fic: Bad Dream
Title: Bad Dream
Rating: G
Spoilers: Through tVD 3.10 (will only make sense if you've seen everything, but no explicit spoilers)
Warnings: None
Summary: Rebekah's mind during 3.10
Hope. Pain. Despair. Light.
Then blinding pain.
Everything is so dry, so dark, so cold.
In her mind echoes a female voice. A friend. A confidant. A traitor. A memory.
Klaus.
Brother. Friend. Confidant. Traitor.
In the darkness, in the unbelievable thirst, there is only this. This and the pain, the cold, the betrayal.
Klaus.
A whisper in her ear, in her heart.
And that voice, that is so familiar, so cold, so warm. So fragile and strong. So girlish and young and mortal and …
In the fog there comes a thought, a memory, a dream of mortality. Of dancing. And she tries, in the thick darkness, to pull a memory of her own voice. Was it ever so fragile?Was it ever so strong?
Has she always been in this darkness? In this dry thirst?
A moment of clarity, a face in the darkness. A face with a mirror. A face immortal and mortal. A face that is set and still and always in motion. A face of a girl, a woman, a child, a monster. A face that could have been hers, but might not have been. A face of trust and betrayal.
Did she even have a face?Would she recognize it if she did?
A wrench, a pull, and her senses are bombarded with light. So much light. It blinds, it paralyzes.
Can't move. Can't move. Can't move.
Can't block the light the pain the betrayal.
Two voices blend, shift, hover on the very edge of her senses. Male. Female. Guarded, caged, bitter. She is their topic. She hears her now-forgotten name hovering behind the sounds that form words that are not her name. She is only an echo, a memory.
Not her pain. Not her memory. Her body is their pawn. A chess piece. Broken, dry, decayed, weak, still.
Klaus.
Can't move. Can't move. Can't move.
And then just him in the blinding light. The voice of him. Calling to her, coaxing her. There is a tenderness there, wrapped up in cruelty. Her heart leaps to her throat.
Comfort. Home. Family. Peace. Has she ever known these things?
She remembers nothing. And then she remembers fingers. They twitch involuntarily and the feeling is strange, unknown, unwanted. She reaches back for the darkness, for confusion, for the dry thirst that keeps her from remembering…
Moving. Fingers. Toes. Lips. Moving.
She reaches for nothing. She seeks nothing. She can’t contain the pain. There is nothing forward but hard memories she doesn’t want to remember. There is nothing backward but the darkness.
And the light gets brighter. The voice gets louder. She’s hovering on the brink. She’s almost there, almost to the source.
Hope. Pain. Despair. Light.
Then blinding pain.
Everything is so dry, so dark, so cold.
In her mind echoes a voice. A friend. A confidant. A traitor. A memory.
Klaus.
The darkness embraces her and she stops struggling. The darkness, the forgetting -is less painful than the light.
Rating: G
Spoilers: Through tVD 3.10 (will only make sense if you've seen everything, but no explicit spoilers)
Warnings: None
Summary: Rebekah's mind during 3.10
Hope. Pain. Despair. Light.
Then blinding pain.
Everything is so dry, so dark, so cold.
In her mind echoes a female voice. A friend. A confidant. A traitor. A memory.
Klaus.
Brother. Friend. Confidant. Traitor.
In the darkness, in the unbelievable thirst, there is only this. This and the pain, the cold, the betrayal.
Klaus.
A whisper in her ear, in her heart.
And that voice, that is so familiar, so cold, so warm. So fragile and strong. So girlish and young and mortal and …
In the fog there comes a thought, a memory, a dream of mortality. Of dancing. And she tries, in the thick darkness, to pull a memory of her own voice. Was it ever so fragile?Was it ever so strong?
Has she always been in this darkness? In this dry thirst?
A moment of clarity, a face in the darkness. A face with a mirror. A face immortal and mortal. A face that is set and still and always in motion. A face of a girl, a woman, a child, a monster. A face that could have been hers, but might not have been. A face of trust and betrayal.
Did she even have a face?Would she recognize it if she did?
A wrench, a pull, and her senses are bombarded with light. So much light. It blinds, it paralyzes.
Can't move. Can't move. Can't move.
Can't block the light the pain the betrayal.
Two voices blend, shift, hover on the very edge of her senses. Male. Female. Guarded, caged, bitter. She is their topic. She hears her now-forgotten name hovering behind the sounds that form words that are not her name. She is only an echo, a memory.
Not her pain. Not her memory. Her body is their pawn. A chess piece. Broken, dry, decayed, weak, still.
Klaus.
Can't move. Can't move. Can't move.
And then just him in the blinding light. The voice of him. Calling to her, coaxing her. There is a tenderness there, wrapped up in cruelty. Her heart leaps to her throat.
Comfort. Home. Family. Peace. Has she ever known these things?
She remembers nothing. And then she remembers fingers. They twitch involuntarily and the feeling is strange, unknown, unwanted. She reaches back for the darkness, for confusion, for the dry thirst that keeps her from remembering…
Moving. Fingers. Toes. Lips. Moving.
She reaches for nothing. She seeks nothing. She can’t contain the pain. There is nothing forward but hard memories she doesn’t want to remember. There is nothing backward but the darkness.
And the light gets brighter. The voice gets louder. She’s hovering on the brink. She’s almost there, almost to the source.
Hope. Pain. Despair. Light.
Then blinding pain.
Everything is so dry, so dark, so cold.
In her mind echoes a voice. A friend. A confidant. A traitor. A memory.
Klaus.
The darkness embraces her and she stops struggling. The darkness, the forgetting -is less painful than the light.