insomania is good.

[Xaver]

Xaver sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes slid open, ravaged with a misplaced terror and touched with the confusion of dreams. He stared up at the ceiling as his racing heart settled, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings by the moment. He wasn't, as his nightmare had entailed, in some godforsaken prison. There were no bars on the large, curtained window to his left, there wasn't cold cement pressed against his back, and there was no rotting smell.. He was in his own bed, entangled in the soft blankets, his head on a pillow and his wife curled up beside him, a slender hand splayed over his chest and her fingers gently curled in sleep against the contour of the slope of his neck.

He tilted his head slightly, glancing at the inflamed digits the clock read out, and then sighed.

Four o'clock.

It was snowing out, if his senses told him right, and it was winter.. The sun wouldn't be up for hours.
And as Cody, their son, was at Ginny's parent's house for the night as a holiday treat (for holiday treats, Xaver presumed) - there was really no reason for him to be up..

Xaver turned his head and planted a kiss over Ginny's temple, then gently slid away from her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He brought his arms up, tilted his head back, and stretched, the whole of his toned, lean form tensing. Just as suddenly, he dropped his arms and padded out of the room, not needing a light to navigate his way to the door, or out of it. He made to the kitchen, the little dome light over the sink acting like an odd sort of beacon, and drawing him to it. He turned on the water, the cold side, then bowed over and stuck his head under the chilly stream.
Turning the water off, he snatched a towel off the nearby dish rack and mopped it over his head, closing his eyes as he rubbed it over his damp and chilled skull, and leaning his hip against the counter. The marble was cool to the touch, his flesh bare from the waistline up - his figure clad in only a loose pair of dark sweatpants that hung easily and low at his hips.

He turned and pulled the towel down, clenching it in one hand as he leaned foreword on the heels of his palms, staring at his reflection in the moist window.
He supposed he looked like himself.. His raven hair getting long again, tufts standing up at odd angles now after his drying. He'd put back on some muscle mass, and was far healthier than he'd been when he'd first come back. He was still lean, but in a fit manner, and he wasn't skinny anymore.
There was no denying, though, as he stared, the chill that was beginning to seep through his skin, and mold into his very bones..
He was cold.
What was wrong with him?

The dark oceans in his reflection gave no answers, only a sleep-deprived, solemn stare..

[Ginny Weasly]

Cucumbers....in BBQ sauce.
Disgusting...and yet, Ginny was dreaming of it.
The problem with being pregnant, especially as pregnant as Ginny, was that one got strange cravings. And this seemed to be a sudden and very disturbing one.

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she made a face. Cucumbers? What the heck? And BBQ sauce? Ginny didn't even like BBQ sauce! She scowled, reaching out so she could find Xaver and fall back asleep.
Her hands found nothing but air.

The pretty red head sat up, looking about the room with surprise. Where was her husband at? She sighed as she heard the water in the kitchen turn on and slowly climbed out of bed. She felt clumsy, slow. A result of being pregnant as well as waking up so early.
Or late.
Or whatever.

She rubbed the back of her neck, yawning and straightening her over sized long sleeved shirt. The one she loved to sleep in, because it smelled like Xaver.
Because it was his shirt.

Ginny slowly made her way to the kitchen, silently, but she knew Xaver would hear her. Some rustle of clothing, perhaps. She smirked as she toyed with the idea of sneaking up on him, with no clothes.
But he'd probably still hear her, so she gave up the rated R idea.

"Xav? What are you doing?"
She half whispered, and she had no clue why.
Who was she going to wake up?
The dust mites?

"It's four in the morning, babe." She made her way to the table and slowly lowered herself into a chair. She smiled up at her husband, "Can't sleep?"

[Xaver]

Staring more into than out the small, angular window situated snugly over the sink, Xaver remained immobile. It was only when he heard the covers shift in the distance did he finally blink. He simply listened as Ginny approached, silently loving the sound of her muffled footsteps as she made toward him, and the sheer warmth and energy she eminated, even half asleep. His dark gaze followed her through the reflection in the window, watchful and seeing as ever, the blue depths in a mess of turmoil.
She moved into a chair, and he slowly turned, dropping the wet towel in the sink as he did so.

"Not well.."
Xaver caught her smile, and a corner of his mouth quivered, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling slightly as his gaze softened.

He shrugged a shoulder, exasperatedly.
"It's nothing new.."
He brought his hands up and mopped them over his face, rubbing his fingertips over his aching temples.
"Always the same."

Xaver sighed, raking his fingers through the dark, wet locks of his hair, then lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back into the counter, yawning, the finely honed muscles of his arms and bare abdomen bunching and tensing as he flexed, absently stretching.

"Why are you awake, though, honey? I thought you'd take advantage of a lazy day.."

[Ginny Weasly]

"Cucumbers."

Ginny made a face as she said the word, summing up her strange dreams and craving in one word. Now, at least, the BBQ sauce sounded as disgusting as ever now and she felt no craving towards that.
She folded her arms on the table, placing her head on top of them and frowning thoughtfully. She stared at her husband, unashamedly. She was allowed to, the ring on her finger was proof of that.
Besides, watching her husband was one of her favorite pastimes.
She notice something strange though.

"Dearest, why is your head soaking wet?"
She raised one eyebrow at him in question.

