Dave Strider, the boy who lived in his dreams. Mind constantly racing, stuck in the light happiness of a familiar face or dark horrors of a nightmare. Right now though, the latter seemed very prevalent. Whimpering and gasping, his hands reaching, reaching for something that just wasn't there. The boy had been left for dead, an experiment. A simple object created for doctors to test on.
Machines poked and prodded at the pale skin, trying to make an insertion with its small needle. A clear shining liquid shifted and waited to flow into his veins. Doctors waited patiently a few feet away, tapping and scratching at glass machines. Dave's past dreams flickered over them, reflections of them shining dully on the white tile. They had what they wanted, why did they want more? What did they want from me? Why me?
"Help," He sobbed out, clutching an imaginary wound. But it hurt, it hurt so so much. He cried out, no one was there. Why was no one there? Through his blurry vision, he managed to see a figure approach. A faint, distant prick on his arm, stars dancing across his vision.
"It's all going to be alright," the warble voice of, who he could only guess was, a nurse said. Dave wanted, needed, to believe her. The thing was, it wasn't going to be 'alright' and he knew it. He was going to end up bleeding out on this hospital bed and in a black bag. So he kept kicking and screaming.
Let me out, let me out, let me out! He wanted to yell, but as soon as he thought it, the distance light of the hospital faded away only to be replaced by the view of a house. His eyes widened. It all seemed so familiar, why did it seem so familiar? He wracked his brain for a memory, passing it in a car, walking past it on his way to morning classes all those years ago. Anything. But nothing came to mind. But then he saw him. Eyes brightening, back straightening, he stumbled over to the boy.
"John?" He whispered, voice filled with hope. He ran a hand through his white-blond hair and waited for a response. The boy blinked for a moment before a grin spread across his face, cheeks flushed. In a flurry of motion, arms were wrapped around each other, fists clenched around fabrics. A small grin had formed on Dave's own face as he peered down at the awkward boy that he had somehow gotten oh so smitten with.
"Inside?" John asked softly, tilting his head to the side so dark chocolate brown hair fell across his glasses. The taller boy nodded softly and after a moment, the couple slid back to the unfamiliar yet terribly familiar house. The large oak door was closed behind them, a lock clicking into place as they walked down the hallway, fingers laced together in an intricate knot. A grin wormed its way onto his lips as he leaned down and fit their lips together. With a small laugh of surprise, John kissed him back. This moment of silent passion was broken apart when the door was opened again. The pair split apart, flushed cheeks and quick breaths. Harsh voices filled the air as Dave took a step forward, reaching to grab at a small blade from their side table.
He peered around the corner, candy red eyes meeting a luminescent orange pair. The taller male blinked before a smirk formed on his lips. Behind him, a hoarse scream erupted, shattering the silence. As Dave turned around, a shining blade was slowly pulled from its resting place in Johns left lung. Crimson blood soaked the carpet underneath him even before the boy hit the ground. The attacker only chuckled and stepped away from the bleeding boy, walking over to his accomplice.
"Well, it's been fun. But I think we're going to have to go, don't you think so?" The orange eyed devil spoke with that knowing little smirk that just made Dave want to- his thoughts were cut off when a sharp punch to the head sent flares bursting in front of him. He carefully sunk onto the floor next to his half-conscious boyfriend, tears snaking down his cheeks. A small bloodstained hand reached across the small distance between them to rest gently on Daves cheek. When he looked over, his eyes met the dull orbs of a dying boy. A weak smile, red trickling down his chin in a thin line that trailed to the base of his throat.
"This wasn't… wasn't how it was s'posed to go. You weren't s-supposed to go out like this. I'm sorry." He whispered, voice cracking before he finally slowly sinking into darkness.
When his eyes slid open again, Dave looked around only to find himself in a hospital bed. Arms and legs strapped down to the cool metal bars as doctors attempted to see inside him. Find what he was thinking. His dreamscape played out on the screen in front of the room, yet another group of creepy white gloved doctors watched eagerly as his data was collected. The boy blinked slowly, looking around. He peered up at one of the nurses, confusion twisting his pale features.
