Warnings: None yet. Implied boy/boy, and also sort of but not really gore. There's really not a lot to be worried about yet.

Author's Notes: Inspired by recent events that transpired in my own Amnesia game sort of. I've got to admit, I'm kind of in love with Alexander/Daniel, and if I do end up adding another chapter this story's going to pretty much run its own course in that direction, just fyi. :] Uuh hope you enjoy it? Reviews are always appreciated, as is everything else you lovely readers do for me.

Daniel could feel the castle tremble beneath his feet as he enters the guest bedroom. Faintly, he recalled spending many a hour in here, and as he closes the door behind him – a precautionary measure he has learned to take after his recent mishaps – he shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

The air is warm and dry. His room smells of dusty paper and books – My journal, where is my journal, they couldn't have taken it, could they? - and the scent is soothing, if only a little bit. Daniel opened his eyes to see his room in a serious state of disarray. He couldn't have put into coherent words, however, how relieved and delusionally happy he is to see that it is not a foot deep in water or crawling with a multitude of cockroaches.

He remembers this place. He remembers the hours spent, bent over book and paper like, hand cramping from scratching inked words onto the parched surfaces with his quill. He remembers feeling so exhausted at the end of the night that falling onto the plush bed provided for him by Alexander felt like a small piece of heaven, gifted to him by an angel.

Alexander. Indeed, the name provoked a bitter hatred inside him still. This time, though, was different. He thought perhaps his previous self, the Daniel that remembered who he was and what he was supposed to do, hated Alexander for the vicious crimes he'd committed against people when he hadn't the place to do so. But himself, this new and not necessarily improved Daniel, hated Alexander for a different, entirely selfish reason.

He recalled the chase through the water-filled hallway, the dizzy spells, the wounded and chewed torso dropped in front of the guest room door. He thought back to the roars that had shook the castle while he shakily concocted a weak acidic potion to get through to the refinery, and the minutes that dragged like years he'd spent hiding in dark corners as mutilated corpses shambled around him.

No, Daniel hated Alexander for an entirely different reason now. He hated Alexander because of the things he'd seen these past hours, because of the horrors he'd been forced to witness on this man's account. He despised the Baron with every gritty fiber of his being, and this in itself exhausted him.

Daniel turned his head and looked toward the bedroom. Shattered and whole wine bottles alike littered the room and drawers had been pulled out of their cozy sockets, but the room still looked more inviting than anything else he'd seen so far in this castle. A few candles glimmered in the dim light. The threatening aura that seemed to emanate from every inch of the castle had dissipated with the light; tentatively, the brunette stepped forward and into the room, taking another deep breath as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

His head swam. A sudden rush of dizziness overtook him. His fingers clutched at the edge of the bed as a swift onslaught of memory – smell, touch, feel of a different time and place – overtook him.

"Nightmares again, Daniel?"

Alexander was standing in the doorway of his room. Blinking, Daniel realized he'd awoken himself with a cry, and that he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. His night shirt stuck to his skin. His hair was tousled and out of place, and his heart was beating rapidly, as if to the pace of a war drum. For a moment, he could only nod numbly at the direction of the more aged man, who stepped forward into his room and sat beside him on the dark green comforter.

"Yes," Daniel managed out after a moment. "Every night they come to me. Sometimes worse than the last time, others just the same."

He sat up in bed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his agitated pulse. Alexander reached out and touched his cheek with smooth, slender fingers.

"You know you have nothing to fear here," he said. "You're safe with me."

Alexander did not retract his fingers. Daniel found solace in that touch, especially after his turbulent sleep, and tilted his head to lean into the other man's fingers.

"Sometimes I think I shall never be rid of this thing," he murmured tiredly. "Sometimes, I think perhaps I shall always be stuck, sleeping with nightmares and struggling to survive."

"Don't worry," Alexander said, leaning a little closer. "We'll stop them yet."

Daniel looked up at the Baron, soft eyes filled with a sapped, exhausted hope that was nearly out. Alexander seemed to be drawn forward; Daniel closed his eyes as their noses brushed. Their close proximity should have alarmed him - warning bells were going off in his head at a rapid pace, but he was so tired and he didn't care, he didn't care in the very least, he just wanted to be close to Alexander until the shadow couldn't get him any longer.

"We could find another way to keep the nightmares at bay-" Alexander began, voice catching briefly; they were so close so close, and Daniel tried his hardest not to breathe, but the instant their lips accidentally brushed Alexander pulled back as if burned.

"Alex - Alexander?" Daniel asked, but the Baron had already stood and was sweeping toward the doorway. He seemed to shake himself – how could he possibly have let himself fall into such a petty desire, and so easily?

"I – There is work to be done," he said brusquely. He seemed to be trying to "I will be up and in my study, as usual. Please try to get some sleep, Daniel. You're starting to get shadows under your eyes."

The memory ended with an abrupt halt, and Daniel struggled to grasp the last fleeting remnants of the moment. Had he and Alexander-? Had he wanted-?

Now, Daniel thought a little bitterly, he had a whole new reason to hate Alexander.