Background: Technically, this is a sequel to "Make 'Em Smile" (found with my other works), part of the same universe... and maybe a couple of years later. There's a lot of story going on in my head, so if nothing makes sense... good! Completely inspired by Snow Patrol's "Run". Yeah, afraid my first thought after I heard the song was, "Hey, I know what fits this perfectly!" Sadly, sadly obsessed. But that's okay. It strikes me that this actually may not seem to gel with "Run", but... just trust me. Maybe this is a prequel to something... vast. I sure hope so.
This Mess
by Orin Drake
He'd clawed his way out of
the very depths of his own internal Hell just to stand there and look out
on a dark, destroyed world; a shattered thing that stood for a memory of
cold times... but better times. True, portions of him felt like crying.
But those portions hardly existed.
He closed his eyes against
the onslaught that the landscape before him brought on. So this...
this was what had become of the last place where he'd seen... them.
Yes, them. Not... not him, specifically.
Even lost within the Darkness...
he would not admit it. No, never. There was never a time when
the thoughts of... --No. That wasn't his strength. Not
his Light. Not his... intention. Kept safe, kept clean...
Liar. The voice
inside his mind ground furiously. Your weakness! It's your
weakness!
"Shut up." He growled,
mostly to himself. That voice had never left him, unfortunately.
But its influence had died the moment he'd realized how to take his soul
back. If he ever had a soul to begin with.
He'd known. He'd been
privy to it... to everything. The boy... his once best friend had
been... swallowed. Having walked the paths between Darkness and Light
for so long, he knew sometimes that he stumbled too far to one side or
the other. But he just happened to be knee-deep in the Darkness when...
He shook his head, electing
to forgo rest in favor of... moving. He had to keep moving, keep
going. To find those other worlds before they were all... like this...
Those eyes. It was
a thought he would have knocked out of his head were he feeling stronger.
In the situation, though... he let himself see it in his mind's eye, for
just a moment. Blue eyes... bluer than the ocean on the island...
bluer than twilight. And laughing. Always laughing...
Almost always.
The voice reminded him cruelly. There were... two times when you
caused him pain. Remember?
Fucking voice.
He kept uneasily to himself. Yes, of course. There was no way
he could ever have forgotten. The once, when he's run into the Keyblade
Master again... just a couple of years back, seeming like a million fragile
eternities... But that... that hadn't been his fault. It hadn't!
You deny your desires
again. The voice shredded his reserve easily.
"Shut up!" he cried
desperately.
The voice chuckled in his
head, but fell silent. It knew the truth... or whatever twisted version
it held as true.
He... had not desired
to do... that. No, that was... a horrible thing. He
wanted what came after... or almost did. There had been one scared,
fleeting moment... when all was right. When everything was... okay.
His fists balled tightly,
knuckles losing color. What he'd done to get that moment back...
But not just the moment, not merely the feeling of it... but the...
the friend that came with it...
If he were forced to admit
it to himself... Maybe there was a little more than... "friendship" there...
But he would not admit. And he would not think of it, let alone dwell
on it. He had to keep it close, safe, sacred, and away from the tainted
worlds he'd seen. And... created...
Shudders ran through his
body, but he would not stop. He'd walk forever, if he had to.
After what he'd been through... such a small portion of time as forever
would be a blessing.
Thoughts of long, long ago...
of the island, of the others... of the Door... of... of terrible things...
Yes. There had been two times when he hurt those blazing blue eyes.
And one had been when he had to close the Door. The sadness in that
gaze... dulled the eyes in his memory forever.
Until... "He came
for me." He whispered to himself. And he'd promised to come
back... but...
Shit happens.
The voice barked.
"I told you to shut the
fuck up." He hissed. When the voice remained silent, he fell
back into his thoughts. It didn't matter how many times he tried
to convince himself otherwise... how much logic he placed on top of the
problem. He alone felt responsible for... the fall. Those blue
eyes... blue no longer.
So hard... not to cry, honestly.
He wouldn't let himself, of course. That took too much effort, drained
too much energy. It was... so hard, though... thinking of Sora's
laughter. That pouting look... and that whine, sometimes. And
once... just once... a whispering voice... so warm, so heavy to his ear...
He shook his head violently,
picking up his pace. There was no way he could let the memories warm
him... or cool his blood. How... how could he keep going in the world
that had crumbled? And how would he ever be able to function with
the knowledge that the Keyblade Master was... empty?
Though, in one sense...
it wasn't as if he had a choice. He... needed Sora. He needed
to help the boy find his way back from the emptiness he'd been thrown into.
Regardless of what that may entail...
Fear. There was a
certain strength of fear an anxiety rushing through his veins... but maybe
that was a good thing. It'd keep him from fucking up again.
From getting lost again. Or manipulated. Or killed. If
it helped, if it was of any use at all... he'd take it upon himself.
He owed this much to the boy he remembered... and always would.
Shoulders forward.
Head back, gaze forward. Time to make up for all this mess.