[for ghostshield]
You go to bed. You dream. You wake up like every other morning, only this time, part of you feels like it could be crazy.
Soze spends the day looking for Jeff, following the vague not-quite signals from their bond and finding nothing. It's like he's vanished from the multiverse, vanished from everything, and now all that remains is a false presence that could very well be standing behind his shoulder but never is.
The world is starting to feel different on his end. Blurry. Discolored. Time crawls at an impossibly slow speed. The hours feel like days.
And then there's the sleep, the tugging behind his eyes that pulls him in, again and again, just when he starts to lose focus. He's slept all night, but it never goes away. He closes his eyes, he blinks, and there are only dreams. Worlds and worlds of dreams, just beyond his perception and never quite whole...
And then there are images of Jeff, inside a mirror
inside, but not
a thousand threads
and
He makes it partway to the sanctuary before the wave of sleep comes again. He just barely manages to catch himself on a bench. He breathes, sharp and irregular, and wills himself to stay awake.
Soze spends the day looking for Jeff, following the vague not-quite signals from their bond and finding nothing. It's like he's vanished from the multiverse, vanished from everything, and now all that remains is a false presence that could very well be standing behind his shoulder but never is.
The world is starting to feel different on his end. Blurry. Discolored. Time crawls at an impossibly slow speed. The hours feel like days.
And then there's the sleep, the tugging behind his eyes that pulls him in, again and again, just when he starts to lose focus. He's slept all night, but it never goes away. He closes his eyes, he blinks, and there are only dreams. Worlds and worlds of dreams, just beyond his perception and never quite whole...
And then there are images of Jeff, inside a mirror
inside, but not
a thousand threads
and
He makes it partway to the sanctuary before the wave of sleep comes again. He just barely manages to catch himself on a bench. He breathes, sharp and irregular, and wills himself to stay awake.