Status: beta-ed by Nycro-Shears (thank you a lot!)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of MGR:R.
Collide
He sleeps like an animal inside.
No, he's not sleeping: he's always lurking; always waiting. I'm never alone. My life is a jungle, an organic chaos. While I fight my way through the undergrowth I feel eyes on me, breath at my neck. When I stumble, I lose time and my feet often become entangled. I stand out: a machine in the woods, like a fish out of water; I can't hide; I can't run. There are shadows around me, their shapes unsettlingly familiar. The air I breathe is thick with moisture, pressing down on me, slowing me down when I need to be fast. The lightning- like speed is a dream and not real here. Everything is but a dream. When I scream, the echo is my only answer; when I'm silent, I hear the agony of someone else; when I rest, the shots catch up with me. Someone's shooting, grenades explode, children scream. The smell of sulfur reaches my nostrils, creeps into my mouth, and I feel him moving, so I move too. I run until the shots die down; until I stumble. A shout of rage catches me unaware. A black shadow moves through the canopy like a giant bird, dark wings cutting through the leaves. Then I hear the rustling to my right, see a wolf darting through the ferns. I know another nightmare's coming closer; its presence is a silent call for him. I can feel its tentacles reaching into my soul, searching to draw him to the surface, making me his defenseless puppet. Running won't help anymore, so I sit down, hold my head. He's tearing at his chains, scratching and pounding, trying to get free. My fear is growing, pulling me to my feet even though it's useless now. When I scream I don't hear my agony anymore, but his. He's raging; he's crying; he's howling and its echo is unbearable, multiplying one scream into a hundred. My hand finds a tree to hold onto, while the other is entangled in my hair. I lean against the trunk but he's forcing me down, his power overwhelming me. My fingers dig into the ground; I want to pound my head against the tree, but I can't. A wave of calm washes over me, carrying him up while drowning me; my body's numb; my mind is at rest. Whatever happens now, no one can blame me.
My life is all black and grey.
I can't see the colors when he's in charge; everyday is a colorless tragedy. What he calls a living is my demise. I can't stand the sadness that is my neighbor inside. He's running in circles, thinking he's making progress, but every step forward is a also a step back; so he ends where he had begun, growing more desperate with each passing day. He won't accept, he'll forever keep running, running from a past that is his present and his oncoming future. Maybe it's genes or fate or just a matter of cause and effect. He'll give it a name, but I will not. I don't remember when he detached from me, when he became the conscious one. Now I'm the watcher, so I watch and tell him what I see. His precious normal life I recognize as a façade: there is no happy family, only two people who try to make the best of what they've got. Whenever he enters the street he notices it himself. The way people look at us, like we're not of the same kind. We don't deserve to live in their city, to walk through their streets, to breath the same air. There is no pity for what we have suffered, no respect for what we've achieved. They don't know so they think to be in the right. Don't they see how much they hurt him? Every secret whisper cuts to the bone; every look is a flying dagger I can't deflect. All he has ever wanted is a normal life, but that had been taken from us at the start. He knows, but when he is forced to realize I can feel him shattering. Unfair; not my fault - those are his thoughts when reality brings him to his knees. He may be right, or maybe not; it changes nothing. And when he's down, his defense broken and hurt flows through his veins, finally, his resolve weakens and we become whole again, and together we repay. Blood boiling, hate rising, I feel the need pushing me. While I am complete, I feel like the fist of god, unstoppable, indestructible; and now I indulge in the red blossoming on the ground.
A/N: Indestructible will take some more time. I hope this little text will make the waiting easier.