AN: Well, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but then it had an attack of plotline and re-editing. So I've expanded the original post into the first chapter and will be continuing with more chapters.
Luke was kind of annoyed. They'd gotten to Sheridan and frequency measuring device still wasn't finished. Hadn't they given the researchers plenty of time to work?
Doing nothing but sitting around stressing out while waiting for them to finish building it had gotten tedious, so Natalia had organized a combination training session and picnic for them just outside town. They had allowed her to do so only on the promise that Anise or Tear, or anyone else really, would be running the picnic part. And then Jade took over the training part. So, in reality, all Natalia had was the idea, and the persistence to make sure the gloomy, strained mood didn't kill it.
Luke didn't mind, he had been feeling much better after the first hour of taking out his recent stress on the local monsters. Hitting things with swords just seemed to make everything better. Now, in the third or fourth hour, he was settling into a proper stamina-rhythm.
Once they had finished with the teamwork drills, Jade had allowed them to wander apart a bit to find their own single battles. Of course, he kept track of everyone so that no one was ever out of shouting range in case of trouble. So Luke knew he didn't have to worry about any of that, which was nice. No details, just him, his sword, and some monsters to beat up. He briefly wondered if all that responsibility was further stress on Jade, or if the routine of organization relaxed him. He seemed to enjoy it, which Luke just couldn't comprehend.
But if he kept drifting off into thought like that it would soon be him, his sword, and some monsters beating him up. Re-evaluating his situation, he realized he was more tired than he should be by now. But he probably just shouldn't have taken that extra helping of Anise's cake. The sugar rush had been nice at the beginning, but he must be crashing right about now. Oh well, he could work through it like always.
Another set of monsters dispatched, he took a moment to rest. He had never had a crash quite this hard. His sword had wavered far too much for his liking in his last maneuver. But he was still doing fine, he assured himself. And anyway, nobody else was even starting to tire. He moved on to find more monsters.
Partway through his next battle, his ears started ringing and he half-stumbled before fully getting his sword through the monster in front of him. He was in the process of sitting down when he heard the thump behind himself, and tried to spin around. All he succeeded in doing was falling down in a disgraceful heap to the accompaniment of rude laughter, and seeing the monster that had been sneaking up behind him fall over with a spear sticking out of its back.
Jade approached to retrieve his spear and gave Luke an appraising look.
"I'm fine, honest. Just drifting off for a moment, sorry Jade," Luke said sheepishly.
"You're lucky, is what you are. 'Drifting off' in battle is not acceptable," Jade replied in all seriousness.
"Won't happen again, really."
"Just what I was thinking," Jade said with a smile, "So, are you going to head back on your own, or do I have to escort you the whole way to ensure that you get there?"
Luke had the feeling that he would be supervised either way. He also had a suspicion that staying wouldn't be an acceptable answer. It couldn't hurt to try anyway. At least not too much.
"But-"
"Glad we cane to this little understanding. Tear's already rented the rooms at the inn, so just ask the receptionist, and she'll give you your key. I'll inform the others of your departure."
Luke couldn't comprehend how someone could look so terrifying while smiling so pleasantly. He grumbled some more, but agreed to go back to the inn, like he had known he would have to. He didn't mind being told to rest, but Jade could have done so in a less demeaning way. Of course, this was Jade, any other way he would have handled it would probably been even more embarrassing. But at the very least, Jade didn't have to treat him like so much of a moron. He knew how inns worked at this point, thank you very much. He also knew how to keep that sentiment to himself, since Jade would just take it as further bait to tease him.
He didn't think he had worked that hard, but on his way back he kept stumbling, and at one point his vision blurred up so much that he had to rest against a tree until it passed.
It took him much longer than it had to get out there, but he got back to the inn. He had almost gone in the item shop, but caught himself at the last moment. He must be really tired, because the inn and the shop didn't even look anything alike.
He put up a weak smile for the receptionist. Pride be darned, at this point he just wanted a bed so he could go to sleep now. She was pleasant and helpful, but he still found himself dozing off on his feet when she went to grab his key. After snapping back to attention, he thanked her, grabbed the key she held out, and scurried off down the hallway.
The corridors of the inn were all twisty and long. He wasn't sure if that was because he was wandering in circles or because the inn itself was confusing. He eventually reached a door that matched the number on his key, way in the back corner of the inn. Honestly, could they have put his room any farther from the entrance?
