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Surviving in Shadows [Saria & CharlotteV]

C

CharlotteV

Guest
Once, the world was a beautiful place, filled with cities and towns, forests and oceans. People were happy, social beings, who spent their days trying to make everything better. And then the magic came.

It started slowly, at first. A generation of children who seemed...gifted beyond explanation. Dreams that became reality, unspoken thoughts answered aloud, things that were lost suddenly found.

Greed swept across the nation like a wildfire, sweeping up the gifted and using them for personal gain. To win the lottery, catch a cheating partner in action, rob a bank...and then it got worse.

Generation after generation and the gifts only grew, so much so that someone dared utter the word​
magic . Power became a thing sought after without fear of the consequences. Those who didn't have it wanted it, and those who had it wanted more.

The world erupted. As those with gifts gained more knowledge their care for those who didn't lessened, and in a matter of decades the nonmagical race was almost completely wiped out.

Now this is what remains. The world broke. There is no governing faction, no laws, no safety. Towns have been abandoned, forests burned down, oceans used up. The cities that are still standing are run by those driven mad with the power they contain, the settlements miles away filled with humans to weak to complain. And then, hidden in the mountains and amongst what's left of trees, are those trying to control it...completely on their own. ​
 
Maxwell

His heart was beating so fast he could hear it in his ears. Surely that wasn't normal. Was he dehydrated? Probably. Someone told him one time the most important thing was to stay hydrated. Lot's of water. Always lots of water.

Now was obviously not the time to be thinking about that.

Max cursed under his breath as he heard the sound of scuffling in the leaves, tore his eyes upwards. Trees. Trees were wonderful. Provided cover and threw off scents. Magical, magical beings, trees. Granted, magical was also half the reason he was in this shit to begin with.

The teenager threw a look over his shoulder, ran his dirty hands through his bright blonde hair, then made his decision. He climbed. It wasn't that hard grabbing onto a branch and throwing his body up, but he didn't want to take any chances so he kept going. One branch after the other, until he was so high up looking down actually made him a little dizzy.

He stopped finally, dropping his legs over a thick branch, letting himself wonder for a moment if he would die from this height. Probably. Most definitely. Would anyone even find him? How deep into the woods had he run? "Why is this my life?" the boy muttered to himself, then his breath caught in his throat.

Two men cleared the path he had just crossed, huge, black dogs at their feet, controlled by leashes wrapped around their hands. The dogs had their noses buried in dead leaves, sniffing like their lives depended on it, circling the spot he'd lingered in, up the tree once or twice. Fuck, fuck.

"Think he went up?" one man grunted.

There was a moment of silence before both men threw their heads back, making shields over their eyes with their hands to block out the evening sun. Max leaned back as far as he dared, closed his eyes tight. You're invisible, you're invisible, you're invisible.

If he believed it hard enough, it'd be true.
 
Lucas shifted on his feet and glanced towards the forest. Late. His brother had a tendency to be late, but... he had a bad feeling. The back of his neck itched and he rubbed at it. It always itched when there was trouble, and trouble seemed to find them more often than not lately. He glanced towards the rundown town they'd come across, fingers straying to the dagger at his hip. Maybe they'd gotten a little too greedy, but... it was hard not to take what they needed when they had the chance.

He slipped away from the relative safety of outskirts of town, heading to where he knew his brother was. It wasn't magic, but an intuition he'd had since they were toddlers. His brother was a glimmer of golden thread in the darkness that was their world, one of the only things that kept him sane. Even if he did seem to attract trouble like flies to garbage.

The sound of crunching leaves had him slowing, tugging the threadbare cloak tighter around him and lower over his head. He heard the dogs before he saw them and the men they were with, lifting his eyes up and up until he caught the shimmer of air hiding his brother from view. He breathed a soft sigh of relief, turning his attention back to the dogs, curling his fingers around the hilt of his dagger even as he stared at the beasts, willing them to find a scent that would lead them away. Animals were strange creatures, though he'd always had an affinity for them. Wild animals always turned docile around him without him even trying to calm them.

"C'mon," he grumbled, narrowing dark green eyes and leaning against the tree shielding him. "Get lost..."
 
His heart was going to actually pound out of his chest. Max curled his fingers into the bark under him so hard blood drew against his blunt nails, but he had to stay focused. Because if he didn't...you're invisible. Invisible, invisible, invisible. Please...please, please be invisible...

