yuuo: (Pandora's Universe)
[personal profile] yuuo posting in [community profile] pandorasuniverse
Character/Series: Edward Elric; Fullmetal Alchemist (2003; Pandora's Universe)
Rating: PG
Notes: Written around the [profile] 30screams theme #16 - "Go back to sleep."
Title: 16 - Go Back To Sleep
Author: [personal profile] yuuo
Word Count: 427
Summary: Something cool against his forehead yanked Edward painfully up from the recesses of REM sleep, and his nerves jangled painfully, misfiring confusing signals that blurred out his vision and his sense of space.




Something cool against his forehead yanked Edward painfully up from the recesses of REM sleep, and his nerves jangled painfully, misfiring confusing signals that blurred out his vision and his sense of space. He jerked back, a shot of electricity jolting up the back of his neck and head and completely blinding him at the movement.

Carefully, he started pulling himself up out of the confused state, bringing awareness of the room back into the forefront.

"Shh, Edward, it's okay."

His mother's voice brought him back into focus a bit more and his vision cleared and he registered the sheets against his skin, the dim blue light from the window of the night sky, the soft sounds of crickets outside.

Trisha smiled as she brushed some of his hair back. "I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered. "You need to sleep. You have a fever."

That explained why he felt so cold under the blankets even though the chill of her hand was welcome against his skin. Her hand felt cool, like the damp cloths she used to rest over his eyes when he was little and feverish. He closed his eyes and turned his head slightly, pressing his face against her hand.

The fever didn't explain the nightmares, though. The red haze over everything as his life rewound itself, tripping back over every demon he'd dodged and avoided for years. Those, those were normal. Those always came back.

Before he knew what he was doing, his arms were reaching for her, desperately craving touch and contact like a drowning man craved air, his six-year-old- eighteen-year-old- dignity be damned. It was a deep-set need he'd deprived and shunned for years,and only allowed indulgence to violently when his walls had been picked at until they bled and a flood of ache he'd dammed up heaved and threatened if nothing helped to prop it up.

He felt the bed shift as she got up and the cool hand on his forehead suddenly disappeared and he whimpered until he registered her weight settling down next to him. He turned and pressed up against her, clinging to his mother, the comforting, familiar, warm scent of her and he couldn't tell if he was a child or an adult, hearing his mother's voice humming past the cottony warmth that settled over his mind and quieted the thoughts and fears that had been beating at his doors.

"Go back to sleep now, Edward," she whispered, petting back his hair.

He didn't argue with her.

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