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Sunlight softly caresses your face, gently pulling you from sleep. You don't fully awaken, though. You're far too comfortable for that. But as you keep your eyes closed, you allow the world to come into existence around you. Birdsong fills the air. In the distance, you hear the sounds of townsfolk going about their business. A gentle breeze wafts over your face, brushing the loose strands of your hair across it. It's warm.
You bolt upright.
NO. No no no no no you can't not again NOT AGAIN you can't you can't you can't you CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN!!!
You look wildly around yourself, at the pale grass and trees and clearing and-
You're inside.
You're inside you're inside you're inside- Okay.
You're inside. You're in bed. There's a blanket over you. Your family members are in beds on either side of you, sleeping. The windows are open, letting in the sounds of outside, and the breeze. There is no grass. There is no clearing.
You remember now. You and your family have been traveling together, on your way to Bambouche to see Bonnie's sister. You stopped here for the night, but it was hot, and humid, and stuffy, so you all opened the windows to get a breeze in.
You breathe in.
And out.
The loops are over.
You're not trapped.
It doesn’t quite feel real. You don’t quite feel real.
Tears come to your eyes unbidden, and you curl up where you're sat, burying your face into your knees. Stars, why are you crying now? It would have been much more helpful if it was when you were actually trying to cry back in that bathroom. But no, it's happening now and you can't stop it and-
“Sif?”
You freeze. Isabeau shifts beside you. He sits up, looking you over in concern. “Are you okay?”
You wipe the tears away with your sleeve. The words fall from your mouth automatically, before you even have a chance to think about them. “I'm fine.”
Isabeau stares at you, and you cringe internally. You're highly aware of the tear stains on your face. Highly aware of the fact that Isabeau literally saw you. Highly aware of the fact that you're supposed to be trying not to hide things from your family members anymore.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Let's try that again. And this time you don't say the most obvious lie I've ever heard in my life.” His face turns serious again. “Are you okay?”
You look at him, and you open your mouth. But no words come out. Stars, you know he's already figured it, so why is it so hard to just say it? All you'll be doing is confirming what he already knows. There's no risk of anything here.
You look away, and instead say, “Do you really need to ask?”
He takes a moment to think about that, before answering, “No. But also yes. Because it's polite. And you need practice.”
You grumble.
He sighs, and though you can’t see his face, you hear his tone soften. “. . . Was it a nightmare?”
You’re silent, for a long moment. But eventually, you admit, “No.”
“Then . . . what was it?”
You’re silent, but for even longer this time.
You’re trying to work up the courage to tell him, but you take too long. He speaks. “Well . . . Okay. If you don’t want to tell me that, can you at least tell me what you need? Something I can do to help?”
You feel bad, for not being able to say it in time, but you accept the new topic. You have to think about this, too, though. What do you need?
You still don’t quite feel real. How did you deal with that in the loops again? You . . . You tried to get human contact. But it was subtly, when you all were walking through a narrow passage. You cannot do it subtly here.
You also cannot ask for it. You already know this, so you don’t even try. Even just the thought of speaking those words into existence makes you feel like there’s something physical in your throat, blocking them from getting out.
But . . . maybe you don’t have to speak it. Isabeau has no problems with touch. Maybe you could . . .
You copy what Bonnie did that one time, and lean against Isabeau without wrapping your arms around him. You’re still unsure if this counts as a hug or not.
He stills at your touch. Did you do something wrong? Worried, you look up at him, and see him staring down at you, his entire face dark.
You flinch back, horrified. Stupid, Siffrin, stupid. You know he’s in love with you. Your first time being obvious about instigating touch and you immediately ruin it by making things awkward and- “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“No!” he interrupts, catching your hand. Your breath catches in your throat. “You need it, right? That’s why you leaned against me? Don’t worry about me. I- I know you haven’t figured out your own feelings yet, but I don’t care about that right now. Right now I just care about helping my good buddy through his trauma.” He seems to realize he'ss holding your hand, and immediately drops it. “So, um. If you want to lean against me, you can lean against me.”
“Isa . . .”
“Especially because you’re so bad at saying what you need so I’m absolutely not going to ruin this for you when you’re finally actually doing it, you know? So, you know, it’s okay. You can lean against me.”
You sigh. But he’s looking at you so intently now. You hesitate, but, slowly, you start to lean against him again. He leans back.