Lucas was going to kill him. How late was he this time? Late enough his brother would finally give up on waiting for him? The day was coming, Max was sure of it. He was also sure that if it didn't he'd eventually piss the boy off enough he'd sign his own undoubtably creative death wish.

Why. Why was this his life.

One of the dogs whined and Max dared to open his eyes, watching the twin black shapes circle around each other a couple of times before they pulled against the ropes around their necks, leading their owners North. The men took a moment, still gazing upwards, before they decided to trust animal instincts over their own.

Max let out a gust of breath before he dropped against the branch he was sitting on, counting himself damned lucky. And that's when he felt it. A bit of a...pull.

Max had never quite been as aware of Lucas as his brother was him, but he still knew when the other boy was close. While Lucas could find Max just about anywhere like he was following a well known trail, Max could pinpoint him in a crowd within seconds. So an empty forest? No problem.

He slid out of the tree easily, branch by branch, finger tips to toes, before jumping down to the ground. His hands were bleeding lightly, but he'd by far had worse.

Light green eyes searched the trees until he found the one covering Lucas, and he snorted as he wiped his hands on his warn pants. "Creeper," he muttered.
 
Lucas let out a slow breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding though he didn't breathe easy until the men and dogs were out of sight. He straightened and looked back to the tree, stepping towards it as Max came into proper view. His eyes flicked to his brother's hands, noting the blood, though scratches caused by tree bark was minor. Sometimes he wondered how either of them were still alive or decent, if street rats and thieves could be considered decent. The world was fucked up enough, he wasn't sure how to tell anymore. After their mother died... he'd been convinced there was no good in the world anymore, outside of his brother, despite how much of a pain he was.

He stared at Max a moment to make sure he was still...Max. The stories and warnings of what could happen to those of them with powers was a constant worry. Maybe one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be him anymore, or Max wouldn't be Max. The comment had his lips twitching in relief and he reached a hand out to muss Max's hair. He didn't bother asking what happened. So long as they both survived, it didn't matter.

"Shit stain," he muttered back. He reached into his pack for some of the pilfered food, handing over a roll and some dried meat. "Think it's safe enough to sleep in this town tonight?" he asked, tearing off a piece of his own roll to eat.
 
Max pretended he didn't feel the way Lucas stared at him. They both did it...you had to. You had to make sure the people you knew stayed themselves. Because one day you could wake up looking at a stranger...and that was terrifying. Life was terrifying.

He also ignored the buzzing he felt under his pulse, the way his fingertips were warm, the way touching magic always felt...the way he wanted more

Max was good at ignoring.

It was his best skill.

He curled his lips up in distaste when Lucas ruffled his hair, pretended that he hated it even though they both knew he didn't.

"Boy's got jokes," he mumbled in response to the insult, but he couldn't keep his lips from tilting into a smile. Then there's a roll and meat being passed to him and Max moaned out loud, unashamed. "I love food. Damn, I love food."

Alright, life was looking better.

"Think it's safer to sleep in the trees," he snorted, but the town hadn't seemed too bad. Max leaned against a tree, sighing as he bit through his roll. "There's a two story house on Greenpark road. Right on the outskirts. Good place if we need to run. Think we can stay there. It looked nice and abandoned when I went through it."
 
Lucas dropped his pack to the ground and settled beside it, leaning back against the tree and glancing around to make sure no other trackers were after them. "You love food cause you're a pig," he said, though even he could tell the insult lacked its usual spark of inspiration. He'd been feeling it a few days now, or was it a week? The strain of always being on the move, running from trackers or what passed as the authority in the towns they pilfered, searching for someone, anyone, who might be able to help them, though they both knew there wasn't anyone. If there was a way to control these powers, to stay themselves, surely they'd have found the answer by now.

He was...tired, though it went past physical exhaustion to a soul-deep weariness that was starting to take its toll. No matter how much they fought it, their powers were growing, and he recognized the look on Max's face as he fought against the urge to...surrender. He felt it, too sometimes, the gnawing ache and promise of power, though he wasn't ready to sell out his mind or soul for it. Not yet anyway.

"Let's look at the house then. Maybe it has running water." It was a long shot, but there was little harm to come from hoping for something that simple.
 
