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There were always nightmares. Before Deus her nightmares had been more of shadows and things unseen. Armagnac had quelled those. But their place had been taken by dreams of bodies and monsters, of sand and insects. The things that lurked in the dark were no longer shadows, but actual nightmares, things that were real.

Sleeping over with Jake helped. She found comfort in his presence. But some nights a warm body next to her was not enough to keep such dreams at bay. Some nights her dreams would wake her, usually with just a gasp or a start, and after a terrified moment of finding her bearings she'd snuggle up next to Jake. He'd never complained, though she knew sometimes it woke him.

Some nights the dreams were worse than others.

Sherry rolled over, fitful, concern showing on her face. That might not have been the emotion she was feeling inside the dream- it was hard to tell with such things. To anyone watching, it would have been obvious she was dreaming, and to anyone who was a hunter, obvious that it was a nightmare she was having.

Her hand gripped at the sheet, holding it tight enough to make her knuckles pale. She rolled again, onto her back, whimpering. She looked like she might cry.

In the next moment she was screaming.

And that was a terrible way to wake up.

Her heart was racing, and she it was about all she could hear. Sherry didn't know if she'd stopped screaming or if Jake's reaction had cut it short. It didn't matter.

For a moment she was quiet, her mind racing. She didn't even breathe. She was afraid, the dream had seen to that. And she was pissed. Jake clearly was, too. Was he threatening her? Why? She hadn't done anything.

Armagnac echoed the anger. The wyrm was coiled in the back of her mind. Sherry could feel her on the defensive.

"Get off me." It was little more than a whisper as she glared back at him.

Armagnac was writhing, turning, in the back of her mind. Sherry had the image of a snake slithering about itself, coils sliding over one another.
Defensive, wary, angry.

No. But I admit I'm tempted. She was so very angry. She didn't want to hurt Jake, she didn't want to fight but he looked so angry. And his attack was wholly unprovoked. She might have screamed, sure, but she didn't even know for sure.

Her heart still raced as she met his gaze. "What the ********? I said get off of me. Get off before I make you."

She didn't understand. It was like another nightmare, and as he pressed down on her she gripped his arm, nails pressing against skin. Not enough to draw blood, of course, but she was going for pain.

Her mind tried to make sense of things. She'd woke up and he'd... they'd been here before. They'd done this before. He'd not been himself then, he wasn't now.

That didn't make it better.

Rage oozed in her mind. It really melded well with her own anger, though her own didn't burn quite so hot.

And then Jake was letting up, and Sherry let herself feel relief. For a moment. Because the next moment he was pressing down again, challenging her.

Rage and acid tainted the word.

She could. She could summon Armagnac and defend herself. Part of her wanted to. He deserved it for this. He deserved to bleed. But he bled in her nightmares. He bled and died, and she feared that. She didn't want that. Anything but that. "Please," she whispered.

While one hand pressed nails into his arm, the other rose, fingers reaching out for his cheek. She might have thought about clawing his face, Armagnac might have demanded it, but Sherry didn't. She reached out to touch him lightly.

Short of drawing Armagnac or starting a brawl, there was little else she could do. Even if some part of her wanted vengeance, Sherry believed it tasted better cold. And it was Jake. She didn't...she didn't want to hurt him. She was so confused, so lost.

"Please."

She didn't mean to gasp so loud when he let go, and she sat up and rolled off the bed in one motion, fast as she could.

The only problem was with the change in the situation her fear, for she had been afraid, she realized, faded, and anger rose again. She wanted to hurt him for that. Not physically, not how Armagnac wanted.

And he was just glaring at her, telling her to leave. "As if I'd stay," she said, quietly. The rubbing of her throat was subconscious. She wanted to say more, but she was having a hard time thinking of anything properly hurtful to say. It had to cut deep, whatever she said. In the end, she just shook her head at him, and then left, doing what she could to slam the door behind her.

Her own room wasn't' far. She slammed that door, too, and leaned against it, wiping tears away. So angry. He was going to pay this. For everything. He'd hurt her emotionally, tried to actually hurt her, and why? No reason. None at all. And when she was done with him he was going to be a little shell of nothing. But in her way, not Armagnac's. That was too easy.

As she crossed the room she noticed the smell. Not a foul smell, really. Dammit. There on her dresser, ever single perfume bottle and vial she owned had shattered. And her mirror. She'd completely forgotten about those.

"Stupid!" In one swift motion, everything on top of the dresser ended up on the floor.