He’s warm.
You look around yourself as you sit together in silence. You look at the planks of wood that make up the walls. You look at the glass in the windows. You look at the rest of your family, and wonder how they haven’t woken up yet. They always woke so easily when Isabeau whispered to you each night in the loops.
You listen to the birdsong and the sounds of townsfolk outside. You can tell now that they’re different birds than the ones that used to surround you, that the town sounds much busier than Dormont ever did. Of course it does, it’s a much bigger town than Dormont. The breeze brushes against you again, and you can smell on it the scent of freshly baked bread.
You look down at your lap, at the blanket covering your legs. You grasp it in your hand and rub it between your fingers as you lean more heavily into Isabeau.
You breathe in.
And out.
You’re starting to feel a little more real.
“You know, I’m kind of surprised,” Isabeau breaks through the silence. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?”
You give him a weary look. “Where did you hear that?”
He suddenly looks awkward. “Well, I, uh. I didn’t. Hear it. We just kind of . . . noticed, you know? I mean, you always. Like. Jump? Whenever you’re touched?” He stopped, and suddenly looked horrified. “Oh, no, do you not actually hate touch??? Have we been making sure not to touch you when you wanted it this whole time????? I’m so sorry! We were just trying to make sure you didn’t feel bad!”
You can’t help but laugh, though there’s pain in it. Pain from how long you’ve spent in the loops, wondering if they hated you. Wondering why they refused to touch you. Wondering if there was something wrong with you. This whole time, they were trying to make sure you didn’t feel bad? Stars, you really do need to communicate more often.
If only it weren’t so hard.
You lean your head against his shoulder. “I don’t hate touch,” you inform him. “I’m just not . . . used to it.”
“Not . . . used to it?”
You nod. “I don’t know why. It just . . . takes me off guard, I guess. But I’ve been . . . trying to get better at it. Bonnie thinks-” You stop, and press a fist against your eye. “No, no, that was a different loop . . .” Isabeau is still looking at you curiously, so you sigh. “There was a loop where Bonnie asked about it. They decided it’d be best to announce that they’ll touch me before actually touching me. And that was . . . better. It was still weird. Maybe not quite right. But it was better.”
Isabeau hums, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “So announcing it is better, but still weird . . .” He looks back down at you. “What if instead of announcing that we’ll touch you, we just . . . asked first?”
You pause. If they asked first? “. . . Maybe? I don’t think that would stop it from being weird. I don’t think it’ll stop being weird until I get used to it. But . . . maybe.”
Isabeau nods. “I’ll take a maybe.” Then he pauses, before asking, “. . . Can I wrap my arms around you?”
Your face softens. “. . . Sure, Isa.”
He properly hugs you, and, slowly, you hug him back.
It feels.
Warm.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been hugged. Bonnie hugged you before. Your family all hugged you all at once.
You haven’t felt one quite like this before, though. A single person, yet all-encompassing.
It feels.
Nice.
You lean into it.
It still feels weird. You’re still not used to touch like this. But you don’t mind it. You wonder how much of this feeling is because of how much taller Isabeau is than you. Unlike Bonnie, he can hold you very easily all on his own.
It feels.
Safe.
You remain silent with him for a long time, listening to the sounds of the birds, of the townsfolk, of each other’s breathing.
You breathe in.
And out.
You open your mouth to speak.
This time, the words come out.
“Every loop,” you murmur, “started with me waking up.”
Isabeau looks down at you. “Waking up . . . ? Oh! Did you . . . think you were starting a new loop?”
You bury your face into him. And you nod.
“Oh . . .” Though you can’t see it, you can hear the sadness in his voice. One of his hands shifts, and you feel it thread through your hair. Huh. You didn’t know that could feel so nice. He lowers his chin to rest on top of your head, and you feel his breath in your hair as he continues, “We’re here, Sif. We remember. You’re not alone.”
You make a noise, and you fall silent. They are here. They do remember. Not all the loops, no, of course not, but they haven’t forgotten anything since your last one. No new ones have started. Nothing has been reset.
You’re not alone.
You have your family.
The King was defeated. Everyone is free.
You’re okay.
You breathe in.
And out.
And you relax.
You’re okay.
You’re real.
. . .
You drift back to sleep in Isabeau’s arms.