Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.
Warnings: This is a slash, guyxguy (although it could just be viewed as friendship, it's very light on romance). Don't like, don't read. Also has disturbing imaginary, including blood.
Enjoy.
Inside the dark room, two figures floated at the very center.
Although, the word 'room' is being used loosely. One could only see white outlines of where walls should be, while invisible barriers kept everything trapped in. Although the room was large, it was filled with horrible objects and suffering creatures. It made everything claustrophobic.
Slime and blood dripped from the invisible walls and ceiling. Twisted, pulsating limbs reached out, wanting to grab, to harm what's within reach. If one looked closely enough, they could see tentacles crawling and slamming against the invisible walls, as if trying to escape this nightmarish land. Said tentacles were covered white bumps that would burst and release a nauseating smell. They drenched the floor with pus and blood.
Spinning, old-looking clocks surrounded them. They were suspended in the air like they were. Many were cracked and broken, yet the hands kept turning at a rather intimidating speed. It looked as though if one were to put their finger in them, the mere speed of the hands would amputate it. They all made a rapid, maddening ticking noise, never ceasing, never slowing. Some swung back and forth, coming dangerously close to hitting the two beings.
On the floor beneath them, humans and Pokemon alike were born, and then rapidly aged. In mere minutes, they go from infancy, to adolescence, to adulthood, and finally to old age. But it doesn't stop there, for they then die and decay. Even their skeletons turn to dust in under a minute. The two could hear the cries of children as they are birthed, and then the creatures' pained moans as they are reduced to nothing. The creatures, humans especially, walked around with their arms in the air, crying for help.
The room offended all five senses. With the piercing ticks, the desperate wails of the humans and Pokemon beneath, and the thumping of the tentacles and disembodied limbs. It smelt like cancer and death, making the air thick and foul to taste.
And yet, Jirachi was smiling.
Then again, he knows that none of this is actually real.
Darkrai gazed at his fellow legendary, glancing back at the floor every once in a while.
As most know, Darkrai is the being of nightmares. He can enter dreams and manipulate them. Although his very presence causes the most unsettling of dreams, he doesn't actually have to create nightmares. Rather, he just activates them, and his victims' subconscious minds do the rest.
Honestly, he never expected the wish maker's dreams to be so…morbid. Jirachi always acted upbeat, and rather immature at times. He did expect Jirachi's dreams to be full of darkness, a common theme in nightmares. But he never expected decaying bodies and the like, especially like this.
But when he thinks about it, everything about this nightmare made sense.
Sometimes, the creatures would manage to form coherent words. With pained and accusing tones, they would ask Jirachi why did he leave them. His smile would falter and he'd shudder, but he always recovered. Apparently, the people below are ones he has seen before. All the friends he made while he was awake.
Every time he hears their voices, a guilty look flashes across his face. It pained the dark-Pokemon to see that, but also irritated him. It's not like Jirachi asked to be put into a thousand-year coma, he shouldn't feel responsible!
A twisted, discolored limb came out of the wall, and struck Jirachi. But it merely goes right through him and only manages to make his skin crawl.
Jirachi shivered, but calmed down after a few seconds. Nothing in this nightmare but Darkrai himself could hurt him, but it still startled him. The limb degenerated in mid-air, clumps of flesh falling off and disappearing before hitting the ground. Soon, nothing remained.
He stared at where the hand used to be, and then turned his attention back to Darkrai. Smiling.
And that was when Darkrai couldn't take it anymore.
"Why do you let me do this to you?!" the pitch-black Pokemon asked, sounding harsher than he meant to. He cringed at his own tone.
Jirachi stopped smiling and tilted his head.
"You know what I mean," Darkrai said, forcing himself to sound calmer.
Jirachi's mouth twitched, and his 'friend' could tell that he was trying to suppress a smirk. While Jirachi saw him as a visitor, Darkrai always viewed himself as an invader. Like he shouldn't be here. Even if, for some reason, Jirachi wanted him around.
"It's not like you're doing it on purpose," the steel-type pointed out, trying to keep from looking down. He glowed faintly, arms crossed. In contrast, Darkrai remained almost invisible in the darkness. If it weren't for his glowing eye and bright collar, nobody would be able to see him.
"I'm aware of that," he grumbled, trying not to roll his eyes. "But why do you let me into your dreams?"
The only way for the two to interact was for Darkrai to enter Jirachi's dreams. The comatose Pokemon was still asleep, and will be for another seven-hundred years.
"Because-" Jirachi started, putting a finger to his bottom lip. He put on a mock-thoughtful look, pouting his lip, and looking up absentmindedly. Darkrai glared at him in annoyance.
Finally, Jirachi smiled and looked at Darkrai "I like your company," he shrugged.
The nightmare-maker narrowed his eye, his other eye hidden behind his cloud-like hair.
"But the nightmares-"
Jirachi raised his hand, a more polite way of telling his companion to shut up. He floated towards Darkrai, who always kept a respectable distance.
"Darkrai," Jirachi started, reaching out and grabbing the other's hand. Darkrai's hand remained limp, but he didn't try to pull away.
Jirachi looked up at the taller one and smiled even wider. "As long as you're in it, none of my dreams are ever nightmares".
If he could, Darkrai would've raised an eyebrow at the older being.
"Corny," he said simply.
Jirachi laughed lightly. "Doesn't make it untrue, you know".
Darkrai said nothing, but he intertwined his fingers with Jirachi's.
Don't ask what the hell is wrong with me, because I do not know. :P
I call it Comashipping, until a better name comes along.
Critique is most welcome, and don't be afraid to nitpick.