Disclaimer: Not mine.
Sasuke didn't dream much. He was never the type to let his mind let loose and conjure up images and sounds that made no sense. It was not worth the energy. When he did have the occasional dream, it was definitely not worth pondering over when the morning came. Sleep was a time for rest and restoration, so he could wake up the next morning, and be ready for more training.
There was nothing out of the ordinary that day. Training, putting up with complete imbeciles, and focusing on his improvement took up most of his time. His feet shuffled quietly when he entered the house, and he hardly blinked as he passed through all the rooms. The rooms held more memories than he could stand, and he quickly put them out of his thoughts. It wasn't worth thinking about things in the past when there were more things to worry about in the future. Closing the bedroom door behind him, Sasuke felt a strange solace in the muted click of the lock sliding into place. It was safe in there, protected. Knowing he would soon be in a deep, black, peaceful sleep, Sasuke sat down on his bed and sighed, planning and re-planning what he would do tomorrow. Everything had to be in order.
It was late in the night. The clock proclaimed it was 12:13 in the morning, ticking by slowly, purposely, counting away the minutes. Sasuke groaned into his pillow, arm thrown over the back of his head, grabbing and scratching the nape of his neck. He gave another low, guttural sound, before throwing his body weight over and curled up into a little ball. The fetal position seemed to be more comfortable to the sleep boy, and although sweat sheened on his body, he stayed in that shape, his head tucked away near his knees.
Sasuke was at a party. There was a large hall, filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of people. Their faces were blurred, and he was floating through, drifting, like he didn't belong. There were muted voices all around him, but none directed at him, so they did not matter. He let himself be carried through the throngs of people, who joyously clanked glasses filled with champagne, and fell on each other laughing. Then, a face becomes clearer in the crowd. The face of his father looks back at him, screwed up like he was in pain. The man was stumbling, trying to make his way through the crowd. Sasuke knew deep in his heart he needed to get to his father, and started to run. His legs moved, but his body did not. He was stuck in place, with people all around him, holding him back. They were impeding his way. Fear clenched his heart a way he had not known in many, many years. Blood rushed to his face in anger and frustration as he tried to work his way through, but there seemed to be a thick, murky wall that stopped him from working his way any further.
Time seemed to stop, and Sasuke felt he had been running in place for hours and hours. That pained face haunted his thoughts, and still he worked harder. Harder and harder and harder, he pushed on. Finally, that mysterious thing that had been holding him back let loose, and he broke through. Covering a space of 50 feet in seemingly two seconds, Sasuke wrapped his arms around his fathers shoulders. The man was stumbling, trying to walk. Sickness permeated the air around him, hung heavy and thick. An arm wrapped around Sasuke's shoulders, and he let his father lean on him. Weight was added to his back, straining him, but despite the pressure, Sasuke managed to hold on.
They worked their way outside, greeted by crisp, dark air. The balcony must have been ten stories up from the street, and everything around them was filled with lights. It was a busy, booming city, but between the skyscrapers, they could see a lush, green field. His father always took him out in that field when he was younger, played with him, taught him about nature.
"Look daddy, I caught a salamander!" little-Sasuke proclaimed once, holding up a slimy creature that was struggling desperately to get out of his grip.
His father had simply smiled and nodded, eyes twinkling and alight with life.
A similar silence fell over them now. Sasuke gripped his father, breathing in the sickness, so thick in the air he could feel it fill his lungs. It crawled beneath his skin, wrapped his way around his father's body, and clouded his eyes. Those clouded eyes stared out at the field, unfocused, and a frown tugged downward at his lips. Sasuke knew suddenly that his father was going to die.
Sasuke had never cried before. Well, he had, but not recently. Not as intense as he did now. Waves of sadness washed over him, despair filling his body up, overflowing. Burying his face in his fathers chest, Sasuke sniffled and sobbed, gripped fruitlessly at the mans shirt. He tried to hold on, to bring his father back, hold him closer. But that sickness grew stronger, taking over the mans mind. His eyes had the look of a dead man, white film covering them like a second pair of eyelids. He no-longer saw. His body was fading, into the dark. Sasuke was desperate now, filled with such intensity that he clawed at his father's back, willing him to return.
But he was already gone.
Sasuke awoke at exactly 2:17 in the morning. The clock had continued it's ticking, solid in a way that never failed. Fear immediately clutched his heart, and Sasuke scrambled desperately, trying to get out of his bed. The death of his father had been relived, although in a different way, and hit him a thousand times harder. He was right there! He could have helped! Sasuke wanted to get up and check his parents room, to make sure they were still there, breathing, like he did when he was younger and had nightmares. But he realized that they were already gone, that what he had witnessed was just a dream. He sat in confusion for a few moments, before giving a sigh of resignation, that nothing could be saved. Letting himself fall back onto the bed, Sasuke draped an arm over his eyes as he tried to rid himself of the sour taste in his mouth. After a good while of laying and ridding his mind of racing thoughts, Sasuke turned over and checked his alarm.
After all, he still had to get up in the morning, and the dream was not worth wasting energy over.
A/N: Based on a dream I had. Not very well written, rushed, and all that jazz. Oh well.