A/N: Okay, so, C.C. here and hi there! I came up with another crappy little perspective drabble, so, let me know what you think, if you even read this.

Warnings: Insinuated death

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own. If I did, well, let's just say that Crisis Core would have ended a hell of a lot different. ;P


Drip, drip, drip, drop, drip. It was torture, it really was, the feel the water touch his skin and then roll harmlessly off his skin, and away from him. No sight, and hearing fading, touch was one of the few things that could be given to him, a mercy that was more like a curse. His arms were heavy, as if they were bound, and he fancied that his lover was just out of reach, torturing him, raising the bar as time went by.

He was sure that his hair was screwed, and after all that time he had spent on it, well, it was just going to waste in this situation. He was either severally fucked up, or he was laying on his back, but that was fine. It meant that he didn't have to worry about much for any longer. A reprieve, of sorts, if you wanted to look at it that way.

He once again tried to lift a hand, and found it harder than before, and his fingers just twitched in response, barely a tick, and a thin layer of amusement rolled through him, slowly, like a lazy wave, rolling over him gently. The silence, at least, he assumed it was silent, was deafening, but it was a choking sound that startled him the most. His surprise froze him more surely than any binding that he had been strapped down with. It took him a few moments to realize it was he, who had made that sound.

It sounded far off, as if muffled by a pillow, or in a different room. He was laughing, a choking gurgling sound, and he could taste something on his tongue, a copper, thick taste, almost like sucking on a coin. As the laughter abated, he felt a single roll of water trace a path through the dirt on his face, down the side of his face, and into his hair, which he had taken so much pride in. The irony wasn't lost on him.

He was alone. He could feel it, and he had to push his panic down, before it suffocated him, pushed him deeper into the darkness. Why would he be left alone? They'd never done that before, it wasn't expected, and they hadn't warned him and-! Oh, right. That's right, he'd been alone for ages now.

Lost and trapped in a place that wasn't touched by the warmth and light of love or mere affection. Of all the things that were plaguing him now, the lack of sight, hearing going, the disorientation, the barely suppressed terror , the not knowing of how he got in this situation bugged him the most. What had he done? He couldn't remember! Why couldn't he fucking remember?

A tickling in his lungs, that was more like a hot iron caused his body to convulse, in a cough, and the taste of the metal was in his mouth again, stronger. It hurt to breath, he noticed. It had been getting worse, in the last hour or so, and if he could just get his arms to work, he might just be able to figure out why.

As it was, the feeling of water was becoming the only thing he could focus on. The dripping, everywhere now, as if he were under the spray of his shower. It felt, odd. As if it couldn't decide if it wanted to be painful, or have a kinder touch. Eventually, that faded as well, and he was falling, and falling.

It was blissful, and the urge to just fall and let it all go was over whelming. It would be okay, he knew that, it had to be, otherwise, otherwise…otherwise what? Who cared, anymore? He just wanted to sleep, it'd been six weeks since he'd had a decent amount of sleep, why not indulge himself? It was just so easy, to let it all go.


A/N: So, who do you think it is? Nope, that's right, I'm not going to tell you. It's open to interpretation. Until later,

- C.C.