betterthanaplan | The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, very VERY early Thursday morning (Reply)

Duke was having a very rough night, his second in a row. Nightmares weren't unusual for him, but having them every time he closed his eyes was new. He kept having dreams about his childhood, of freezing in an unheated house in the Maine winter, his stomach cramping so hard from hunger the thought of actually eating just made him feel worse. He tried to distract himself with the good memories instead: the nights the McShaws invited him for dinner. Curling up with Octavia under warm covers on a cold night. Sharing a bed with Nathan, the night after their high school graduation.

But Geoff McShaw was dead. And Nathan hated him. And even his love for Octavia could get complicated.

So when his mind finally managed something resembling a good dream -- him and Nathan and Octavia, all together in an enormous bed -- it very quickly turned bad again.

Duke laughed as Nathan rolled him over, tossing him down on his back and straddling his hips. "You want it on top today, huh?"

Nathan wasn't laughing back, though. His face was flushed, his eyes red, like they'd been when that trouble had made him crazy. And his hands were sliding up Duke's chest, fastening around his throat.

Behind him, Octavia's eyes were wide and wet and wild as blood began to drip down over her chin. . . .

[for the one in the bed with him. Mmmm, BDE CONTENT WARNING: violence and gore]