"Hey, guilty as charged," Max admitted, but even the humor in his voice was lacking. He was tired suddenly, which made sense, hell knew how long he'd been running of adrenaline alone. He sighed as he fell silent, dropping his head back and focusing on eating.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten an actual meal, but he didn't even care. Bread was wonderful. Meat was great. No complaints.

"Oh, water." Max pushes himself off the tree and jogs across a few paces, squaring and pulling his pack out of an overgrowth of leaves. Digging through the first pocket he pulls out two bottles, filled crystal clear.

"Here," he says, handing it over when he makes it back to Lucas. "Wanna go before the sun sets?"
 
Lucas watched his brother to make sure he ate. Food had been hard to come by the past few weeks but he always made sure Max got enough even if he had to do without himself.

He took the bottle, eating the last bite of his own bread as he admired how clean the water looked. Looks could be deceiving, especially with water, but it smelled fine. Tasted better. He closed his eyes as he drained half the bottle in long gulps. It helped quench his thirst and eased his hunger pains, if only a little.

"Sure," he replied, swiping his arm across his chin and tossing the bottle into his own pack before standing. He glanced around again just to make sure no one else had snuck up on them. They could never be too careful. "Alright shrimp. Lead the way to this abandoned palace."
 
Max rolled his eyes, muttered a quick shut up, but pulled his pack on over his shoulders anyway. He finished off the last of his bread before leading the way through the thick coverage of trees, unscrewing the top on his bottle of water and taking a sip. He forced himself to keep taking drinks as they walked, because dehydration was honestly a fear.

It wasn't a far walk back to the town, but Max goes slow just in case. There was an odd time in the world between the sun being up and being down, a sort of in-between when different creatures were at play. Just as the clear the woods though, Max is pointing to the large house they can see from where they're standing. "There it is," he mentions before making sure the coast is clear and jogging down to the road.

The town they'd stumbled across was a small one, almost completely empty, which wasn't odd every once and awhile. This late it literally looked like a ghost town...cars still left abandoned on the road, doors wide open; baby strollers on the sidewalks, backpacks dropped in yards. It'd probably been years since anyone had actually lived here rather than just passing through.

The lock on the front door had been broken by someone before them, so Max shoulders his way inside. The first floor was a complete wreck, furnature turned upside down, closets emptied, kitchen completely cleared out. But whoever had worked it over hadn't checked upstairs, which was where Max had stuck gold.

He nods with his head as he leads the way. "Beds still put together up here. Clothes and shit in the drawers, didn't wanna grab too much earlier. Found the water in a minifridge. Didn't test the electricity or anything."
 
Lucas followed his brother and tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. Even if it happened nearly every day at dusk, it was still as unnerving as ever. He kept his eyes open as they walked, taking note of bags and packs that likely had items they could use, but they'd have to wait until morning. Getting inside and settled before the sun fully set was a priority, at least when they had the luxury of putting walls between them and the world.

Once inside, he found a chair to wedge against the door and checked the windows and back door, making sure nothing could get in without breaking in. At least if they were human.

When he was satisfied they were as secure as they could be, he joined Max upstairs, testing the beds and checking for vermin. "Not bad." He set his pack down and moved to the window, peeking out before tugging the curtains closed. "Any candles or flashlights?" he asked, finding the bathroom and testing the water. The faucet sputtered, spitting out rusted water a few moments before sputtering again and dying out. Not surprising, but entirely disappointing. They could have done with a bath.

He was reaching to turn it back off when it spat out water again and then ran clear. He laughed in relief and quickly shut it off before it could waste whatever water was left. "Max! Come get a bath." He pushed open the curtains on the bathtub and started to fill it, not even daring to hope for the electricity to work enough for there to be hot water.
 
Max dropped his pack on the floor in the main bedroom, throwing open the closet door and looking through the clothes he'd seen earlier. They were a little dusty, but not bad enough to complain. He pulled at a few pair of pants, checking the sizes, but everything was too big for him. Especially these days. Shirts though were good. He grabbed a plain black one, shook it out a little, and tossed it over his shoulder before kicking the door shut behind him.

Lucas asked for candles or flashlights or something and Max nodded before twisting around and going across the hallway. He'd seen candles in what had probably once been an art room. The candles themselves weren't fancy, probably used for portraits or something, but there was a candelabra in a cabinet. Something that was probably pricey but Max didn't care, just flipped open the doors and pulled it out. He had a good handful by the time he was going back.

