Work Header

Scenes and Snippets

Chapter Text

September 9th, 2011
The Eclector

He is back at the Temple. He knows this is a dream, yet he can't help but feel the first tingle of unease, of fear. He shudders - it is cold and his vision is strangely blurry. Hesitantly he walks forward, out of the quarters building he still remembers so vividly. Instead of arriving into the hallways, he finds himself outside. He doesn't question it - the ragged walls of the dusty fighting theatre is where he has spent his more horrid times.

His Father waits for him. He, too, was hard to focus on. The Other is more clear to him, standing next to Father. "You are next", the Other says. He feels himself nodding and walks forward once more. His opponent is a man he doesn't know. The man is a towering one, fat and red-faced. His mouth moves, the only thing next to his moustache that he can see - the man is screaming, he realises, and yet he hears no sound.

He knows that the man is not very dangerous. Slow and ill-tempered, the man seems like an easy target. But the tendrils of fear tighten around him, chocking him. His heart beats faster and he can't move when the man comes close enough to hit him. He falls down and feels Fathers disappointed look. Hands are holding him down when he tries to look up. They are pulling and shoving and gripping hard until he is caged into a tiny, dark room.

A woman waits there for him, but he can only see her red hair. But she is light and softness and safety, so much it hurts. He reaches out to touch her, but when he does, it is Azalel sitting in front of him. "Please", his brother begs. "Please let me win, just this one time, Harry?" Azalel cries and begs, and then he starts to fall apart into green light, screaming now with an older voice.

"Traitor! You broke me! Murderer!"

Harry wakes up, shaking and drenched in cold sweat. His breathing is erratic as are his heart beats - he still hears the echo of his brothers' screams, can still feel the fear and anger and pain. The dark corners of the small room he shares with Kraglin are staring at him in accusation. It is not the first time he had woken up from a night terror, but it is the first time in a long while that he had dreamt of his brother and the red-haired lady and it unsettles him deeply. With Kraglin gone for the week, he suddenly feels unsafe, helpless. Vulnerable. With a repressed sob, the young teenager jumps out of his cot and makes for the door.

It doesn't happen too often that Kraglin is away when he wakes up like this. It has taken some time for him to find the right kind of help - the first few times he had been overly anxious and jumpy afterwards, feeling sick and fearful for days. Now he knows where to go, the way to the captains quarters easy to find even in the dimmed light of the corridors. He doesn't hesitate to enter the big room, filled with a sweaty, unclean smell which hasn't bothered Harry for a long time now. The whole ship smells like sweat and oil and too many men who don't like to shower. His naked feet, cold from the metal corridors, touch clothes, trash and a taser on his way to the bed. There Yondu lies, flat on his belly, snoring into a pillow and still dressed in his leather trousers. Above him on a board nailed to the wall are a handful of small trinkets and baubles Harry knows well. He had made them and loves to see them here.

Eager to feel safe again, the teen climbs the bed, uncaring that his moves disturb the sleep of the captain, and wriggles himself as close to Yondu as he can. The man's body heat is higher than Harrys, and up close he smells worse than from a distance, but the boy doesn't mind and puts his cold feet right against the shins of his captain, who wakes up with a grunt.

"Are ye fuckin' kidding me..." He doesn't sound too angry, so Harry ignores the man completely and simply clings closer, leeching off the warmth like a parasite. Yondu seems to think so - he is grumbling about brats and prices for mages and his privacy. It fails to impress Harry, not with the Centaurian throwing an arm around him and shifting into a more comfortable position.

It doesn't take long to fall asleep again. This time, without nightmares.