you're not the only one -
Characters: TU!Irvine Kinneas, TU!Jenos Hazard
Setting: Jenos and Irvine's apartment, December 2nd.
Time: Early morning. As in like, three in the morning.
Summary: The Empty Child took Jenos' ability to dream. Not only does this mean no restful sleep for her, this also means more nightmares. And with it being so close to a certain occasion that she now no longer looks fondly towards...
Warnings: Nightmares [Black Cat spoilers if you haven't read up to volume 12?] and later on, Jenos and Irvine being dorks.
Ever since her encounter with that frightening child, Jenos hadn't slept right. Couldn't sleep right. She tossed and turned in a fit to attempt it, and what little sleep she managed to catch before waking again was blank, dark, dreamless. It wasn't what she was used to. Nizer had always subtlety teased her, in that way of his, for her ability to always have good dreams and sleep like a rock half the time.
Not now. Now she didn't dream at all, and if she did... they weren't dreams. They were nightmares.
She had half dreaded it, as she had crawled into bed later that night, exhausted after her lack of sleep last night and helping Asch look for the missing children she had been watching. But she had crawled into bed, and after what she guessed had been maybe a hour's worth of tossing and turning, managed to fall asleep. And she found herself back in Creed's castle. But this time she was a spectator - watching as Nizer pinned Creed from behind, watching Belga take aim, prepared to fire through Creed and consequently Nizer to finish their mission. Watching herself forcing Belga's shot to miss, shouting about losing comrades.
She had no voice to yell at herself, and wasn't sure if she even wanted to - either way she would have lost someone that day, and it was worse to know that now and be forced to relive it all over again.
The ground lurched beneath her feet, and she was in the castle now, in the hallways. She watched herself, carrying an unconscious Nizer, rush past with Belga in an attempt to escape the crumbling castle in time, for all three of them to get out in time. To keep Cerberus alive. But the ceiling collapsed - Belga was trapped - she watched herself escape out the window in the nick of time, Belga's last words echoing in her ears.
"What you did just now destroyed the Number's reputation, but I don't have to live with killing a comrade, and I deeply thank you for that."
And as a ghost she was forced to watch the ceiling collapsing, crushing Belga beneath the rubble, the orichalcum cannon he carried disappearing beneath the rubble along with him.
She woke up screaming his name, heart hurting, tears running down her face. She quickly covered her mouth to avoid disturbing Irvine, muffling heartbroken sobs, trying to calm her nerves and recompose herself. You're a Number, a professional. Get a hold of yourself, Jenos! The mantra slowly worked and she slowly calmed, scrubbing her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her night shirt to get rid of tears. She managed to spy the calendar she had bought recently out of the corner of her eye, and smiled bitterly to herself, staring at the 11th that seemed to blare out at her.
"He would've been 30."
Setting: Jenos and Irvine's apartment, December 2nd.
Time: Early morning. As in like, three in the morning.
Summary: The Empty Child took Jenos' ability to dream. Not only does this mean no restful sleep for her, this also means more nightmares. And with it being so close to a certain occasion that she now no longer looks fondly towards...
Warnings: Nightmares [Black Cat spoilers if you haven't read up to volume 12?] and later on, Jenos and Irvine being dorks.
Ever since her encounter with that frightening child, Jenos hadn't slept right. Couldn't sleep right. She tossed and turned in a fit to attempt it, and what little sleep she managed to catch before waking again was blank, dark, dreamless. It wasn't what she was used to. Nizer had always subtlety teased her, in that way of his, for her ability to always have good dreams and sleep like a rock half the time.
Not now. Now she didn't dream at all, and if she did... they weren't dreams. They were nightmares.
She had half dreaded it, as she had crawled into bed later that night, exhausted after her lack of sleep last night and helping Asch look for the missing children she had been watching. But she had crawled into bed, and after what she guessed had been maybe a hour's worth of tossing and turning, managed to fall asleep. And she found herself back in Creed's castle. But this time she was a spectator - watching as Nizer pinned Creed from behind, watching Belga take aim, prepared to fire through Creed and consequently Nizer to finish their mission. Watching herself forcing Belga's shot to miss, shouting about losing comrades.
She had no voice to yell at herself, and wasn't sure if she even wanted to - either way she would have lost someone that day, and it was worse to know that now and be forced to relive it all over again.
The ground lurched beneath her feet, and she was in the castle now, in the hallways. She watched herself, carrying an unconscious Nizer, rush past with Belga in an attempt to escape the crumbling castle in time, for all three of them to get out in time. To keep Cerberus alive. But the ceiling collapsed - Belga was trapped - she watched herself escape out the window in the nick of time, Belga's last words echoing in her ears.
"What you did just now destroyed the Number's reputation, but I don't have to live with killing a comrade, and I deeply thank you for that."
And as a ghost she was forced to watch the ceiling collapsing, crushing Belga beneath the rubble, the orichalcum cannon he carried disappearing beneath the rubble along with him.
She woke up screaming his name, heart hurting, tears running down her face. She quickly covered her mouth to avoid disturbing Irvine, muffling heartbroken sobs, trying to calm her nerves and recompose herself. You're a Number, a professional. Get a hold of yourself, Jenos! The mantra slowly worked and she slowly calmed, scrubbing her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her night shirt to get rid of tears. She managed to spy the calendar she had bought recently out of the corner of her eye, and smiled bitterly to herself, staring at the 11th that seemed to blare out at her.
"He would've been 30."