As Tera lay in bed that night, she regretted not telling someone about her dream.

She knew it was just a silly dream, and she couldn't even say it felt real to her, but it felt important. She knew as she stared at the bars of the top bunk that this dream was important. Rationally, she knew it probably wasn't more important than getting a job or making a plan for higher education, but her chest felt the urgency so much clearer than it did with those other things.

She rolled onto her side as she thought about the dream, it had invaded her mind like a spider in her ear; laying its eggs to keep her from sleeping. Her chest was urgent and excited but she needed sleep. She needed to sleep, shush, go to sleep. Her body just wouldn't be comfortable as she lay. Bed a little too flat, pillows a little too tall, something itched, and whenever she scratched it another thing itched.

Her mind raced too fast to be quiet, so she sat up. 

"Mesa? You up?" She asked her sister softly, hoping not to wake her if she was sleeping.

Silence.

Tera dropped to the carpet and tiptoed out of the room. She walked slowly down the hallway, simply because she didn't want to walk any faster. She padded softly past the bathroom, looking in at the pitch black window.

She found her way to her dad's bedroom door and thought about knocking. She didn't know what she'd say to him but she knew she had to talk to someone. 

Her knuckles hovered inches from the door, listening to her heart pound in her ears. There was so much feeling inside her and she just knew it would sound silly if she said it out loud, it always did. 

Her urgency didn't seem so pressing when she was standing in front of the door. She knew she needed to talk to someone but it was easier not to. It was infinitely easier as she dropped her hand back to her side and stepped back. She knew it was worse, in the long run, but she only had so many healthy decisions in her. She felt her disappointment in herself rise slowly and familiarly in her stomach as she kept walking, past her loving father's door and into the living room.

She remembered, just as suddenly as she entered the room, that it wasn't her living room anymore. It was the temporary bedroom of her uncle Steven. She remembered the conversation beside the car.

"Your name is Steve?" She asked.

"Yup."

"As in Steven?" She clarified. He rolled his eyes at her, probably catching on to what she was saying.

"People call me lots of stuff ok?"

"But dad's name is Stefan." She laughed as she said it. Uncle Steve smiled.

"Mama was a well of creativity." He excused.

She watched his silhouette rustling through the cabinets of the kitchen just past the aforementioned room. It was nearly four in the morning, why was he in the kitchen? The composition notebook on the couch drew her attention. Its open page had the single sentence continuation of the previous page, it read, 

"...under these circumstances. Still, I am happy to be back, maybe this time I can make a name for myself that isn't a curse."

She was curious but didn't dare turn to the previous page. Instead, she crept slowly closer to the kitchen, where Uncle Steven was bent over and rooting through the fridge.

"ᵘⁿᶜˡᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉⁿˀ"

He couldn't have heard her quiet inquiry, true to form he didn't pause in his search.

"Uncle Steven?" She spoke louder and he jolted straight up, banging his head on the top of the fridge and stumbling backward.

"ShhhShhhhSHHHHsugar!" He drew out his curse until it was something tamer.

"You can say shit in front of me." She crossed her arms. He rubbed his head sorely and scowled. 

"It's Steve, please and thank you." He sighed. "And swearing in front of children is unmannerly." 

"I'm not a children." Tera snapped and Steve raised an eyebrow at her.

"What are you then, a teen? Fourteen?"

"Eighteen!" She uncrossed her arms and balled her fists.

"See? Children." He dismissed and shoved his head back into the fridge. Tera was tired and she didn't care if he thought she was a child. She felt like one, all worked up over nightmares, so she sighed and tried again.

"Well…Steve…what are you doing up?" The only answer she got was the sound of him continuing to shuffle through groceries. "Hungry?"

Stevens' body stopped moving and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You don't have any ginger, do you?" His voice was weary. Tera nibbled nervously on her hair, answering quietly.

"We don't refrigerate it, it's with the spices." She clarified. Steve backed out of the refrigerator and hung his head, groaning.

