Chapter Forty Five

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"won't you go to someone else's dreams? won't you go to someone else's head? haven't you taken enough from me? won't you torture someone else's sleep?"

twenty one pilots\-/

•••

Sonia doesn't go to sleep until she sees Edward sleeping on the cot next to her. She sits in a chair at the side of his bed, combing her still-wet fingers through her short black hair. The hometown doctor had given her access to shower, but she thought it was more because they didn't want her to get blood on the floor. Ed had already had them mop the floor of his mess, and they'd have to throw out the sheets he was on the next morning when he woke up.

'At least,' she thought, feeling the slickness on her fingers, 'it's just water, not blood.'

She couldn't say the same for her friend. He looked like hell. The doctors had taken off his red coat, jacket and shirt to look at the wound easier, but said that since it was closed that they could help him more in the morning. They soaked up most of the leftover blood with a couple of towels and let the chimeras carry him to the spare mattress. He was already asleep, but he seemed more relaxed in an actual bed.

"I should probably sleep," she reasoned quietly to herself, checking her watch. "It's already past midnight."

The alchemist leaned back in the less than comfortable chair and closed her eyes, but every so often, she would open her eyes again to look at the blond. Even in such a state of disarray, she admired him. She had undone his braid when they had put him to bed, so it framed his sleeping face.

He had gotten older in the face, she'd noticed. His features leaned towards manly rather than boyish, what, with his stronger jaw and longer face. He seemed content in his sleep, not riddled with pain or trouble. He was completely at ease. But even his beautifully peaceful visage was not enough to keep the nightmares away when sleep finally took her.

•••

Voices swarmed her head. They talked to her all at once, and she could only decipher so many. Almost transparent figures surrounded her, as if all their shadows were white instead of black. One appeared in front of her face, then transformed. It was a sweet mother of two boys, brown hair in a ponytail on her shoulder.

"Nice to meet you."

It transformed again. A face of a friend, yet much younger. Tin didn't distort his boyish voice as he said, "Nice to meet you, but who are you?"

She looked at her hands, which were callous and rough. When she raised her head up, the figure transformed once more. An ally, one who risked it all, and almost lost it all, too. A mask covered her face. She informed her, "You're not exactly who you think you are."

Sonia recalled the conversation with her foreign friend. She had to find herself. She knew that much. And maybe then, her friend just might not be so foreign.

The transformations kept coming, this time into someone sinister. A sister.

"You know who you are," she said, voice laced with sweetness. But her menacing smile contradicted her tone as she growled, "You're a monster, just like me."

This time, the voice morphed as the person changed. An innocent little girl. She put her hand over her furry companion, and they suddenly fused together.

"She's right. You are a monster. And that's all you'll ever be."

•••

Her horrid dream made her jump in her seat. Sonia fell back into the chair, making one leg of the wood snap. She landed on her butt and she felt tears running down her face. Her entire body trembled as she quickly reassembled the chair with alchemy.

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