Haunted by A Nightmare of You (Open)

[William Blake]

Will let out a yawn. This going 48 hours without sleep wasn't being kind to him. Usually, he managed to catch an hour or two out of every 24, but little jobs had kept mounting up, he'd lost track of time, and he unfortunately now looked like he was dying of a fatal disease, the dark rings under his eyes, the pale skin. He was surprised half of his staff hadn't run away screaming. Maybe they were too frightened of what he would do to them if they did, than to actually scarper.

He was laying on a metal rack beneath circuits that ran along the ceiling of the room, fiddling with something there to make sure everything was in working order. He felt his eyes droop, and briefly thought about getting coffee before he began to doze. He drifted in and out of dream, one where he was on the hunt for the nearest source of coffee, one that was supposed to super energise him for hours - he stumbled down the corridor when all of a sudden he came across a man, dressed in a black pin stripe suit, a belt in his hand. Will felt fear grip his body, and he tried to scamper back down the corridor, but he couldn't. Every step he took backwards brought him even closer to the man. Now he was at the man's feet, cowering in fear as the man raised the belt above his head, a look of malice upon his face.

"NO!" Will yelled, jumping awake with wide eyes. He sucked in a few deep breaths, telling himself that it was just a dream, closing his eyes again. "Jesus," he muttered.

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, examining the panels before her. What am I looking for again? she wondered idly. Other thoughts pushed that one aside, such as how sore her eyes were and how comfortable the floor was starting to look. No, wait, focus Natalie, she chastised herself, shaking her head to clear it.

She had no right to be this tired. She'd managed to get in a good nine hours of sleep the night before, and so the fact that she was just about ready to pass out made as much sense as putting a horse in a dress. In an attempt to wake herself up, she pinched her arm hard. All it did was make her arm throb, and her eyes started feeling even heavier. Damn.

Giving up all hopes of keeping her head coherent, she instead resorted to faking it. Falling to her hands and knees she then rolled onto her back and shimmied underneath the panel, staring up at it blankly. Random thoughts began drifting through her head again--such as whether or not anyone would notice if she dozed off for a bit.

Just as she'd decided that she could catch a wink or two a loud yell of "No!" startled her awake and she shot up so fast that with a resounding clunk her head connected with the panel's underside. She cursed violently before rolling out from under the console and looking up at where Will was working on the ceiling wires.

What with being tired and now having a smarting bump on her forehead, Natalie was prepared to give him the worst telling off ever, regardless of whether or not she wasn't supposed to have been sleeping, but then she saw how shaken he looked and confusion and mild concern erased all the fight from her.

"Er... are you okay?" she asked uncertainly.

[William Blake]

Will dragged his hands over his face, his heart still pounding in chest. Hearing a voice made him jump, and he looked over his shoulder to see Natalie staring up at him. "Yeah, yeah, fine," he lied, waving a hand. It wasn't a very convincing lie, the sleep deprivation probably didn't help. "Just a bad dream," he said, with a little more honesty.

Sitting up, he let out a groan, having been lying there for too long, his muscles were stiff. He shuffled to the edge of the rack, holding on with his hands before hopping down, landing on his feet. That woke him up a little. He then looked over at Natalie again, amongst the look of concern, she seemed a little dishevelled, also...

"Um," he gestured towards her forehead, where a red mark was forming, "are you okay?" It looked like it was going to bruise. "Bump your head?" he asked, going to retrieve some ice from the biosynthesiser in the corner (used mostly for early morning coffee breaks). Normally, he wouldn't have been concerned, but he had a feeling it was probably his fault her head was now swelling, and that dream had shattered some of his defences for the moment. He didn't feel up to being a grouchy asshole.

[Natalie Blake]

Will's voice seemed to waver a bit as he told Natalie that he was fine, and when he said it was just a bad dream she frowned a little. Not because that meant she hadn't been the only one dozing off, but because it sounded ever so much like he was lying to her.

He had every right to keep things to himself, and yet she felt the nagging need to know what was wrong. He was her superior, yes, but he was also a person. She was out of it enough to believe that, because of that, maybe he'd open up to her if she just managed to press him the right way.

It was then that Will asked her if she was all right, having noticed the bump on her head. Natalie opened her mouth to respond, but instead closed it again and watched as he went to fetch some ice. She blinked in surprise as he came back and handed it to her. Did the bump really look that bad?

Seeing as she didn't know, she simply thanked him and pressed the ice to her forehead. She grimaced as it stung a little, but it helped numb the pain she'd been ignorant of. Remembering that Will had asked her about her head, she swallowed and gave something that was somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

"I'd been under one of the consoles when I heard you yell and it startled me and... well... I hit my head," she explained lamely. It was quiet for a moment, and she tried to think of something to say. Remembering that he said it had just been a bad dream, she asked, "Why did you yell, exactly?"