"The spice rack," His gaze drifted past the fridge at the wall where a wooden rack contained many small bottles of herbs and a generously sized tuber of ginger. "I'm an idiot."

His voice strained while he slowly raised from his kneeling position, grabbing the table for help heaving himself up. 

Tera leaned against the wall, watching as he fumbled around to find the grater. He wrapped the grated ginger root in some gauze and soaked it in a mug of hot tea he'd managed to make before Tera interrupted him, adding honey and pine needles from his coat, apparently. His hand was shaky as he stirred his tea in counterclockwise circles, the spoon and mug's rim clinked and clattered together. He was somehow handling and preparing the hot beverage with gloves on, muttering something.

"One you can take, one I can keep, I was awake, now I'm asleep." He muttered it over and over to himself as he stirred.

"What are you making?" Tera decided the query was tactful enough. He kept stirring as he fixed her with an indecipherable gaze.

"It's a sleeping tea, a friend showed me the recipe when I was a kid." His voice was weary. Tera leaned against the wall and watched him stir the cup slowly, always clockwise.

"You…been having trouble sleeping?" She asked cautiously. Steve raised an eyebrow with a smile.

"For about twenty years." He laughed quietly. Tera winced but only asked.

"Can you make more?"

###

"So, tell me about the dream," Steve demanded suddenly. 

He'd brewed more sleep tea and they were settled on the sofa. Tera didn't know how to answer.

"I never mentioned a dream."

"Oh come on," he rolled his eyes. "You're too young to have horrible regrets keeping you awake at night, so was it a nightmare? How often have you had it?" He nonchalantly continued. Tera had to collect herself to respond.

"Ok yes, I had a dream… but I only had it once and it wasn't even tonight." She explained, staring at her hands. Steve took a thoughtful sip, both hands on the mug.

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"What about?"

"The inevitable."

They stared at each other again, sipping their tea in tandem. Steven cleared his throat.

"That's one to think on." He concluded. Tera sighed and finished her tea in a few gulps, wiping her face on her sleeve. 

"It was weird, I fell asleep sitting up which I don't usually do, and there was this weird building in the woods. Like a shed or something all dilapidated and stuff." She leaned back against the couch and sighed.

"Perhaps this place is important. Did you dream of entering?" Steve mused. Tera shook her head.

"No it wasn't in the dream, the shed was real. That's where I fell asleep and had the dream." She clarified. Steven sprang from the couch and walked to the kitchen. He seemed to have much more energy as he paced around, eventually coming back to the couch.

"So you found a shed in the woods and slept in it and dreamt of…?" He moved his hands in circular motions as if attempting to pull the answer out of her. 

"I dreamt of a lot of stuff that didn't make sense, there was fire and death and everything went so fast." She tried to explain but he cut her off with a groan.

"Stay away from dreams, especially one's around Elsewhere." He muttered. They sit in silence while Tera processes his words and he seems to realize just what he'd said.

"There's something going on and you know something about it." She stated. Steven turned a little red before he answered.

"I have an idea, but I don't want to get involved if I'm right." He answered quietly. Tera furrowed her brows.

"You know and you aren't going to do anything?" She asked. He stood up and walked to the kitchen, squeezing between the fridge and the wall to get there.

"Tera it's like six in the morning microwave time, you should go back to bed." He responded at length. Tera stared, she could argue, but it would do no good. Steve didn't look at her from where he stared at the microwave in the kitchen. She started turning down the hallway before one more thing crossed her mind. 

"Do you know if there are weasels around here?" She asked, not turning back around to say it. A sudden shattering of ceramic made her jump but she hid it by turning to look back. Steve stood with a haunted expression above the broken remains of his tea mug.

"I…think so, yeah." He seemed to choke the words more than speak them. As if he had physical difficulty with the lie. Yet lie he did, as he stuck to his statement through Tera's intelligent and expectant stare. After minutes of silent battle where it was clear Steven wouldn't budge, Tera continued down the hallway back to bed.