He jammed the key onto the lock, but it refused to go in properly. Then he realized he was trying to insert it backwards. He went to insert it again, but was overcome by another dizzy spell, and ended up just leaning against the door, staring at it for a few seconds. When the three or four little holes in the knob lined up and became just one hole again, he inserted the key, and finally got the door open.
Looking around, he realized that Tear had booked him the single this time. All the better for him, not to have to worry about being woken up by someone coming in later.
He barely got his sword off and propped up in the corner before he became unable to resist the call of sleep. He just flopped backwards onto the bed, still fully dressed otherwise, and promptly fell sound asleep.
His dreams felt different than usual, although he was unsure how at first. As he wandered through dreamscapes that made far too much rational sense, he came upon a room he felt the need to enter. When he did, he discovered it to be full of filing cabinets and storage bins, with spotty lighting at best. He could hear someone rummaging around, and had the conflicting urges to avoid the person at all costs and seek the person out. By now he was getting lonely; his dreams had never been so devoid of people before. Even if the people in his dreams were usually criticizing him. Or screaming.
The other person made a grunt of satisfaction, probably finding what he was looking for. But then Luke could feel him leaving, and the loneliness won out over the fear. He ran to catch up to and cling on to the retreating presence.
The dream ended right when he grasped the other person and felt a yank, whereupon he slowly drifted back to consciousness. He felt much better than before, although he was still as tired as, if not more tired than, when he went to bed. But he didn't feel quite right.
He was moving and walking- Oh. He'd thought that he'd left behind his sleepwalking episodes years ago.
But as he became more aware, he realized he was more 'striding with purpose' than just walking or stumbling around like he had most often when waking up from his previous episodes. And he still wasn't slowing down. In fact, his body wasn't responding to his mind at all. But this wasn't entirely unusual either, it had occasionally happened to him before within the first few minutes of waking from an episode, so he didn't worry unduly.
When he finally focused his attention on his alternately drifting and darting gaze, he relaxed. This was the way to his room again, so soon he could get back to sleep. From the look of the darkened hallway, he had been asleep for a few hours. The others were most likely back and in their respective beds by now as well.
Strangely, though his body still felt more tired than it should, he felt like there was some purpose on the border of his mind for going to- back to- his room other than sleep, which put him back on edge, because he couldn't quite grasp what it was.
He arrived outside the room- his room and turned the knob slowly, then pushed the door open silently, so as not to wake... but that was nonsense. He was out here, so of course no one was in there sleeping. Although he wanted to laugh in embarrassment when he realized he had forgotten to lock his door.
But judging from the lump on the bed, he'd have to revise his opinion of the emptiness of the- his room. He just wished that he'd fully wake up soon; he still didn't even feel in control of his own body.
He really wanted to ask the person on the- his bed what they were doing there, and at this hour of the night. Even stranger, now that he was getting closer, he could see that they were wearing his clothes too... And the position they were lying on the bed, as if they had dropped there in sheer exhaustion...
He was getting more and more agitated, but his mind still wouldn't let him put together the fragmented pieces of information into a proper idea of what was happening. At least not until he felt his arm draw his sword and saw himself hold it before him… Or rather, he saw Asch's arm draw and hold Asch's sword in front of him, perpendicular to the floor.
How could he have ended up in Asch's body? Unless he was still dreaming, but no, this was real, said everything from the faint throb in his- not his, Asch's, leg to the writing on the door. The academic part of his mind, small though it may be, was desperately trying to distract him from what was happening with guessing how he had injured his leg. Probably strained it over-training. Again.
He pushed those thoughts aside, because avoiding the situation was not going to make it better. He had learned that lesson well.
But maybe the situation was getting better on its own, he thought, as his hand, Asch's hand, discarded the sword he had drawn. He was looking around the room, searching, Luke realized. For w- Oh. Not getting better.
There was only one reason to be staring at Luke's own sword so intently. Luke could practically see the images before him, thoughts he'd only ever flirted with, but always skirted away from. And they'd, his friends, probably believe it of him. He'd given them ample reason to, time and time again.
And now his sword was in Asch's grasp, felt right, except for the fact that it was in the wrong hand.
The arm holding the sword, his sword, moved back to hanging over the person on his bed's heart. There was no hatred in the motion, only duty, obligation, but that didn't comfort Luke at all.
It began raising the sword with the clear intention to strike, and Luke began mentally flailing and screaming, but he could do nothing as the sword reached its apex and swung downward, impaling itself into the body's chest with a muffled thud.
His mind just stopped entirely for a moment right then. Everything, thought, attempt at motion, speech, everything ceased, and he could do nothing but stare down at the bloody, dead body in his bed.
His own dead body.