Octavian
Octavian tossed restlessly in his bed. When he finally got to sleep, it was to be greeted by nightmares.
Late at night, he was awoken by a firm hand on his shoulder. Octavian sat up slightly, small hands rubbing at his eyes. His father was sitting across from him, where his nanny usually sat. Where was Sarah? She should be there, not Father. Octavian looked at his father with sleepy, confused eyes.
"Father?" Octavian asked softly.
"Hello, Octavian."
The man regarded the young boy. Octavian yawned. He was really rather tired. And it was all dark out.
"Father, what is it?"
"Can you keep a secret, Octavian?"
"Of course I can, I'm a big boy," Octavian said with some indignation.
"And not tell anyone? Not your nanny, not Mother and not Demetria?"
"Yes."
Octavian nodded firmly.
In his sleep, Octavian moaned. He knew what was coming next. Sometimes he woke up. This time he wasn't going to have that escape.
Byrce smoothed his hand over Octavian's head, fingering the spun gold texture of his young son's hair. Octavian smiled sleepily, blue eyes half lidded with the need to sleep. Bryce sighed huskily, then covered Octavian's small mouth with his own. Octavian made a muffled sound of protest, hands coming up to push at his father's shoulders.
"Be a good boy for Father, Octavian," Bryce said.
Octavian stared at his father, confused and bewildered.
"Take off your pajamas."
"Am I going to have a bath?" Octavian asked, before drawing his pajame top over his head.
"I like baths. 'Specially when Nanny Sarah puts in bubbles. They're all foamy..."
He wriggled out of his pants and sat on top of his bedspread. Totally confused, but trusting his father.
In the present, wetness glimmered on Octavian's cheek.
"Roll over on your stomach, Octavian," Bryce said.
Octavian did so.
"Why, Father?"
"Because it will hurt less."
"Father, what?"
Octavian started to get off the bed, but Bryce pushed him back down. A hand smoothed down the curve of his back.
Nothing mattered. Octavian sobbed into the bedspread, tiny childish hands clutching at the thick material. It *hurt*.
"No no, please, no Father, nooooooo..." Octavian pleaded in a heartbroken sob, gasping and choking on tears.
When Byrce was finished, he rolled off his son and picked up a washcloth. He cleaned up his hysterically sobbing child with a strangely gentle hand.
"You love your sister very much, don't you Octavian?"
"Uh huh."
Octavian wiped his eyes with a grimy hand, crying freely.
"Then you won't want this to happen to her. This will just be our little secret, my little slut."
Octavian sat bolt upright with a choked cry, sweat pouring off his body. He lay back down and scrubbed his hands over his face. Damn it, he thought he was over this. He closed his eyes tiredly. Please, no more dreams.