He floats around these barracks, siphoning off the dread from all the recruits and the hardships from the officers. But this one…it calls the darkness within him. The Darkrai never had such a violent dream cross his consciousness before so why would-
"Of course…" the Darkrai growls as he makes his way through the walls. There were a few that stayed close to these humans but they would always leave when he came around. But a certain Gastly would always linger to see his form appear from the shadows.
He gasped for air, trying to calm his racing heart as he wiped the sweat from his face. Another nightmare of what happened on Akuze. Whispers of his teammates' screams echoed in his mind as he stumbled out of bed towards the bathroom.
John was a mess when the Alliance finally sent someone to see what happened to their team. When they reached him, John thought the soldiers were another hallucination. It was only after they loaded him in the Mako before entering the ship that he could finally relax. He waved off the doctors that tried to get something out of the stoic soldier as he regained consciousness in the med bay.
He crouched over the toilet waiting for his dinner to make an appearance.
"Shepard, Run!" Everything shakes before he goes flying amidst the dirt and flying limbs. Screams of the dying fill his ears as the thresher maw makes its appearance.
"Can you believe it? Guy survives while fifty others die." He hears the nurses clucking and mumble as he pauses around the corner, hidden from their pity.
"How are you feeling John, anything new to add?" the psychologist asks day after day, trying to get him to talk about what happened on Akuze.
A roaring sound fills his ears as John empties his stomach, almost wishing that the memories could follow along. He stands up, flushing the toilet before turning on the sink to splash water on his face. John looks up to see his reflection scowling at him.
Dark circles underneath tired eyes glance over the new scars on his lips before looking at the ones near his hairline. John remembers his cocky attitude when he first joined, how it changed into a somewhat responsible adult, but he doesn't recognize the face looking back now.
Are you scared? the reflection seems to say.
NO. John bites back, hands clutching the sides of the sink. He glares at it wondering why he's arguing with himself.
The reflection frowns before crossing its arms. You're lying to yourself.
I'm NOT scared. John growls at the smug look it now takes on. Why do you care?
You need help with your nightmares don't you?. They're getting worse and your body is becoming weak. Trying to talk about it gets you nowhere. The answer frustrates John as he looks away to pace.
Do you think you can shove everything away, hide it in some corner of your mind? Ignore what rattles you and shaped you on Akuze? the disgusted tone makes John pause to glance over at the mirror.
The reflection now wears his armor from the day of the attack, its face showing the bored look that he wore when they first left the base. John is back at the sink, watching with sickening dread. The muffled sounds sharpen to talking about how nothing seems to happen here. John wants to look away as the Mako crosses the plains and the rumbling starts.
"stop…" John whispers. He can't look away.
The Mako flips, the roars of the thrasher maw rattle his bones more than the crash. Something spatters across his face, but there is no time for emotion just reaction.
"…" his hands are clutching the sink, arms trembling.
They weren't trained for this but they fought on. When it first disappeared, they thought it was over. Cheering before realizing their teammates were hurt and went to help.
John tries to move, to get away. He can't see this again, can't relive it.
The thresher maw re-emerges so close that John was flying with the debris. He lands near the wreckage of the Mako and is too dazed to do anything but listen. Listen to the screams, listen to the thresher cut open his teammates, listen to the sound of silence when the worm finally finished with them before looking for him.
John's stomach is churning and roiling. He sees himself running across the landscape, farther and farther from the base because the crash messed with his omni-tool. The 'hours' pass and he keeps on going until he reaches a cave in the mountains. John runs inside before collapsing on the ground and emptying his stomach.
He waits for a rescue when he is done, setting his signal to the base. The base that the thresher maw attacked when it realized there was food to eat. John waited and waited, hope slowly decaying with each moment as the shadows of doubt grew.
"You couldn't save us, Shepard" the voices of the deceased echoed all around him. "You weren't strong enough. You were weak." They hissed at night and spat during the day. Friendly and familiar faces warped into dark and distrusting looks.
"Weak…weak…Shepard's so weak" they cooed into his ear as his hands shook. "Can't even place the gun right and pull the trigger."
The reflection looked straight at him, a crazed grin covering his face while holding the pistol next to his temple. "Well John, what do you say?" the ice blue eyes challenge him.
"I'M NOT WEAK!" John explodes before slamming his fist into the mirror. It breaks into pieces, some shards falling into the sink and others tearing his skin. He doesn't stop with the mirror.
John goes after anything he can destroy in that bathroom, ripping the top off the toilet before hurling it into the shower curtains. He yells as the sliding glass wall breaks, he wants to fight until it stops, he wants to hurt something anything to stop with their pity, stop the medals, stop their empty words stop just stop he's no he-
"Pathetic."
The interruption makes John turn over to the doorway to see…himself. The Other John walks inside, boots crunching glass with each step. He scoffs at the mess.
"Pathetic, really pathetic. Do you think that after your superiors find out about your breakdow-" Other John starts to speak but John barrels into him, forcing him out of the bathroom. John crushes his other self against the floor before he starts punching, yelling in a mindless rage.
He doesn't know how long he punched the other Shepard, only that he is too tired, unable to breathe without panting, and barely able to hold his body off the unrecognizable/familiar thing. John crawls away to lean his body against the bed and closes his eyes.
He feels drained but better for some reason, as if he weighed less than a feather. John opens his eyes to look over to his body-victim?-fade away just as a shadow comes out of the wall.
The shadow grows into an hourglass shape, the bottom half turning into jagged edges while the top half grows into a torso. Spindly arms grow out of the wavering form before a spiked red collar circles a white 'head'. The hair on the head changes from black to white as the Darkrai's blue eye stares directly at John. It floats over to him before grabbing at something in front of John.
The tired man could only stare as the Darkrai's hand turned into a mass of purple before the shape of a Haunter appeared. It looked surprised before it began 'speaking' to the Darkrai, but he didn't seem eager to listen to whatever the ghost had to say. The Darkrai slams the ghost into the wall before threatening the Haunter with its other hand. The ghost squeaks before leaving and the Darkrai seems satisfied.
Many emotions rush through John's head. Shock, anger, fatigue, even relief all blur as he opens his mouth.
"So…this was all because of a Haunter?" The disbelief morphs into a low chuckle.
John doesn't notice when his laughs turn into sobs, when he brings his knees close to his chest, or when the tears start to fall. He doesn't see the Darkrai look uncomfortable or that it nearly touches his shoulders in a gesture of comfort. Instead, it leaves through the same wall it entered, leaving him sitting alone.
When John wakes up, he is lying in bed. Taking a quick look around as he gets up, he sees that nothing is out of place. No blood staining the carpet where he beat "his" face in, no holes in the shower walls from throwing the top, no broken shower pane glass littering the floor, and even the damn mirror is in one piece. John frowns, wondering about what happened to the mess.