[William Blake]

Natalie was probably the most dedicated of his engineering team after him, she put in practically the same amount of hours as him, and although she didn't come from an engineering background, she was good at her job, and reliable, that he could admit. It didn't surprise him that she was here in engineering this late.

"No problem," he said, leaning back against a console, wiping his wet hands on his jeans now that she had a hold of the ice. "Ah," he said as she explained, just as he'd suspected, "I won't make a habit of screaming out inane words in my sleep," he said, "you don't have to worry about it happening again." He pursed his lips, considering saying sorry. It hadn't exactly been his fault but... "Sorry." There, that wasn't too hard.

When she asked him why he'd yelled, he automatically crossed his arms across his chest, looking away from her. That particular dream he'd had was a recurring nightmare of his; he'd never told anyone about it. It seemed stupid, something from his past that he should have been over by now. Natalie's gaze felt like it was penetrating and probing him, urging him to spill.

Reaching up to scratch the back of his head with his hand, he tried not to look embarrassed. "I was having a nightmare," he said, a little gruffly, "one that I've had since I was a kid." Letting his hands drop, he looked at her, "can't shake it, then things like that happen." He referred to him shouting out. Someone injuring themself from his scream was new however.

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie's lips twitched, fighting off a small smile, when Will said sorry and she shrugged in a "no worries" sort of way. She wasn't exactly supposed to have been sleeping anyway, so even if he hadn't meant to, he'd sort of done her a favor. Getting mad at him for that would be pointless.

Curiously she watched as he crossed his arms at her question, turning his head away. He looked almost... chagrined. When he explained that he'd been having a nightmare, she wasn't surprised. But then he told her he'd been having the same nightmare since he was a kid. What could have been so terrible in his childhood that he'd been dreaming about it ever since?

She started suddenly when a droplet of water hit her cheek, and only then did she remember the ice in her hand. Her fingers were starting to go numb with the cold, but she ignored them and leaned against a nearby panel, patting the spot beside her to indicate that Will could sit next to her if he wanted.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

It took Natalie about five seconds to realize that it was her who had spoken, and another two to register what she'd said. It was such a girly thing to ask. Why would Will want to talk about his nightmares and his past or whatever it was with someone he barely knew?

"You don't have to, of course. I just know that sometimes it helps if you don't feel like you're carrying whatever it is all by yourself," she amended quickly, blushing a little. Tactless! she thought reproachfully, tempted to slap her forehead in embarrassment. Hopefully Will wouldn't take offense. He didn't seem to be the type of guy who would, but she could always be wrong.

[William Blake]

Will's first reaction would have been to laugh at her offer, especially when she patted the seat beside her. It felt a bit like his Mom was sitting him down to talk about a bully at school or something to that effect. Then she sounded like a mixture of the shrinks he'd been trying to avoid all his life (it wasn't so easy on this ship, every time he stepped foot in Julia's office, he lied his arse off) and back-pedaling over what she had said in the first place.

His curiosity began to peak. He'd avoided speaking about his past all his life for a number of different reasons, mostly fears, rational and irrational ones. The irrational being what people would do if they found out, which seemed stupid, considering his father, that evil pile of cow dung, was dead. Hung himself in prison. Coward. But, the other fear was that he had a good twenty years of emotion festering around inside, and keeping it in was the only way to stop him from pretty much exploding. But how founded were these fears really? Would he really not be able to cope if he talked about it? Was he being ridiculous?

"I don't know whether you want to hear it," he said, actually considering this now, "it's some pretty heavy stuff." He paused, "I'm not making excuses," he quickly clarified, realising that was what it sounded like, "it's just... people should be given fair warning." He'd never actually told anybody about anything to do with his past before, but he knew how bad it was, and heck, he didn't want to load off on people like that if it was just going to upset them; he did care really.

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie offered Will a mild but warm smile. She'd heard and seen a lot of things that most people wouldn't take well, but all the same she appreciated him giving her the option of walking away if she wanted to. But she wasn't about to leave. If he was willing to open up and talk, maybe it'd be good for him? And if it was, who was she to deprive him of it?

"I'm willing to listen if you're willing to talk," she told him honestly, repositioning the ice on her forehead and patting the spot beside her again, a little more persuasively this time. If it was going to be hard for him to talk about it, it might be better if he were sitting down.

She hoped she wasn't being too forward with him. Beyond the usual small-talk, her conversation skills were zero, and so she wasn't sure what would be right and what would be wrong to say depending on what he told her. Maybe she wouldn't have to say anything? Maybe just telling someone else would help him feel better?

