Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Hunt nor any of the characters- I just like to make them do random things for my own amusement.

With that being said... read and review? :3

A/N at the bottom!

Rated M for: Character death... and really just character death.

"Talking" - 'Thoughts'

Story: Sedatephobia

One-shot

She had a dream once- where blinding colors bounced off everything, frilly pink hats were worn everywhere, a table set for five. The chatter around the table muffled, yet some how soothing to hear. It was ridiculous.

It was an amazing dream, not from the colors or the peaceful atmosphere, but because she could hear. She could hear the muffled giggling, the soft timber of male voices in the background. She could hear the emotions.

Then just like all her other dreams they come to a crashing stop. Disappointment, baring almost depression leaves its fingers clawing underneath her skin. She felt like she was suffocating.

It was almost tangible in the air around her prone body in bed. The silk fabric cocooning her did nothing to help with the cold reality that set in, nor did it barricade against her own emotional turmoil. She would never wake up to an alarm clock blaring, She would never hear her friend's voices, or hear the emotions when they speak, or the clicking of the clock only a few steps away from her lone body. She would never be able to hear again.

She had at one time been able to, when she was a little girl. She could remember hearing everyone's voices- their tears, crying, laughter, excitement. She was enchanted by everything back then, but she never realized how much she relied on her ability to hear, until the day she lost it. Those memories were blurry now, almost smudged. She couldn't hear around the muck of a brain that she had back then- always thinking. Those few memories are all she has. They are her treasures, her precious pearls. And when her mother and father passed away, she couldn't hear any of their last words. The only thing she has are her memories of old voices to bring her solace.

Sure, she could still see and pick up small tics that she never knew everyone had, but it was nothing to hearing those emotions. She forgot how she sounded.

What did she sound like when she cried? Was her voice deeper or higher in octave? What did it sound like when she hummed to herself? Was she off-key? She could still hear her voice inside her head, but to her- it still sounded like the little nine-year old girl she use to be, not the fifteen year old teen now.

She reminded herself each and everyday that what she had... was okay. She should be happy, but the more dreams she had the more often she found herself yearning for the ability to hear once more. The silence was deafening to her- it had to be for everyone else too, she realized.

But now, she had Sedatephobia. The fear of silence.

How could she be afraid of what she didn't hear? Silence was the absence of noise, but did that really count when she was constantly thinking? Constantly feeling the vibrations around her? How could she suddenly gain such a phobia, when... for the last six years of her life she had lived within silence? She had felt warm within its grasped, but not now. Never now. Honestly, how could she be afraid of what she was?

She was constantly running from the silence. Yet, all she remembered was silence.

She was always running, but it was tiring. Then. Then she met him. He was the same age as her, if not a bit older. He had such silky black hair that fell gracefully around his sharp cheek bones. She had run quite literally into him and as she tumbled down the hill she couldn't help but to stare into those deep blue eyes. He was memorizing, with fantasy creƤture like beauty.

Everything stopped. The world was not spinning anymore, the rain was not pelting her face, nor was the wind gusting past her body. She was being sheltered from everything by this lone man. This handsome man on top of her.

She sneezed.

His mouth twitched and then full belly laughter broke across his face. Gracing her with the white pearls hidden behind thin lips. She couldn't hear the sound, but his smile- his eyes dancing- those are what stole her breath away. She pulled her arm up from the ground and gingerly touched his lips, causing him to blink and stop laughing. No, she didn't want him to stop. It was beautiful, even if she couldn't hear it. She knew.

His lips were moving, his hand having come up and grasped hers inside his. She couldn't understand lips, she had tried a few years back and she wished she knew, but it never stuck. He knew something was wrong now, a frown was tugging downwards. She didn't like the way his brows furrowed, or the way his eyes darkened. It didn't suit him at all.

He tried saying something again, but she could not understand anything. She wanted to tell him she couldn't, but he held one of her hands inside his still. She needed both of her hands to sign and his hand was warm around hers.

As if coming to a decision, she pulled her hand gently from his and put hers together. Forming words with her hands was almost second nature now. She knew he understood the second his eyes flashed with an unknown emotion. He stared down at her hands in slight hesitation, she knew then that he could not understand sign language.

Dropping her hands uselessly down onto the wet soil beneath her, her body let out a soft sigh. It was useless. This man knew nothing about sign language and she knew nothing about spoken words

His brow was wrinkled again, his fingers gently pulling her to an upward position. They had sat there staring at each other, not knowing what to do. How were they going to say anything towards each other? It was impossible. She almost felt like an alien trying to learn a new language that (she had no doubt) she would never learn. He must have felt the same too. It was uncomfortable.

Then he pulled out a pen and paper.

With the cold rain pelting down on them and the wind gusting against their fragile human bodies, they both hunched over the silly paper that was acting like an interpreter. He wrote as beautiful as he, no doubt, sounded.

He was the first person.

His name printed on the old, water spotted paper. Eugene.

Her name printed beside his, Mai.

They both sat a ways from the cold lake, as a lone car whipped down the road in high speeds. They never noticed as its head lights gained distance between their chilled bodies. The only thing they saw were each others words dancing across the sopping wet paper held between them tightly.

Mai wasn't afraid of the silence anymore, as long as Eugene was beside her.

But the pain was horrendous. Mai heard Eugene scream beside her, as they were both ran over. The woman's cries of regret, the car door slamming shut, and the tires squealing one last time. Mai could hear the rain splashing down, hear her blood rushing and her heart slamming against her rib cage. She could hear the gurgle beside her and that of her own bloody gasps.

She could hear again, if only for a few seconds.

"P-plea.. se."

Then she felt her body being smashed again, though this time- she knew it was all over.

"Eu-gene."

"Mai."


AN: My computer decided it wanted to die on me, so I have to redo all of my writings for each story. Because of this, I have been trying to get as much done as possible.
Though, I tend to take breaks from each when I get inspiration... which is why I am now doing one-shot collections. This way I can take a break from the others and still continue to write. I promise I will have the others updated, but with everything deleted and work on top of everything I don't know when I will have the next chapter out for the two big stories I have. I have to complete three Tiers for CoDS by November 1st, so I will be busy for the next couple of months. If anyone has any questions you can mail me. :3 -KioAvium