The soft humming in the back of his skull is in tune with the drifting notes of Beethoven as they move through the small library, and the water puts Abe at ease more so than anything else ever could, pristine waves gently lapping against his skin as he swims back and forth, absently looking over to read a page out of a book, and then swimming farther along to read another page from another book.
It's become a habit, one that's slowly becoming a lifestyle, to roam amidst the musty papers and leather of the library, holed up in his tank to avoid overhearing an argument between his two friends, or feeling a spike in the temperature when one of the twins loses control of their fiery abilities. It just saves him a lot of trouble, really. But it does make Red a bit annoyed, and causes Liz to breathe hard with frustration, and the children often splay their hands upon the glass of the tank to get his attention, leaving sticky handprints that don't seem to want to come off.
They all think that he's ignoring them, and maybe he is.
Or maybe he's ignoring the memories, the flashes in the backs of his eyes whenever he does a common task, the pulses of light that occur when he thinks of something. So, he avoids it all, and avoids thinking, and lets the waves take him where they will, floating along the false current as he shuts down his mind.
With ignorance, though, comes the worst kind of clarity, hidden away among the darkness and shadowed corners of minds that wish to cease. And how he wishes to just cease, to simply breathe and blink and stop.
Look at you, says a voice beside him. Lazily, he turns his head, blinking over at the source.
She's even lovelier beneath the water, pale strands of hair floating about her head as the gilded ends ripple with movement, the golden cloth of her dress floating around her and around him and brushing, ever so tenderly, against his bare skin, her milky eyes sparkling as she smiles at him, the soft corners of her crimson colored lips upturned and glowing against the paleness of her cheeks, which are decorated with light scars. He sighs, watching as the bubbles rise up and vanish in seconds, captivated.
You don't wish to stop, Abraham, she murmurs gently, the echo of her voice flaring up within his mind as she gazes at him, the shine of her soul so intensely bright in his memories.
"But I do," he replies softly, shaking his head at the sensation of sadness she imparts upon him.
To stop living is a horrible burden. Your family needs you.
Abe blinks at her, his gills flapping faster at the feel of her next to him, his heart pounding frantically against his ribs.
"They could do without me. I haven't contributed to anything in a long time, and they wouldn't be so worried all the time," he explains factually, counting off the reasons on his webbed fingers, and he stops to give her a lasting stare. "And I'd be with you."
Nuala laughs, a silent, muffled sound that shakes him deep in his bones, and tilts her head to gaze past him, her eyelids fluttering closed.
It hurts.
The water around him feels like it's surging, even though he knows that it's not, and the blackness that overtakes the corners of his vision startle him enough that he focuses, wholly and completely, on her face, trying not to look at anything else, until rose gilded liquid colors the water scarlet, and her glowing eyes gaze over imploringly at him as he glances down at the small wound in her chest, her face forlorn as she puts forth her arm, her finger curled beckoningly in his direction.
Make it stop.
He moves over to her, grabbing the sleeve of her golden dress with a steady grip, and he tries to stop the bleeding, desperately searching around him for something to use, and she whimpers, his attention turned back to her at the gentle touch of her palm against his cheek, her blood slicked skin sliding against his own, her slender fingers shaking.
Save me.
But he can't, can never save her, and will forever be forced to watch her wither in his mind, just as she does now, her bright eyes dimming with the darkness, her touch vanishing as her trembling lips form his name, whispers filling his head as the water wraps around her and calms in the next instant, leaving only the oblivion of dark blue in its wake.
Her ghost remains, somewhere in his head, and when he finally sinks to the bottom of his tank, his knees pressed to his chest with shaking arms, the loving way she'd looked at him flickers in his thoughts, and Abe can't find the desire to cease.
But he can't find the will to not cease, either.
Please R&R! Feedback is always appreciated! ;)
Prompts or ideas are welcome (or ships).
All rights go to their respectful owners.