All the same, if he was unsure of sharing with her, she could always share a little back. Not that there'd been much interesting in her life, but surely she could think up something for him to take in in exchange for what he told her? She decided to run the idea passed him.

"If it would make you feel better, I could tell you a bit about myself as well. You know, so you at least sort of know me before you pour your heart out and everything." Natalie smiled again, trying to show him that she just wanted him to be at ease.

[William Blake]

Will didn't know why Natalie was being so nice, or was offering to do this for him. He had a pretty clear idea from a fair amount of the crew of what they thought of him, they either thought he was weird, avoided him, or hid from him. And yet, here Natalie was, smiling at him, and offering to be his shoulder to cry on, not that there would be any crying.

Hesitating a moment, he moved from where he was leant against the console, and took the seat beside her, his hands falling into his lap. This was weird, and awkward... for him anyway. "I'll talk," he nodded, deciding that now, he was going to do this. "You don't have to say or share anything if you don't want, just listen." He hoped this didn't come out a garbled mess.

"I never knew my Mum," he began, figuring starting from the beginning was the best idea, "she died giving birth to me. Which is tragic, I know, because I never got to know her. My father was a UGAP minister in England, very important, but also very... he was damaged by his wife's death, let's say that. And, as far as he could see, I was to blame for that. It was my birth that killed her, not the home birth because he refused to have it any other way, or the poor care she got, or the fact that she was weak in the first place."

"So, not only did I grow up blamed for something that wasn't my fault, every time he got angry, that scumbag decided to take his anger out on me. 'Course I made it worse by acting like an arse at school and whatever, but it was still his decision to lay waste to me with his belt. That was what the dream was by the way, him and his belt," Will shuddered at the thought of his dream.

"College was like a haven to me, I moved heaven and earth to get out of that house, graduating from school as early as possible and practically running from home. The ironic thing is, he did end up in prison, but for fraud, as well as consuming all sorts of substances. And he took his own life, the coward," he shook his head slightly. "You'd think because he was physically gone, I'd be rid of him by now, but oh no, he has to come back in my dreams and haunt me there too. Makes me want to scream."

As he drew to the end of what he wanted to say, he realised that his face was damp. "Oh bollocks," he said, rubbing his eyes, angry at himself for crying. He hadn't looked at Natalie to see what her reaction was.

((Omg, 500 words! Haha, don't worry about your length of post in return, that just took a lot to explain xD))

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie bit her lip as she listened to Will talk about his past. He spoke with bitter regret when he talked of his mother, explaining her accidental death at his birth. Then his tone turned to one of fiery loathing as he spoke of his father, and how he beat him whenever anything went wrong. But under the hatred was fear and pain.

He then turned things onto his escape; running away to college, running away period. It was safety--the first safe place he'd found. And then his father had been arrested, and it was in prison that he'd hung himself. Will told her that he'd thought that that would be the end of it, but it hadn't been. Even though his father was gone, he was still afraid, still having nightmares.

It was obvious to Natalie by the way his words seemed to tumble out that he'd never really told anyone about his past in this much detail to anyone before. The urge to hug him, to rub his back and tell him everything would be okay, washed over her. But lying like that, even just to comfort him, seemed wrong.

To prevent herself from executing the pointless action, she instead went over to the sink and dropped the last of the ice into it, wiping her wet fingers off on her jeans--a bad habit she'd picked up from working in a multitude of garages. Her mind scrambled frantically for something to say, because staying silent seemed like the worst way to react to his tale.

In the end, the best Natalie could manage was, "I'm so sorry, Will." To her surprise her voice was choked, and it was only then that she noticed that not all of the water on her face was from the melted ice. She gave a weak chuckle. "Mother always said that if someone else is upset, the best thing you can do is keep a strong front, and yet here I am, crying away."

[William Blake]

Will felt Natalie move from the spot beside him, and it took him a moment to look towards her, still wiping the tears from his eyes, he couldn't seem to stop them from falling, even though he didn't feel like crying. When he finally looked at her, he saw that she was indeed crying as well. Well, that had definitely been a sob story, one that had set them both off.

"What a pair," he said, coughing a little, continuing to rub his eyes. "Neither of us wanting to cry but..." He hated saying the word cry as well, especially when it was referring to him. Maybe he should get used to it, this flood gate was now being opened, and he had a feeling that things were going to change, if he let them, for once.

Will ran a hand up into his hair, urging the tears to stop, he felt like a cry baby. "Guess this is what happens when you haven't shed a tear in over a decade." That made him sound almost callous, "I'm not usually a weeper," unlike some other men. He cleared his throat, the tears eventually drying up. He looked over at Natalie again. "Thank you for listening." That was the least he could say really, even if it was hard to say it. "Never had that before."