He can hear the water sputtering when he drops his collection on a dresser set, shakes his head a little in disappointment as the pipes struggle to work. A moment later though he hears what is undoubtedly the sound of running water and he can't help himself from grinning. "Yeah, yeah, hang on, I found candles!" No lighters though.

Max taps his fingers on the wood for a second, considering. He hadn't seen matches the first time he'd gone through the house...they were too valuable to leave behind. His eyes stray to where his fingers are, and he glances at them for a second before looking up at the candle in front of him.

That familiar tingling sensation comes back before he even consciously makes the decision, and he raises his hand for a moment before snapping his fingers. The flame flickers for a second, unsure, then strengthens enough to burn strong. He smiles a little, leaves the others alone for now, and takes that one candle to the bathroom.

He toes his sneakers off by the door, pulls his socks off after, then drags his shirt over his head. "Lie to me and say it's hot?"
 
Lucas watched the water fill the tub, hoping hard enough it would be hot he started to feel the power building inside him. The water was steaming before he got it under control, rubbing at the back of his neck and standing as Max entered. His eyes flicked to the flame, somehow knowing how it'd been lit. They were slipping, both of them, and he could only hope when they reached the bottom of the pit they'd still be them.

"It's hot. Don't burn yourself." He smirked and mussed Max's hair on his way out, leaving his brother to enjoy the hot water. It was a precious commodity that wouldn't last. "Though the only shampoo I saw smells like flowers," he added over his shoulder. It was a small price to pay for being clean, but Max was still young enough to possibly throw a fit.

He went clothes hunting and found some jeans that were all but new. They were a size too big, but a belt fixed that, and a black sweatshirt completed his new outfit. Winter would be sinking its fangs in soon, they'd need warm clothes. Clean boxers and socks were in another drawer and he tossed some into the bathroom in case his dear brother had 'forgotten' to get some clean ones.

He set his own clothes in a pile at the foot of the bed and moved back to the window, keeping watch for anyone or anything as the sun finished its descent and true night fell over the town.
 
Max stuck his tongue out at his brothers words, slapping halfheartedly at the hand that ruffled his hair when his brother left. He drooped his pants, stepped out of his boxers, and then slid into the water that actually was hot enough it startled his system for a moment. He sighed as he sank down, low enough water cascaded over his face, and then he held his breath as long as he could.

He knew how it got hot, just like he was sure Lucas knew how he'd lit that candle, but it was another one of those many things Max ignored. He refused to admit they were slipping...because he didn't want to believe it himself. Admitting it meant they would eventually have to talk about it and...

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, scratching at his scalp, working out knots and mud and what might be blood before sitting up again, taking in a few breaths of fresh air. The shampoo indeed smelt like flowers, which caused him to scrunch his nose up and glare as he lathered up and worked it through his hair. "Fucking flowers," he muttered. "Guy clothes, sure. Soap? Too much to ask for."

He used a little extra to run over his body too, spending especially for his hands. The cuts scattered across his palms weren't bad enough to warrant using up any of their first aid supplies, but still, any cut could get infected. And it would be way too ironic to die from something like that.

He drained the water when he was done, mostly because it was disgusting, and dug through the bathroom for towels. He only found a couple that were hand sized, but beggars couldn't be choosers, so he patted down and ran it over his hair before grabbing the boxers his brother threw in the room. They're a little too big, so he folded down the waist once or twice, then threw on the shirt he found which was actually really soft. And damn, did it feel good to be clean.

"Smell like a fucking pansy," he muttered when he walked out of the room, jeans thrown over his shoulder, clean socks and shoes in hand. "Switch? I'll keep watch."
 
Lucas propped his head against the window, fighting the urge to close his eyes, but eventually he gave in. He dozed, dreaming of a shadowy landscape. Then he heard Max and was awake again, turning to face the other male and raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh look. There is a familiar face under all that grime."

He pushed away from the window and stretched with a soft groan. He desperately wanted a hot bath, though he wasn't about to risk using the powers again for himself. "Sounds good. Don't grow a vagina while I'm gone," he added with a smirk, grabbing the clean clothes on his way to the bathroom.

