First Dream
There was something standing there, laughing at him, mocking him, and he felt like his limbs were burning and although he knew that he couldn’t collapse and pass out just yet because that would mean letting him get away, and he could not let that happen.
Something- someone- collided with his chest and started to push him back.
“Enough already! Stop already! You… can’t fight him anymore! This fight is over!”
A woman’s voice and… and she wanted him to stop? No.
“Not yet!”
He heard an intake of breath. Why didn’t she understand? He couldn’t give up, he couldn’t let that thing get away!
“He’s still alive!”
Everything went black, and he was confused. Had- had that been him? What the hell had been going on?
“I don’t fight because I think I can win... I fight… because I have to win!”
He felt uneasy, he hurt, it would be so much easier to give up but he couldn’t even let himself think that way. There were people he had to protect, and if he died here, who would do that? He stared at the… man? No, it couldn’t be a man, men didn’t have such pale skin or strange yellow-on-green eyes or look so coldly at someone as though they were trash. But when he spoke it was with a man’s voice.
“Nonsense.”
Something tightened around his throat and he couldn’t breathe, he was choking, white noise was in his ears, he was going to pass out and then…
Someone screamed…and then…
Black.
His chest hurt.
He clutched at it, and found his hand coming into contact with nothing but bare flesh. It was smooth and pink, newly healed? His heartbeat was erratic, he could feel it thudding under his bare palm. That was normal, that was good, that was…
Why did he think that it was weird? What, did he expect his heart to be missing or something?
When he opened his eyes again, the world was sideways.
He didn’t know what upset him more: the fact that the world was tilted on its axis or that he wasn’t especially surprised by it.
He lay there for a moment, blinking, breathing. Being.
“Get up. You have work to do.”
The voice that spoke was gruff and nearby; he looked up at a man in a long, ragged black coat.
“I said get up! I*****!”
The man’s lips were moving but he could hear nothing but cold, high laughter. The man spoke again, and the laughter returned loudly.
“It seems the tables have turned,” the man commented dryly. “Can you hear my name at least? It’s me Zan-“
Everything went black again, and he felt like he was falling.