more like some horror Raven would hear stories about as a child. Van had awoken before her, but didn’t have time to intervene, now the both of them trembled with the shocking surprise of their supposed friend attempting murder.
And Raven knew why. Of course she did, she mourns the decisions she made, the choices she elected, and the opinions she voiced over Venison’s. Perhaps she never trusted the changeling or perhaps she hoped it wouldn’t come to this. This fucking job, it truly made her go soft.
Locked in the darkness of terror, frozen on an unfamiliar bed, staring at death in its hooded face, not a scepter but a needle raised for the striking blow, it had dawned on Raven in that moment that she didn’t want to die. She never has. Despite all she’s done, all the people she mourns, Raven wants to live. Death frightens her, the promise of an endless nothing, a mysterious finality, an unknown destination and the lingering effects of that hollow emptiness. Raven desires a life, even if it’s the miserable one she’s been living for the past four years, stranded in urban alleys and cracked streets.
Van could do nothing to guarantee Raven’s safety after that night. No matter how long he stayed up watching that door, barricading it day after day, evening after evening when they assumed it was only the two of them in that bedroom. Raven could no longer sleep. Closing her eyes for more than a second sent alarms blaring through her body, shooting her awake as if jolted by electricity.
After Vension was taken away, Raven didn’t see the changeling for a while, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on guard. Turning corners, she’d have to peak around or send someone else first to scout, ensuring that she wouldn’t be jumped from a blind spot. Upon entering common spaces, Raven would scour the corners and shadows for the man in the dark cloak, but she never saw him. Rarely, she turned her back to others, pressing against walls and sitting in the back when needed. It seemed everything could be a risk to her, a chance for death to take its opportunity and knock her down, never to rise again. She absolutely could not let that happen.
Days of alert, of caution, of the most unbearable patience she could give in waiting for an attack that never came. Eyes grew heavier, the bags under them growing in darkness, as if she was stricken in the face rather than missing sleep. Van was the only person Raven truly talked to, still trusted after the attack. The rest of her group was falling apart, the original Blooms could never be trusted in the first place, and while Van himself seemed to be teetering on the verge of something unfixable, Raven was glued to his side.
The older elf was worried about the blonde. He watched her stay up all night, much to the detriment of his own sleep, staring at the door as if it would somehow open despite the lock and Venison would walk in once again, wielding his syringe. While Van worried about what sent Venison to such extremes, he was more concerned about Raven who swayed on her feet every morning, picked at her food as if it were poisoned, and stared at the corners of rooms like something was haunting them.
Little did Van know that there was. Of course, not truly, but to Raven, the shadows in the corners of rooms wriggled like tendrils, reaching out towards her, ready to grasp at her limbs and pull her away thrashing. When the lights turned off, it seemed the darkness was alive, ready to swallow her whole and drown her screaming in the abyss. Even when she blinked, she feared that that momentary darkness would be enough to extinguish the concept of any future light she would see.
All because Death had come for her in the night.
It was during the day, though, that Raven’s body hit its limit. While toughened from years on the street, surviving despite all odds, staying awake for a week was harsh on anyone. Van saw it and recognized the signs from his own days spent endlessly awake. Despite his own fatigue after looking after Raven, protecting her from unseen threats both day and night, Van was there when Raven’s legs finally gave out beneath her.
Catching her by the arms, Van himself nearly crumpled to the ground as well, but he managed to stand firm, holding Raven’s limp body against him. She let out a small sound, and Van’s heart sank as he looked at her tired eyes, struggling to stay awake, battling the monsters only she could see reaching out, ready to pluck her from Van’s hold.
Slowly, not caring that they were in the middle of a random hallway, Van lowered himself and Raven to the floor, careful not to fold her body awkwardly. Once sitting, Van leaned against the nearest wall, holding Raven against his chest, much like he did to his wife when she first came down with the infection that killed most of the world. But Raven wasn’t dying, just scared of it, of an inevitability that everyone wishes to avoid with their whole heart. And she was seeing it with every exhausted blink she took.
Van cards a gentle hand through Raven’s hair, brushing out the snarls she’s gotten from her restless, sleepless, fear-stricken nights where all she can do is stare at the shadows, paralyzed in terror and the wonder of if the next thing she’ll feel is pain then nothing at all. Not knowing what else to do, Van begins humming a familiar tune, one he hasn’t sung or heard in twenty years since he sang it to his children the day they died. It was a lullaby he sang to them as babies that helped them go to sleep. Castrella taught it to him, and it worked wonders.
Raven looks tiredly at Van with a sense of betrayal in her eyes, but Van sends her a warm, tired smile of his own, hoping to convey that sleep is what is best for her.
“I promise,” Van whispers, breaking the melody, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
Raven searches his green eyes for truth. Among the color of leaves before autumn hits and grass when there isn’t enough rain, Raven sees the wholehearted intent Van encompasses. She knows, has known since who knows when, that Van truly means what he says. He speaks no lies, at least, most of the time.
With a final stubborn struggle, Raven attempts to stay awake, but, resuming the lullaby, Van sends her to sleep. She slumps completely in his arms as her eyes traitorously drift closed, her head lolling onto Van’s shoulder, blonde hair falling down between them. The shadows creep in, but this time, they don’t hurt her. Instead, they swaddle her like a blanket, wrapping around her and keeping her warm and protected, much like the arms around her.
When Van finishes the song, he looks down at the finally slumbering Raven and smiles contently. He has been worried about her since the attack, the attempted murder, the threat of someone close to them. It’s made Van question everything more than he already has been, whirling around his head, increasing the cacophony of confusing thoughts and possible responses that already take up space there in his mind.
Van leans his head back against the wall and sighs. He’s never felt older than he does now when fatigue and exhaustion seem to be embedded in his bones, down to the core of his being where something waits to wake up.
Perhaps the shadows didn’t disappear, they just found a new host.
Van looks around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary and decides to relax slightly, even though his position isn’t the most comfortable.
He intends to keep his promise to Raven, to protect her from whatever threatens her. He doesn’t plan to lose anyone else he cares about. Not again. And he doesn’t care if he has to risk himself to save her.