Why indeed? Water droplets went from the tips of his hair to his bare shoulders, almost lazily. And Ginny watched them, just as lazily. She was tired, sleepy. Still warm from being under the blankets.
But seeing that water caused her to shiver slightly.
It made her cold.

[Xaver]

"Cucumbers."


Xaver blinked.

A few years prior, he might have simply stared at her, unable to fathom.
He'd come to know Ginny's strange dreams, though - dreams that seemed to be multiplying in the months of her pregnancy. She had the oddest thoughts, the oddest cravings.. It was as fun as it was interesting to try to keep up.
As she pulled a face, he gave a low, bemused chuckle.
She liked, she didn't like..
Ginny's satisfaction satisfied him most of all. And amused him to no end.


"I ran some cold water over my head. It seems to work the best, of all methods, when I want to wake up quicker."
Even rows of white teeth flashed as he grinned, arms dropping as he padded toward her.

"I daresay.."
He planted a kiss over the corner of her mouth as he reached her, tucking a stray lock of brilliant red hair behind her ear.
"Real life is a much better fantasy for me than my dreams."

His amusement sobered slightly, in the honesty of his statement, though the warmth in his tones remained.

[Ginny Weasly]

"I'm glad it's so amusing for you, love."

Ginny's sarcastic comment only slightly covered up her amusement. He made her smile, made her happy. He was the only person that could do that, no matter what was going on. She could be depressed, angry, possibly even suicidal, and Xaver would be able to make her smile.
It was frustrating, but she loved it.

"So you know of my dreams. What of yours?"
She had caught his expression. And it worried her.
More nightmares?

It was something that ailed both of them. They'd seen far too many horrors to be able to sort through them consciously. So they did so sub consciously. But these nightmares were not the nightmares of normal people. They held things unimaginable for most.

And Xaver's were, more than naught, worse than her's.

[Xaver]

Xaver sighed, slowly, and turned out a chair beside her, dropping into it and leaning back, settling his weight into the wooden seat. He draped his elbows over the arm rests, and entwined his fingers over the naked expanse of his abdomen, slouching slightly as his mouth pursed, his dark orbs both thoughtful, and haunted.
The ghosts of his past always seemed to be the demons of his present..
Where were the angels of his future?

"My dreams hunger, but not in the same manner as yours, I suppose.."
They fed on him.
Gnawed constantly on the sanctity of what was left of his soul.

"I don't think they're dreams, though. But memories."

Which was far scarier, altogether.

[Ginny Weasly]

"So what did you remember this time?"

Ginny was curious. His memories gave her answers that she had prayed for during the three years Xaver had been gone. And each time he told her one, she placed it in her own memories, trying to piece together where he had bee for those years when she had literally been sick with missing him.

She picked her head up, along with the rest of her body and made her way to the cupboard, puling out two mugs. She was so much like her mother, it irked her. But she couldn't help it. She had grow u drinking tea whenever something slightly upsetting was being discussed.

[Xaver]

Xaver was quiet as she rose and fetched mugs out of the cupboard, his gaze following her even as his thoughts mulled over details that were far too real...

"It was dark. Grimy. Cold.."

His brow furrowed as his gaze bored into the floor at his feet, staring, but not really seeing - seeing things that he'd already witnessed.. And was seeing again, but as if for the first time...
It was difficult, remembering things, that you hadn't been able to remember..
Things he should have known.
In a sense, he did know.. But his mind had shut them out so effectively, they were reachable, only through his dreams..

"Very quiet. No sound, other than wind, rain.. Water, dripping down through a small, barred window."

His low tones flattened out.

"A prison."

[Ginny Weasly]

"A prison?"

Ginny leaned against the counter while the water heated up and frowned at him. Why...?

"Why were you in a prison?" She didn't expect him to know why, but was rather questioning because it might stir something up in that mind of his. The tea kettle whistled lowly, and she turned, making the tea automatically while her mind slowly began to wake up and think.

"What else do you remember?"

[Xaver]

"Mmm. A prision.."
His return was as measured as his gaze, that adjusted and settled on his folded hands.

He didn't know why he'd been to what his memories shuddered at being a hell on earth. But did he ever? He only ever had slight insights, and they were vague at best. He had enough to make only assumptions - he never had any concrete facts, or details.
He only had memories that stole his breath, thundered in his heart, and stirred him from deep sleep.

The kettle whistled loudly and Xaver's entire form flinched. Frowning down at hands that were instinctually clenched, he drew out a sigh and rose, turning, and beginning to pace.


"The rest doesn't matter."
It didn't help, anyway.
Xaver blinked, furiously. He didn't want to see those images again.
"It doesn't connect anything."

[Ginny Weasly]

"Mmm."

Ginny didn't agree, but she let the matter drop. He was too agitated to continue the discussion further. She picked up his tea and left where she stood, going to stand in front of him and stop his annoying pacing.

"Sit down and drink this."
And order, it sounded like. Ginny was bossy, always had been and always would be. But with Xaver, it was merely words. They meant little, and if he chose to not do as she said, it wouldn't matter.
She shoved the mug into his hand and went back to the counter for her own before reseating herself at the table and turning to watch him.

Silently, she wondered how they had managed to become so lucky. Both of them had lived, and in Xaver's case still live, dangerous lives. They were wanted dead, wanted harmed. They were wanted to be miserable.
Yet somehow, in the midst of all the horrors of their lives, they had met each  other and made each other happy. It was like a fairy tale.

Which scared Ginny.

She knew fairy tales weren't real.