Ram hated the fourth of July.

It was alright during the day. Barbeques, Summer sun, celebrating winning the battle for freedom from tyranny. What wasn’t there for a Changeling not to like. Especially one like Ram who had literally fought on the Battlefield. Joined the Iron Spear as soon as he got out of Fairie so he could continue fighting against the True Fae and the Freehold’s enemies. It should be a great holiday for a person like him. It was great.

So long as the sun was up.

But when you lay in bed, with the never ending pops and cracks vibrating through the walls. When all you could think about was how much it sounded like the roar of canons and shrieking of elfshot. When you downed a bottle of NyQuil to try to help you sleep. When you tried to go to the store to get more but had to run back inside because you thought you saw the dark shapes of dragons in the sky when a brief light flashed. When you hugged your knees to your chest with one hand and a pillow to your head with the other to muffle the sounds but it didn’t help because half were the screams of memory. When it just… wouldn’t… stop, until tears the tears came and you had to muffle your sobs because you were you thought maybe it was real. Maybe you were back on the battlefield. Trying desperately to stay asleep through a raid. That maybe all this had just been a dream and with each explosion he risked being jolted wake back There.

He didn’t fall asleep for a long time and even when he did, he still heard the bombs going off with every firework.