Sherry had her own things to take care of. First she had to finish making a true mess of her room. Much of her favotite stuff had already shattered, and she had to clean that up. What harm was a little more mess? It certainly made her feel better. She also had to cry. She was angry, to be sure, but also heartbroken.

That was it, wasn't it? He had made his point very clear. It was her fault for pushing things, she was sure. He had wanted none of it, and instead of just tellng her he'd...

She took off her ring and put it on the dresser. It was the lone object on it, aside from perfume residue. Lonely and rejected, or maybe that was just how she felt.

She sat down on her bed after that, notebook and pen in hand. She had lists to make, things to plan. He was going to pay for this. He would be sorry he made her cry. She started by listing everything wrong with him. Those would be his weak points, best to start there. Trust issues, prone to outbursts of anger, farts in sleep, too chicken to be honest, afraid of sex.....or just doesn't want me, gets hurt too much

She stopped, and then scratched out the page in a fit of anger. Some of those he didn't have control over, and that mad her mad. She turnrd to the next page, determned to list horrible ways to make him suffer. She got as far.as writing minipet duty before she started to cry again. Everthing Armagnac suggested was bloody. But Sherry didn't want that, did she? She wanted him to hurt, the way she hurt. And it hurt so very bad that she cried herself to sleep.

Her dreams were bloody. Nightmares. She made him bleed, or Armagnac did. Sherry enjoyed it, and she hated it. She cried and whimpered while she slept, but she didn't scream.

The dreams faded with the dawn, but Sherry didn't sleep well afterwards.

Sherry didn't feel any better when she woke. Less hellbent on working out the best way to make Jake suffer, sure, but still horrible. On one hand, he'd lost his s**t again and pulled that damn dagger on her. But she'd seen that before, she knew it wasn't... normal. Which led her to the other reason she was feeling very upset: she'd left. Just up an abandoned him. Sure that's what he'd wanted...but what if it wasn't what he'd needed? Not that staying had been the best idea either. They'd both been angry, clearly. She knew she had been. Sitting up, Sherry pulled her notebook closer. So very angry, just look at all her plotting. She wasn't normally so...vindictive.

She should...make sure he was alright. Between spontaneously broken glass and sudden bursts of anger it was a good idea. Sherry suddenly felt sick. Whatever had brought on his anger... it had been her. Maybe she was right, and he'd just...had enough. She'd pushed too far, and he had finally pushed back. He probably didn't want to see her then, if ever. Especially not if he was still angry.

Texting him was probably the best idea. Or it would have been, if she'd had her phone. It wasn't on her nightstand, and she remembered... it was in his room. She'd not grabbed it. Had she been that upset? Yes.

Armagnac rumbled. It was something of a pleasant noise, but it didn't help Sherry feel better. She was just so confused. No longer angry, but still a little afraid. Mostly sick feeling. She doubted he'd want to repair anything... she didn't know if she should try. She was just a little bit numb, she realized.

With a sigh, she curled up on the bed again. She could... clean things up later. Then worry about her phone.

She sighed and rolled over. She sighed again. Confusion, worry, sadness, fear, a little bit of anger, it all rolled around in her head and her heart and made if very hard to think straight.

She knew the facts of things. Or well, some of them. She had no idea what set him off. Last time...it had been memories. Another sigh. Maybe she was trying to MAKE it be her fault. Pushing for a closer relationship... she knew he was hesitating. Maybe it had something to do with the outburst, maybe not.

But she knew what he did. Just like before. Nearly like before. Hate in his eyes, dagger in his hand... Armagnac growled. Sherry sighed again. He had said it might happen again. He'd asked for her help if it did. She remembered that now. But she'd left him. Out of fear, out of anger. Mostly anger she realized. She was afraid, but at this point more afraid he'd hate her than hurt her. She'd told him before she didn't think he'd hurt her. But when he lost himself like that, well. She didn't know. "And we live in a world where it could be influenced by anything." She'd seen friends turn on friends before. And SHE'D been angry, too. There could have been something in the air.

The huff came as Sherry got up off the bed and moved to pick up her ring.

"No," she said, sadness evident in her voice. "But I've decided to see if he wants the chance." She looked around the room. "You have to admit I lost my s**t last night, too." She'd broken everything, and it hadn't satisfied the need to damage things. She'd wanted to hurt him.



Sherry shook her head. She wouldn't get anything done all day by thinking. And she needed her phone.

So, still in her pajamas, she left her mess of a room behind and went to knock on Jake's door.