Work Text:
The knife was warm in her hand. Warm, and familiar. She’d held this knife before. Many times. She’d lived out this scene countless times, killed over and over. And the fact that she knew it was a dream didn’t make it any less real.
The knife didn’t go in as cleanly as she would have thought, as all the thriller novels seemed to say it would. But go in it did, just like all the other times. The blood began to seep around her fingers, and she stumbled back.
But then she looked at the face of the man she had just killed. Only it wasn’t the sunken, haggard face of the Sweetly Slasher, her sister’s killer.
It was Quinn. Her Quinn, the same sweet, nerdy boy who had helped her without hesitation, who played D&D and got excited about chemistry and shared his candy and who seemed to come alive whenever he talked about something he loved.
Except he wasn’t alive anymore. That passionate spark in his eyes had gone out, and he stared sightlessly at the ceiling. A thin line of blood ran from his lips.
She reached for him, horrified, but pulled back when she saw her hands, dripping with blood. His blood. That she had spilled. When she killed him.
He was dead.
She killed him.
She killed him.
She killed him.
-
Lucy sat bolt upright with a noise that was part strangled scream, part whimper. Something fell from around her shoulders, but she payed it no mind, focusing on getting air in and out of her lungs.
“Hey, woah, Lucy! What’s wrong?”
A warm hand touched her arm, and she jerked away from it, tucking her own hands close to her chest to hide the blood (the blood the blood his blood that she had caused to spill to flow to stain everything she ever touched to remind her of what she had done-)
“Hey hey hey, look at me. It was just a dream.”
The warm hands, firmer this time, grabbed her arms again. She looked up into Quinn’s eyes, soft and concerned and alive.
“Quinn?” She asked, just to be sure.
“Uh, yeah. Hi,” he said, as adorably awkward as ever. “So much for our late night study session, you fell asleep almost imme-“
She threw her arms around him, cutting him off as she pulled him to her. It was only a moment before he hesitantly lifted his arms to return the gesture.
“You’re alive,” she muttered into his shoulder.
“Huh?”
“You’re alive,” she repeated, eyes prickling. “But I… I killed you.”
He hugged her tighter, understanding. “No, no you didn’t. You saved me. You saved all of us.”
“I killed you.” She buried her face in his shoulder, feeling her tears soak into his shirt. “I stabbed him but it wasn’t him it was you and then you were dead…”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m very much alive, don’t worry.” He loosened his grip, gently pulling away from her, even as she resisted. “Here, I’ll prove it.”
He took one of her hands in his, lightly placing it on his chest. She could feel the calming thump-thump of his heart, steadily pumping his blood. The blood that wasn’t on her hands anymore, but in his body where it belonged, sustaining the life that she hadn’t ended.
Lucy exhaled, long and deliberate, then leaned forward to rest her forehead on his chest. She couldn’t stop her fingers from curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt, before pushing away and wrapping her arms around herself.
“Sorry. I’m so stupid,” she said. “It was just a dream.”
“Don’t be sorry. Anyone would get nightmares after experiencing what you did.” Quinn looked down at his hands, fidgeting. “I mean, I get them all the time.”
“Yeah?” Glancing down, she noticed his jacket crumpled behind her on the chair. Was that what had fallen from her shoulders? Had he spread it over her after she fell asleep?
“Yeah,” he ducked his head. “Um. It’s a little scary to know that I’ve got a… serial killer hidden inside me somewhere.”
His dark hair slipped from behind his ear to cover his face, hiding the spark of life in his eyes. Lucy gave in to the impulse to tuck it back, her fingers tracing his cheekbone, startling him into meeting her gaze. She smiled.
“I’m pretty sure I got rid of him for you,” she said, cupping his cheek. “Now all that’s left is some dopey nerd.”
He started to smile back. She angled his face closer to hers, hand still on his cheek.
“And that’s just how I like it,” she said, then leaned in and kissed him.
His lips were warm as he kissed her back. Warm and soft and perfectly, completely alive.