Sleep Baby Sleep

[Persephone Marston]

Persephone jolted upright in her bed and flung off the covers, suddenly wide awake. She blinked fruitlessly in the pitch black of the girls' room--there wasn't even a light from the moon outside. What had woken her? She sat silent for a moment, but neither of her sisters stirred. Had she just been having a dream that she didn't remember? Or maybe someone had dropped something elsewhere in the house? She was just giving up, already curling back under her quilt, when she heard it again--a voice crying out. 

She swung her bare feet over the side of the bed and walked slowly towards the door with her hands extended in front of her so she wouldn't walk into it face first. She had fairly good memory of the house since she'd lived there for a few years now, but she may as well be walking around with her eyes shut right now. She found the door handle, though, and pulled open the door slowly, trying to avoid the telltale creak that would wake Octavia. It was still there, but muffled slightly--no movement from her sisters. She shut the door behind her and turned to face the rest of the hall, waiting for the voice to come again. There! It was Atlas Marston , there was no mistaking it. 

She trailed her hand along the wall until she reached his door. She already knew Atlas had been having nightmares--it was why Castor had changed rooms--but she'd never heard him crying out, herself. She opened the door slowly, and peered into the room. Thankfully, the moon's light did shine in through Atlas's window on this side of the house, and she could make out his shape in the bed, his head tossing back and forth. 

"Atlas...?" she called softly as she approached the bed. "Lassie, wake up. You're only dreaming." She put her hand on his shoulder and shook it gently to free him from whatever his brain was putting him through.

[Atlas Marston]

It wasn't uncommon for Atlas to have a night terror. In fact if he was being honest he received maybe a handful of them in a month. Some times he could just roll over and go back to sleep, and sometimes they were still so vivid and real he just started his work day early. There was a reson he constantly looked like he was in a perpetual state of tired. The war still haunted him even two years later. 

Castor had gotten the smart idea to get his own room, as Atlas would sometimes wake up yelling. The first time he'd had a night terror it seemed everyone in the Marston household had been in their room, and he was pretty sure he'd nearly tried to take Father's head off with a up coming swing. Castor learned  never to wake him, and if he had to, he had to throw a pillow at him. The reason being was for what he was about to do to his baby sister. 

He was reliving that night in the tent. The way he'd been help down, the sharp blade digging into his face... The pain was excruciating, and he was thrashing his head back and forth, but they'd held him down. Atlas had managed to kick one of and then the dream was thrown into the battle field. He was fighting Saelis soldiers, cutting him down with his sword. One grabbed his shoulder, and his hand snatched up suddenly, wrapping his long calloused fingers around that slender throat. His other hand shot up, grabbing their shoulder, before Atlas twisted his body. They weighed practically nothing as he rolled on top of them, digging his knees into their hips, as he stared menacingly down, and then squeezed with his hand, his other one coming wrapping around that throat, and the hatred showed in his blue eyes as his upper lip curled into a snarl. 

[Persephone Marston]

She couldn't breathe. She knew that before she understood why--it had all been a blur once she'd shaken Atlas's shoulder. She had flinched her eyes shut but she forced them open again, and what she saw horrified her. It was Atlas. Or, at least, what should have been Atlas, but his face was so contorted he looked like an entirely different man--or perhaps a snarling animal.

"Atlas," she croaked, "Atlas, let go..."

She scrambled to pull his fingers away but it was useless--he had her in a vice grips and he wasn't going to budge. Panicked, she searched her mind for how you were supposed to wake a sleepwalker. Apparently touching them was not the right idea. She wanted to yell, to tell him it was only her, but she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. How else could she--oh! They were by a wall...

Desperately, she hit her hand flat against the whitewashed wall to make a loud clap, then another, and another. Darkness was creeping on on the sides of her vision, so that would have to work...otherwise neither she or Atlas were going to like the outcome.

[Atlas Marston]

The mind was a scary place. It truly was, with what it could show you. How it could make you see and believe things that weren't actually there. If Persephone hadn't of thought to bang on the wall, allowing a noise that shouldn't have been on the "battlefield" to register in his brain, Atlas very well might have continued to strangle her. His hands were tight around her delicate neck and his eyes were wild. His heart beating rapidly in his chest, and but that persistent slapping of the wall suddenly made him come too. He blinked, not knowing where he was. He looked down, seeing his little sister under him. Struggling for air that he was restricting from entering her lungs. 