The water was bitter cold and he used as little as possible to wet his hair and skin before scrubbing at the buildup of dirt and grime. No chance to relax and enjoy getting clean, but at least there was a soft bed waiting for him.

He was shivering by the time he finished, patting himself dry as much as possible and pulling on his clothes. The jeans were loose and he didn't bother with a belt, leaving them unbuttoned so they'd be comfortable to sleep in at least. The sweatshirt was warm and he smoothed his hand over it, raking his fingers through his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom. He yawned and headed straight to the bed, flopping onto it and squirming until he was face down with his face buried in the pillows. "Can both sleep," he said, voice muffled. "We're safer here than in the open."
 
Max flipped his brother off twice before the older male disappeared in the bathroom, though one with decidedly more passion. Once his brother was gone he picked up another candle, snapped his fingers and watched it light. Convinced himself two little flames wasn't too much...

He used that one to light a couple more, just enough to give the room a little bit of light in case they did have to get up and run in the middle of the night. Then he drifted through the house, double checking things he hadn't seen his first time through, because he'd left in such a hurry. He looks through the windows each time he passes, makes sure they're locked. A bird nearly scares the shit out of him, and he refuses to let Lucas ever know that.

He doesn't find much still in the house, but a room at the end of the hall looks like it belonged to a teenage boy, and call it intuition or whatever, but Max was smart enough to check under the mattress. Where, stashed between porn magazines, he found a flashlight. Small, but the batteries worked, and really that mattered more than anything else.

He checks the pants there too, just in case, but they're much too small, which meant he was probably dealing with a thirtheen-fourteen year old, go figure. There's a pocket knife in the pocket of one of them; blunt, but still useful. He sighed, a little dejected, before swiping a Batman comic off the nightstand and walking back to the main room just as Lucas was coming out of the shower.

His gaze lingers on his brothers form for a moment, following him to the bed, and Max shakes his head a little as he stores his new found treasures in his bag. "Found a flashlight," he offers. "Small but...light is light." He licked his lips at the mention of sleep, pushed himself back into a standing position.

"I'm fine. You sleep. Not tired." Actually, he was. He was so tired he would probably fall asleep standing eventually. But the nightmares were back. They came and went, the same ones every time, just a little more detailed. He hated them. He'd rather be tired than willingly dream.
 
Lucas tilted his head to breathe easier and watched Max, narrowing his eyes and reaching out to snag the back of his brother's shirt before he could get away. "Bullshit," he muttered. "You're as exhausted as I am." He frowned and tightened his fingers in Max's shirt. Neither of them had been sleeping well, but there were a few things Max never turned down without reason. One was sleep.

"Nightmares back?" he asked softly. They both got them, though he'd learned to accept his. The shadowed landscapes and dark air of his dreams were always the same, shifting as they traveled. Some part of him knew it wasn't just nightmares or a dream. There was always a light in the distance, always to the east, dimmed and faded, but it was there. He'd been leading them east ever since he'd noticed it, hoping it was some sort of vision or sign and the light was their salvation. Even if it wasn't, at least it gave him some sort of goal. Kept them moving.

He rolled onto his side and tugged at Max, trying to get him to lie down. They both needed rest in a bad way. "Want me to sing?"
 
Max winced the moment Lucas' fingers were in his shirt because he knew that meant he wasn't going anywhere. It was worth a try...but there were very, very few things you could hide from someone that you literally spent every day with. Besides that, Max had never been a very good liar. Especially not when it came to Lucas.

"I'm really not-" he tried again, but Lucas hit the problem head on. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, considering. He knew the nightmares weren't only his problem, Lucas got them too, but Max had a feeling his brother's weren't quite as terrifying as his own were. He considered shaking Lucas off, using teenage snide to snap that he really wasn't tired.

But he was. God was he tired. And he didn't have it in him to fight when Lucas tugged at him. So he toppled down on the bed, folded his arms up under the pillow, and buried his face in it. The cloth smelled musty and old, but he didn't care, it was soft and that was enough. "Yeah."
 
Lucas sighed and fluffed his own pillow, moving it a bit closer to Max's and tugging the covers up to tuck him in. He starting humming softly, a song their mother had always sung when one of them was sick or sad. He didn't remember most of the words, two of the verses were the only things he remembered and he murmured them as he rubbed at Max's back.