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie hiccuped through another laugh and then quickly scrubbed the tears from her face. "But unable to help ourselves," she finished Will's sentence for him, smiling again as she nodded. "Yup, that about sums it up. God, I must look like such a mess..." She sighed, rubbing her eyes again and running her fingers through her hair to help it look even just an imperceptible amount better.

When he mentioned that he hadn't cried in over a decade, she arched an eyebrow. But when she got right down to thinking about it, she couldn't exactly remember the last time she'd cried. "I don't know about decades, but I think it's been at least a year or so since I last cried..."

She was admittedly more than a little startled when he thanked her for listening, but all the same she smiled at him and went over to lean against the console again. "Of course, Will. Anytime." She then added jokingly, "I'm open 24 hours a day."

There was a slight pause after Will said that he'd "never had that before". "You mean to tell me you've never had anyone to talk to before?" Natalie asked, slightly stunned. He'd just explained that his mother had died during his birthing, and his father had been a bastard right up to his bitter end, but to believe that Will had actually had no one...

"Well... now you've got me, I guess," she told him warmly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Not that it would necessarily work too well, but all the same she could always try.

[William Blake]

"You could never look like a mess," he said absentmindedly, giving her a small smile. ... Had he just flirted? After all that? He wanted to slap himself. Generally, he believed in an appropriate time and place, but that one had slipped out. See, all this crying had turned his brain to mush.

Clearing his throat, he tried to address the other things she'd said. "Guess there really isn't any need to on a ship like this, always being kept busy with work." And whatever work came before that. It was opening yourself up to relationships that hurt, generally, and Will hadn't opened himself up to anyone ever.

"Thanks," he said again, the word getting easier to say each time he said it. Then he chuckled at her attempt at a joke, "sure, sure." He sighed a little, rubbing his hands over his face before looking back at her, "well, I suppose to be fair, I never looked for anyone to talk to before. Male friends aren't exactly great for that sort of thing." The majority of men tried to avoid sharing their feelings, so they pretty much all avoided hearing them too.

Will let out a yawn, covering his mouth his hands, before rubbing his eyes. "What exactly were you doing under the panel anyway?" he asked, not sure how he could have startled her so badly if she'd been awake and working. The ice seemed to have helped the swelling on her head, but he knew from experience that it would. He'd sat with a bag of ice to his face numerous times after fights.

[Natalie Blake]

Natalie bit back a smirk at Will's comment, but said nothing. According to him, the fact that he was opening up in and of itself was a miracle--she didn't want to push him by flirting back, as much as she might want to. She wanting him to trust her, and scaring him off by seeming over-eager wouldn't help. Instead she chose to respond to quip about guys not making good "talk" material.

"I'm pretty sure it's a proven fact that women are more in touch with their emotional sides or whatever," she shrugged, waving a hand airily. Grinning with mild embarrassment she added, "But I suppose I sort of proved that that also means we're more liable to break down into tears on ya."

He yawned then, and due to their contagious natures Natalie couldn't help but yawn as well. She bit her lip at his question, suddenly sheepish. She reached up and scratched the back of her neck, trying to think of what to tell him. Then it occurred to her that, really, since he'd been sleeping too, it would be hypocritical of him to be upset with her.

"Well, to be honest? I was trying to take a nap." She glanced over her should down at the panel, narrowing her eyes at it. She chortled suddenly and shook her head, turning back to Will. "I think I'd been looking for something beforehand, but I seriously couldn't tell you what it was."

[William Blake]

Natalie didn't react to the flirting, which was good. It was bad enough that he'd tried to do so in the first place, if she'd reacted to it, then he didn't know what he would have done. Floundered like a fool probably, or kept going.

Will chuckled a little, "heck, I'll taking the breaking down over a gruff 'hmph', a 'dude, what?' or just a silence filled with the sound of crickets," which was the truth. "With guys, maybe even a tumbleweed would roll past on a silent gust of wind." He could fully acknowledge that men really weren't all about feelings, he wasn't that great at them, if he was honest. He avoided them instead of being an emotional mess.

"I'm pretty sure there's probably somewhere more comfortable to sleep than under the console at," he glanced at his watch and his eyes went wide, "two in the morning. Somewhere with more headroom where deranged men don't scream in their sleep." He scratched his forehead a little. He definitely wasn't going to bust her for it, that would be highly hypocritical. He laughed a little with her, "it doesn't matter, there's so much to do on this ship all the time, it'll come back to you, or you'll discover it anew again tomorrow."

He yawned again, "ugh," he said, unable to stop himself, "it's like playing yawn ping-pong." He looked round at her properly, "you know, you never told me anything about you in return." He said she didn't have to, but he was curious now, and he didn't feel like going back to sleep anytime soon.