With a look of complete horror, Atlas released his hands, reeling away from her. He scrambled so far back, he went right off the end of the bed. "P-P-Persephone?!" He nearly cried out in terror, scrambling to his feet. He made a step towards her, but stopped. All but flinching away from her as the reality of what he'd just done-no could  have done set in. He'd just nearly killed his baby sister. He thought it had been a dream. He thought he'd been dreaming, but- "Oh gods." He whispered as he began to shake, his body trembling as he turned and slowly sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall. He put his hands over his face, feeling them shake against his face as he started to shut down. The realization of what he'd just done was slamming into him repeatedly. You almost killed her. You almost killed her. You almost killed her, was the mantra his mind was forcing him to hear over and over again. 

[Persephone Marston]

Persephone took a great gasp of air into her lungs and nearly choked on it. Oh Gods, she would never take the breath of her lungs for granted again. Instinctively one hand traveled to her throat, which felt raw on the inside, while the other reached out for Atlas, already trying to soothe him. As soon as she’d regained enough air to speak, she was murmuring words of comfort. It was simply in her nature to be more concerned about himself than her--after all, he was far more upset than she.

“Atlas, Atlas, it’s all right,” she promised, crawling toward him and climbing over the end of the bed so that she could approach him. She walked with both hands out, as if she were approaching a skittish colt. As he hit the floor, she sank to her knees too, putting gentle hands on his forearms. “I’m safe, Lassie, and so are you. It’s alright.”

She already knew he would argue, but both of them had inherited that hearty Marston stubbornness. She wouldn’t give up so easily. Let him try to claim whatever he liked, there was no harm done. She would be just fine, and she didn’t blame him in the slightest.

[Atlas Marston]

A skittish colt indeed. Atlas practically flinched away from Perci's approach. Her touch burned him, and the little goblin in his brain was yelling at him that he'd almost killed his baby sister. He didn't deserve her gentle touches. He reached up, taking his her wrist gently in his hands and pushing her away. "Stop!" He didn't yell, but his voice was firm. His breath was labored, and he looked stubbornly at his sister as he tried to get away from her. 

"It's not alright Perc, I just nearly choked the life out of you, j-just" He frantically climbed to his feet, keeping his back to the wall as he moved down it. "Stay back." He told her, holding a hand out to ward her off. He didn't trust himself right now, and her getting into his space was enough to cause him to into a panic attack. "I just- Oh gods," He choked back a sob as he looked away, wrapping his arms around himself as he wedged himself in the corner, bringing his hands up to his face as he began to sob. 

[Persephone Marston]

"Atlas, honey. I'm. Fine." She told him firmly. She sat down against the wall a little ways from him and pulled her knees to her chest, making a little tent out of her nightgown as she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin atop them. She could tell he didn't want her invading his space, but she wasn't about to leave him alone to beat himself up, either.

"I know that scared both of us, but it was my own fault for trying to wake you like that. I should have known better." She sighed. "Please don't be so harsh on yourself, Lassie. You didn't know it was me. You can't blame yourself for something that's out of your control."

She was smart enough to know that what she was saying was easier said than done, but she hoped she could at least make him hear her pleas, even if he couldn't instantly do as she asked. She wanted him to hear that she cared for him, that she was worried, and that she wasn't angry with him. She wanted nothing more than to just pull him into a hug, but she had a feeling that would do more harm than good.

"I know you're upset, but I know you better than that. You'd never hurt me on purpose. I'm not afraid of you. You're my big brother, and I love you."

[Atlas Marston]

A small, bitter laugh came from Atlas as he held his face in his hands. It was certainly out of his control, but still knowing he’d nearly killed his baby sister was terrifying. “Not being in control did that Persephone.” He whispered.

She was trying to make him feel better and it only helped mildly. She should be afraid of him. They should all be afraid of him. The war had changed Atleas, and not for the better. He’d seen and done things that he regretted that now haunted him. Hell, the man had been tortured and he never wanted any of his siblings or family to have to experience such a thing like he did.

He just wanted to farm, and be left alone. Everyone was clearly safer that way. He pulled his hands away from his face, as his eyes turned intently to Persephone. Looking at her sitting across from her, so innocent with her chin on her knees. His brows furrowed in almost anger as he looked at her. “You should be afraid of me.” He whispered harshly. His nerves were shot and he’d only had a dream, but his anger at himself just put him in a mood. “Perc, I’ve done things to people that I’m not proud of.” He whispered. He pointed at the bed where they were before. “There, you weren’t you. You were someone else, and if you hadn’t of made that noise, I would have killed you.” He told her adamantly. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would have too.

And that thought?

That was the thought that terrified him the most.