In bonds and chains I was quickly tied,
Before the Judge for my life was tried,
I ne'er went robbing for any clothes,
I hate such trifling things as those.

I robbed for gold and silver bright,
For to maintain my heart's delight,
When you hear my death-bell toll,
Pray God for mercy on my soul.

He hardly paid attention to the words, though he'd always wondered if God did exist. If he did, he sure had a sick sense of humor, letting the world fall and break like this. No one cared about two kids with no parents. If... when they died, no one would be there to ring a toll, much less pray for them not to end up in a worse Hell than this one.

He continued humming and rubbing at Max's back until he fell asleep or told him to shut up.
 
There was a part of Max that was always kicking his feet, screaming about how he didn't need to be babied, he wasn't a child, the usual shit. There was also a part of him, though, that relished in being taken care of at least a little bit. Just knowing someone in the big bad mess or a world cared enough to make sure he was warm and fed and had a fucking song to lull him to sleep...

The lyrics were a little twisted. Max had always thought so, even when he was a kid. He'd lay in bed with his thumb stuck in his mouth, side eyeing his mother and asking her "how come?" before she would tell him to hush and go to sleep. He'd never got to ask her why she'd chosen that song...never got to tell her he thought it was fucked up...

Now it meant more to him that it did when he was a child. Lucas didn't know all the words...but Max wasn't going to pretend like he did either. So he closed his eyes, let the rubbing against his back eventually sooth him, and then gave in to the sleep that demanded his presence.

For awhile he was so exhausted he didn't dream. His body simply took the time to reboot, re-energizer, work through the aches and pains running for almost a week had given him. But then they started, always the same, a dull color of red bleeding through the edges of his vision.

He turned in his sleep, curled up a little on himself, tried to ignore it. If he thought of something else, they'd go away, right? But the world was already forming, building up somewhere he couldn't really see, until suddenly he was in the middle of all the shadows, cobblestone bloodstained road under his bare feet.

The thing he hated the most...was Max had nothing to be scared of. Nothing chased him, nothing appeared out of the darkness, there were no people, no animals, just...him. The anxiety of the dream always comes second, the racing of his heart, the sweat that breaks out on the back of his neck, and he can't explain it...can't explain the fear.

In the dream, his arms wrap around himself, chill bumps spreading across his skin, but it isn't cold there. He starts walking, slowly, the air around him so quiet he can hear each time his feet touch stone. The buildings around are distorted...there, but not there, grostique in nature and glaring down at him.

It's quiet...so quiet...so quiet it's wrong.

"Lucas?" his dream self asks, barely a whisper, like he's afraid to speak out loud. His breath wafts in front of him and he shivers for no reason, walks a little faster. It goes on like that forever, just walking, quicker and quicker with each block, on a road that never ends. Until one of the houses is different.

It's always there. Huge, dark, hidden in the shadows like all the others and yet somehow more there...more real. The front door is open, and Max steps inside slowly, follows the well known path to the back yard. He's done this before. Over and over and over. But this time, when he steps out on the grass...there's a boy waiting for him. Can't be older than eight, facing away from him, but even Max can see the fire burning in his hands. Black flames licking up into the sky.

He wakes up screaming.
 
Lucas closed his eyes and his voice trailed off as he sank into his own exhausted sleep. His own dreamscape was there waiting for him as soon as he drifted off. Panic tried to well up inside him, but he fought it back with the ease of practice. It wasn't real. Just a dream. A grey and black landscape full of shadows that shifted with a wind, always blowing east. He stayed where he was, sure if he moved creatures of the veil would lunge at him, rip him to pieces.

He always took a step, eventually, always trying to reach the glimmer of golden light that flickered in the distance.

He didn't get a chance to get that far, the sound of Max screaming shattering the landscape and jerking him awake. "Max?!" He sat up and looked around, scrubbing at his face to fight off the fatigue that held fast. He reached over to grab hold of his brother to make sure he wasn't hurt, his dagger in his hand without him consciously reaching for it as he looked for the source of danger. "What is it?"
 
"I'm fine!" Max said as soon as he remembered how to use words. He placed a hand on his brothers chest, his own still heaving like he hadn't been breathing right for hours. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. Everything's fine." He curses under his breath, pulling his knees up towards his chest, running his fingers through his hair and pulling on the strands at the base of his neck. "Damn it, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm fine."