"Where's John?" He asked quietly, certain that this was the dream; that he'd wake up in a few more minutes. All those hopes came crashing down on him when the woman slowly shook her head. On the screen, the knife was pushed into the shorter boy's chest over and over and over. No no no! He was real, he was. So so real. The doctors replayed the scene, zooming in on parts of it: his reactions, items used, the victim's face. His body trembled at an uncontrollable rate. Rewind, repeat, rewind, repeat. Over and over. Blood, blood, blood. Arms struggling against the arm bands. Find him, you have to find him. Daves mind was racing, trying to figure out where the lost boy was. The doctors continued to play through his dream. Forward and back, forward and back.
After hours of pleading with the silver clad nurses, the itchy cloth was removed from his aching limbs. He immediately stood up, his legs carrying him to the dream recorder. He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes with a trembling hand, watching the screen. He grabbed for a remote, pausing at a point to see John smiling. The hand holding the thin strip of metal began to tremble. His careful watch turned fearful as the doctors stood, tapping at their thin glass tablets, patiently waiting for a reaction. Dave chewed on his lower lip quietly before a choked sob escaped. He clamped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop it. Quiet quiet quiet. Stay quiet. Don't let them see it; it'll only make it worse. Silently, carefully, the lanky teenager walked back over to the perfectly made bed. Needles automatically pierced his paper white skin, set off by dozens of sensors surrounding the area. He slowly began to slip into unconsciousness.
The first thing Dave was aware of was that he was on a beach, warm water slowly lapping at his toes. The second thing was John's sleeping face. A sleepy grin was spread across his cheeks; he hadn't meant to fall asleep. Faint chuckles bubbled up in his throat as he reached over to pluck the black rimmed glasses off the quietly snoring boys face. John gently pushed against his touch, a soft noise of contentment escaping him. The other male smiled softly and lay back on the warm sand, eyes on the large expanse of blue above them.
Soon, the sleeper began to stir, arms reaching to tug Dave to his chest as if he were a life-size teddy bear. His head buried itself into his shirt, a muffled noise against the fabric.
"What was that?" Dave asked, lips into an amused expression. He tilted his head to the side and leaned down slowly, resting his head on John's shoulder. He ran a gentle hand through the dark hair of his partner before whispering, "Speak up weirdo…"
The smaller boy huffed and looked up at him with a slight pout; his electric blue eyes squinted up into what could only be described as a scowl. "I said give me my glasses." He whined, crossing his arms over his chest. Dave only grinned softly and shook his head.
"What'll happen if I don't?" He murmured, trailing a pale hand down his spine with a small laugh at the others obvious frustration.
John pondered this for a moment before responding. "I'll uh…run away?" His eyebrows furrowed in fake seriousness, and he carefully attempted to crawl out of the taller (and stronger) males arms. Once he had escaped, his hands reached for the blurry black rimmed object in Daves hands, grinning when he found no resistance. He quickly began planning some playful jest for him as he put in the frames, only to find that he had fallen asleep. With a small chuckle of mischief, John dashed down the sandy beach. His boyish grin faded when he saw the two girls. At this point, Dave eyes fluttered open just enough for him to see a tall blonde girl approach the raven haired boy. He pulled himself into a sitting position and watched as the pair conversed quietly. Another girl who was the complete opposite of her partner, short with dark hair, stepped out.
Dave slowly pulled himself up to his feet trying not to scream at John that something was wrong. Oh god something was wrong. This whole situation seemed off, staged if anything. The short boy…a puppet. A beloved character on a projection, moving with a script. He slowly walked over just as the dark haired girl pulled out a glinting blade. John didn't notice of course, but Dave did. He swore under his breath and raced over, stumbling over sand and shells.
