A Long Time Ago, We Used to Be Friends
Comment-fic! Round Three!
-How To: Find the appropriate fandom thread and comment here with a prompt (add the pairing in the subject line). Or a few prompts, actually. However many you can dream up. If the fandom you want doesn't have a thread, make one by replying to the actual entry. Then it's time to respond! Find a prompt you like and run with ( Read more... )
-How To: Find the appropriate fandom thread and comment here with a prompt (add the pairing in the subject line). Or a few prompts, actually. However many you can dream up. If the fandom you want doesn't have a thread, make one by replying to the actual entry. Then it's time to respond! Find a prompt you like and run with ( Read more... )
She dreams of blood and screams and of needles being shoved into her brain all over again; she dreams of them less than she used to but they’re still there, ghosts that never seem to leave her no matter how hard she tries to get them to go away, no matter how hard she tries to silence them.
She falls asleep knowing that the dreams won’t stop, knowing that when the time comes they’ll rise up again like a tidal wave to swallow her whole; she knows that she’ll taste the blood in her mouth as sure as if someone stuck a metal device inside of it to keep it pried open and split open their wrist, letting the blood trickle down their skin and between her lips. It lingers on her tongue; she chokes on the coppery tang and awakes screaming more often than not.
But when her brother asks she says she’s fine.
She dreams of Reavers; she dreams of how it felt to slice through their skin. She dreams of bullets flying and the people around her falling down, clenching bloody, gaping wounds in their hands.
She dreams of Wash sitting in his seat and wondering why no one else can see him but her; she dreams of his ghostly fingers brushing over Zoe’s hair; dreams of him laughing and playing with his dinosaurs as he sits there watching the gauges and the lights, tries to keep the ship in the air with hands that no longer grasp anything.
Sometimes she can’t tell where her dreams end and her waking world begin; sometimes she thinks that her dreams follow her out into the real world, threaten to suffocate her. (Ghostly fingers grab at her throat, tighten around it, force all breath out of her like she’s a ragdoll that can’t protect herself, can’t control anything in her world and sometimes she thinks that she can’t control anything in her life, that her world is destined to be blood and pain and waking up without any breath, screaming herself hoarse.)
They all still think she’s crazy even as the craziness has started to fade though it clings to her brain like it's stuck there by pins and needles; they all whisper about her like she doesn’t know what they’re thinking when she knows better than anyone else what they’re thinking. (Their thoughts are never their own around her; their thoughts can’t be sacred anymore than freedom can be for her. She will never be free. Not ever.)
She dreams of him and his big hands and his ocean blue eyes; she dreams of his gruff voice and the way he calls her 'crazy' like it’s a special pet name for her. She dreams of his laughter and the way he sounds when he’s asleep; of the scars on his body and whispered words in the dark that they can never, ever speak to others. (Secrets she has grown accustomed to.)
She tries to dream of him, goes to him before she goes to sleep, presses her mouth against his skin and prays to whatever higher power there may be that she’ll only think of him and his hands and his mouth that night but all of the hoping never works. The moment she is back in her room and beneath her sheets she knows that the blood and ghostly fingers take control.
Peace only comes in her sleep when she tiptoes through the ship and makes her way to his bunk, opening the hatch as quietly as she can and climbing down the ladder.
Peace only comes when she climbs into his bed and his arm slides around her waist, molding her body to his, his breath warm on her neck, his heart beating against her back.
(All of the weapons on his wall she knows he would use to protect her if only her mind was a monster he could tangibly battle with.)
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I'm going to read this later because it's almost my bed time but I just wanted to say yay - someone answered my prompt! ^^ I will leave a more coherent comment tomorrow!
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