Fleeting
By Alaricnomad
The world as he knew it began to blur before him, the shapes and forms of familiar objects growing gray and faded and shapeless, the colors blurring and bleeding together, fading away until it was utter black before his eyes, a dark so thick, so infinite, so palpable he knew there was no escaping it.
He remembered screaming, the raw and desperate noise resounding shrill and inhuman through the air, grating against his ears. He thrashed, wildly, desperately, and warm hands reached out to restrain him, a quiet voice softly reassuring, urging him to calm down. His body stilled, going limp, and he found himself being gently pressed downward, until his back met the surface of the bed.
A bed. His fingers reached out cautiously, running over the smooth, cool fabric of the sheets, the worn material of the quilt, left warm by the bodies occupying it only a moment before. A bed. His bed. He knew who ought to be in his bed.
"Peyt?" he questioned, reaching out his hand blindly, involuntarily whimpering softly as he only found cold, empty air. "Peyton!"
Within a moment, a small, warm hand enveloped his own, the other reaching forward to soothingly brush against his sweaty brow. "Shh, Luke. It's alright. I'm here."
"Peyton." Her name was all the sound that would come to him, a grounding reassurance.
"You're fine, baby. Everything's fine. You just had a nightmare."
He gripped her hand tightly, concentrating on the feel of her fingers as they entangled with his, stroking familiar form and texture. "Peyton…why…why can't I see you?"
A choked sob was his only answer, and he turned his head quizzically in the direction of the sound. Peyton never cried.
"Oh, Lucas. Think for a moment. Think very carefully, honey. It will come back to you."
As if her words were the needed force to break the mental dam barring against his recollection, the memories came flooding back into his mind, faster than he could fully comprehend, far too vivid to be dismissed as pieces of fantasy or dreams.
With a sharp cry of defiance, he raised a hand to his eyes. He remembered it all in that moment. The shooting. Getting Peyton to safety. Racing back into the school in time to get to Keith. Finding Dan standing over Keith, gun in hand. Lunging between the man he was ready to call his father, and the man who contributed nothing but the seed that spawned him. Throwing Dan out of the way. Saving Keith. Dan shoving him away violently when he rushed at him again. His head colliding against the wall with a sickening smack. The price he paid. His swimming vision as his sight died away forever.
His blindness.
Peyton sadly watched the different expressions dance across his face- confusion, shock, anger, regret and sudden realization. He sobbed and she gathered him into her arms, cradling the man who as a boy, was to her, so golden, so larger than life. In her arms she held her savior…
In her arms she held a fallen hero.