"Ab-" His voice was cut off when the blade disappeared into John's right lung. A horrid scream filled the air. Dave wasn't sure who it came from; himself or John. His body shook as he fell to his knees besides the shaking boy, a finger pointed weakly at the girls. Blood trickled down his cheeks as if they were tears. Dave swallowed hard, tugging him into his own arms as the pair of females ran off down the sandy shore.
He pressed a soft kiss to the boy's forehead, breaths shaky and uneven. Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake… His mind was reaching, aching for a solution that just wasn't there. And then John went still. A choked sob escaped Dave as he held the pale boy against his chest, rocking back and forth. He shook him, slapped at his cheeks, kissed him. Anything!
"Please wake up… Please…" He whispered, crystalline tears streaking down his cheeks.
Dave was jolted awake by a doctor, his whole body shaking. He gripped the metal bars of the bed in his pale hands as his eyes squeezed shut. Somewhere in the background, he heard his dream being played out as if it were a television program. As if they were just characters on a screen. And he couldn't…no, he wouldn't take that.
With a small growl, he slowly stood up and walked over to the small rectangular beside the screen. Metal stars and moons covered its surface, as if trying to make it seem peaceful. He shook his head and grabbed it, cutting off the 'program'.
"No." Dave spoke quietly, placing the dream recorder at his feet. "You…you won't do this to me anymore." The doctors watched him in fear as his foot came down on the small machine, shattering the stars. Breaking the moon. He smirked slightly, remaining still even as the shards cut into the flesh of his foot.
They scrambled for the metallic pieces, pushing the boy aside as they struggled to fit the pieces together. Mutters and groans of frustration filled the air as they came to a collective statement. It couldn't be fixed. Their eyes all turned to the bleeding Dave before they slowly stood up. As if they were one being, he was brought to his bed and forced down, needles shooting liquids into his bloodstream.
He wasn't there. Daves brow furrowed with confusion as he looked around the bare environment. His red eyes finally found the other male.
"John!" He called over happily before practically skipping up beside up beside him. He waved slightly before realizing that something was wrong. "John?" He whispered, touching his lovers cheek. No reply. He frowned slightly and looked down at him.
Dried blood was crusted over John's crisp white shirt, more of the liquid leaking out of his two wounds. When Dave tried to get him to lie down, he stuck his arm out, shaking his head. "No."
The frown that had formed on the taller males face deepened when John ? He thought, shaking his head before trying to bring him back down to the ground. Standing this long in his state wouldn't be good…for either of them.
"Kill me." John spoke quietly, a blade appearing in his hand. Dave sucked in a small breath and began shaking his head, denials pouring out of his lips. "You have to." The other boy whispered as if it were a simple fact, pressing the blade into his loves shaking hands.
"No… No I don't." Dave shook his head again, trying to get rid of the knife. But then John grabbed hold of his hand and slowly guided the tip over his heart.
"Kill me." He spoke as if it were a reassurance. "It'll be better. Just do it." A small smile formed on his cheeks as he looked up at the shaking male.
"You really want this?" He whispered, biting down on his lower lip. When John began nodding, he pushed the silver metal into his beating heart. "I'm…"
"Sorry." John finished for him before slipping the knife out of his own chest and pushing it into Daves.
When he awoke, he couldn't see anything. Shrouded in black, in darkness, closed in. Muffled voices filled the air.
"Dead."
"Cardiac arrest."
"Unfixable."
"Failed experiment number 3243."
Machines whirred and died at the voice, thick silence filling the poisonous air. Clear, curt footsteps as doctors emptied out of the room, lights flickering out. Dave tried to escape his prison when he realized, he couldn't move. Help… His lips tried to form the word but no sound came out. The frantic beating of his heart had come to a stop. No! This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! He wasn't supposed to just die like this! Live, he was…supposed to live. He just wanted to scream at the doctors, scream for them to run their stupid tests again. Air closed in, tightened in his throat. A gasp seized him, a shudder. Silence.