He should have known better than to scream. Usually he didn't, he just jerked awake, wide eyed and panting. He didn't even know why he had screamed. It wasn't like something in his dream had tried to kill him or anything...like something in the real world probably would. Still, he couldn't manage to shake the wrongness off his shoulders. It settled there like a heavy blanket. Like he hadn't actually been dreaming at all, but been there.

Max sighs, resting his forehead against his raised knees. "Got to the back yard this time," he mutters after a moment. He didn't talk about his dreams often. Just that they were horrible and went a little farther each time. First it had been a road. Then a town. Then a block. Then two. Then a house. Then the porch. Then the front door was opened when it'd once been closed. Foyer, living room, back door...this was the first time he'd gone through.

"Same, stupid, goddamned dream where nothing happens and I wake up feeling like I just ran a marathon." Suddenly angry he kicks his foot out, jumps off the bed and throws that same foot towards the wall for no damned reason. There's the familiar buzz of magic under his fingertips, a tingling sensation that runs down his arms through his veins, but he refuses to let it go. Not now. Not out of anger and fear.
 
Lucas rubbed at his eyes, his body demanding sleep once he realised there was no imminent danger. Just nightmares. He reached out to rest his hand on Max's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He didn't know what to say to make it better. He never did. What could he say? Something told him they weren't just dreams for them. They were the same, always the same. Normal dreams didn't work that way.

He almost asked what Max had seen in the back yard to cause him to wake up screaming like that, but he didn't get a chance, watching as his brother jumped off the bed and kicked the wall. He could feel the magic in his brother and watched him closely. No powers when they were angry. That was his rule. Anger was the quickest way to lose yourself, to let the power take over and take control for good.

"Max." He kept his voice quiet, running his fingers through his hair and shifting to lean back against the wall. "Are you sure nothing happens in the dream? Maybe if you talk about it..." It might lose its power over him.
 
"Nothing ever happens!" Max snaps, and then seems to realize that not only is he yelling, but his voice has more bite to it than it needs. He winces a little, takes a breath and turns his back on his brother, leans against the wall in front of him. He realizes he's sweating only when his forehead touches the cool plaster, breathes for a moment. His fingertips dance across the white paint, and he watches them out of the side of his eyes for a moment. Wondering if they'll leave a scorched trail in their path. But they never do.

No magic when you're angry, Max. No magic. No magic. Control it. Shut it down.

He waits until the tingeing fades, waits until his heart his no longer pounding, waits until his breathing sounds normal again. When he's calmed down he finally sighs, shakes his head a little. "Nothing ever happens," he repeats. "I just walk. Walk and walk and walk. And nothing ever happens. But I feel like...like I can't..."

He doesn't even know. It wasn't like he was running from something. Wasn't like the world was going to swallow him down. In fact, if it wasn't for the anxiety, it was kind of...calming.

Finally he pushes himself off the wall, runs his fingers up through his hair. Part of him wants to pace, kick, scream...the other part wants to curl up next to Lucas and go back to sleep. Remind himself that they're safe, at least for tonight, and missing a moment of rest is stupid. "Go back to sleep," he mutters. "I'm fine."
 
Lucas sighed and let his head fall back against the wall. Having an angry teenager was an annoyance he didn't need right now, especially when it was an irrationally angry teenager. If he hadn't been so tired he might have egged his brother on, said something to give him reason to be angry so he had a chance of calming him down. "At least lie down," he murmured, closing his eyes. He tried to stay awake and make sure his brother really was fine, but there was no immediate danger and making Max talk could wait until he had sleep.

He slumped against the wall as he passed back out and slept like the dead. His dream was waiting, but it was to be expected. He didn't fight it, stood in place like he usually did before walking towards the light. Shadows and darker shapes flicked along the dark trees that lined the path, occasionally one of them straying close enough for him to catch a glimpse of fur or fang or scale.

If he walked long enough he'd see a pair of golden eyes, the thing they belonged to hidden in the shadows. Usually he woke when he saw them and find it was morning, but apparently tonight was a night of new things. The eyes appeared and he stopped, watching as they moved closer, the shape of a wolf forming in the misty shadows. When they parted, he saw the wolf was gleaming white, nearly silver, the fur bright enough to be blinding.

He woke with the howl of the wolf still ringing in his ears, groaning as he moved. "Max..?"
 
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