abraxaslogs | [closed] that's rough buddy

Who: Alucard and Geralt
WHAT:Aftermath of tunnel sharing and noticing certain comings and goings
WHERE: Dungeon cell
WHEN: The dead middle of the night
NOTES: Some mild CW for canon typical gore and grossness on Alucard's end.

--Ugh.

[The complaint is a whisper as Alucard wakes yet again from a new and shitty nightmare. He's added onto the usual rotation since the time spent in the fucking tunnels, hallucinating the worst things from his brain and that of others. There aren't just impaled corpses, rotting bodies looming over him in their final moments, and those he trusted taking his life and destroying his home. There's all of that plus small children running after their mother (thank you Geralt), upsetting badger shaped mascots (Kay, because that has been sticking with him for a while now), and too many other things for him to process.

All of it has made sleep even more unpleasant. Worse for sharing a small space with two others and not wanting to draw attention to himself.

So far as Alucard can tell though, both of his cellmates are asleep. No reason he can't sit up and at least take a few deep breaths. Not a soul is going to notice.]

Threaded | Flat

[ Alucard is right in some respects. Geralt is asleep. He's also a light sleeper, even with his senses dulled, and the moment he feels a shift in the air and a whispered voice, his eyes crack open. Damn it.

For a few seconds, he debates interrupting. He both is and isn't used to close living quarters. He remembers nights squeezed together with other boys in their barracks -- back when there were still boys, still more living bodies than corpses on the keep's snowy grounds -- and many more nights alone on the Path with not a whisper to disturb him. Hell, he's not certain Alucard even wants to be interrupted. The air between them is tenuous. Geralt is slow to trust on the best days; he imagines Alucard feels the same towards a man who's openly acknowledged he hunts his kind.

Eventually, he sits up, a curse of his own under his breath. He's not unsympathetic. He gets it. But he also has enough damn trouble sleeping as it is. Coupled with his cellmates jerking him out of it when he does manage some shuteye, it's been unhelpful to say the least, and half-awake in the dead of night doesn't put him in the most patient of moods. ]

You need some sheep to count or what?

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