The darkness crept closer, and Day knew it wasn't simply the dark. She could almost hear the whisper of the Shadow Kids as they began circling her. She couldn't actually see or feel them moving, but she was dizzy none the less. She screamed for her mother, and for Finn, anyone to hear her and save her. She even cried out for her father, knowing it wouldn't do any good, but it's always the thought that counts.
She swayed, unable to balance, but it was as if the shadows were keeping her upright, making sure she wouldn't fall. It would've been sweet under different circumstances.
As if from a world away, she could hear someone crashing through the furniture in the living room. It was Finn, she knew it without a doubt. It was so dark, and she couldn't see him, but she knew that he was coming to her. The spinning stopped a little, and the darkness wasn't so dark for a moment as Finn simply crashed through the barrier of darkness as if it weren't anything.
The Shadow Kids cried out in anger, if you could really call it crying out. It was more like a surge, and the darkness, if it were possible, was even darker and blacker than before. But Day imagined that in their own shadowy language, they were screaming and hissing and roaring like any outraged creature.
She was suddenly afraid, not for herself but for Finn. Whatever the Shadow Kids were here for, it was clear that they needed her alive. But Finn, he was a wild card, and she didn't know what they would or even could do to him. Frankly, she didn't want to know. She just hugged him close and hoped they would leave him alone, hoped they would get that she wouldn't cooperate without him.
It was some time before Finn was certain that he was really awake, that he hadn't dreamed everything up. But no, Day was here, somehow impossibly entangled in his arms. The darkness had really been there, really been alive.
He unwound Day's thin arms from around his neck, extricating himself from her warm but slightly-too-tight grasp. She didn't even stir. He sat for a moment, staring down at her face and thinking back to when they were little. It was funny, almost. They used to pretend to go on adventures together all the time, but he never actually thought he'd ever be on a real one.
Looking down at Day like this, he remembered fondly a time in their backyards when she pretended to be Sleeping Beauty, and he had to be the prince who woke her up with a kiss. It didn't matter that her hair wasn't blonde like the girl's in the movie. It didn't matter that she was wearing holy play jeans and a dirt-stained t-shirt with a plastic crown on her head, instead of a pretty dress, or that she had dirt under her fingernails and her feet were so black it took almost a half an hour to scrub them clean later that night because she refused to wear shoes. She was still prettier than all the Disney princesses put together, even the one from Aladdin. It had been the only time they'd ever kissed, and indeed the only time he'd ever kissed anyone, family excluded. But that didn't matter to him, because all he ever needed was her. Just being near her everyday was enough for him.
Although, he thought as he looked around, some shoes would be pretty nice too.