a/n: this fic is angsty and depressing and will not bring you much fluff or comfort so don't say I didn't warn you.

and on a more serious note, this fic is about penryn struggling with derealization, which is a mental illness where your brain detaches you from your surroundings. it's most commonly caused by trauma and can be the cause of depression and anxiety or it can be a symptom of depression and anxiety. idk there isn't much research on it and it's counterpart, depersonalization. But anyway, I've struggled with it for the past four years and lately it's been getting worse so idk if this is me trying to cope or something but I wrote this at 4 am this morning so make of that what you will

also: I know it's my fic and I can do what I want, but I always feel weird when I write something about penryn that relates so much to me because even though I sometimes want to be penryn, I know that I'm not penryn. y'know? and I don't want to write her ooc. so I'm just going to justify this whole thing by mentioning that penryn def disassociates in world after during the aerie fight and after the attacks in the water. and because this author note is already very long I will mention my headcanon that raffe just wants to take care of penryn, like not in an overbearing way, but because he knows that no one else has taken care of her since her dad left her. idk I really like hurt/comfort.

godspeed

The human mind has one of three reactions to stress. Fight, which I am very familiar with, and flight, which I am also no stranger to.

And then we have freeze.

Freeze, which is meant to help you endure terrible situations, protect you. Help you by pulling you out mentally. Pulling you out of the situation, your body, the moment.

But the moment is over. The moment has been over for a while now. But my mind is still reacting, still freezing. It's still reacting constantly.

The apocalypse is over; I got my happy ending with Raffe and my family. I should be celebrating in the streets, being happy. But I can't help but feel that none of this is real. Instead of moving on, pulling myself together, rebuilding my world, I'm walking through a dream land.

I fall asleep in Raffe's arms only to be awakened in my nightmares, only to wake up to fog and be detached from my surroundings again, always far far away from where I want to be. Some days are better and some days are worse.

Regardless, time keeps moving.

Raffe pulls me from sleep with soft kisses to my neck, a hand against the bare skin of my stomach. My body reacts immediately; goosebumps tingling where his mouth moves up my jawline. I turn my head and his lips meet mine in a lazy kiss.

And I kiss him back. Oh god, I want to kiss him back. But I can't feel the electricity that I know is still there. So I kiss him back; my body is into this, my heart is into this, but the dazed look in my eyes when he pulls away is all he needs to see. And I know it's not the dazed look of a good kiss; it's the dazed look of the girl you fell in love with is trapped behind the cloud of her mind.

Raffe tugs me against the warmth of his body, tucking my head into his neck. It's delayed, but I feel myself relax in his arms. I breathe in the scent of him, trace his skin for the feel of him, remind myself that this is real. All of this is real.

It doesn't help me focus on the moment.

A flicker of anger rises in me. Anger at how I can't just enjoy the warmth of sunlight against my skin anymore, or the feeling of cool sheets on my bare skin, or even the goddamn feeling of Raffe holding me in his arms.

Raffe squeezes my shoulder and I sigh.

Thermo meets me at my car when I get to the old high school that the Resistance is using as a base, just like he does almost every morning, for no other reason than company. I don't even say good morning, just nod to acknowledge him. He leans against my passenger door as I strap my still-disguised sword on my back and grab my mug of tea.

"That's some mighty angry music you're listening to this morning." He notes as we head toward the entrance. It wasn't a question; it was just a quiet statement, probably to make conversation even though we have no trouble just enjoying the silence together.

I just shrug and continue.

We pass the same people we pass every morning. People I know, people I'm in charge of. But something just isn't right. I don't necessarily have a foggy vignette around my vision but it feels like I do. The fog is so heavy today. I can't possibly act like I care about everyone today. I just can't focus.

I put on a cold mask. I don't have to care, to be empathic or polite. Today I will act like I'm on a mission, determined. I don't know what that mission is, but if it will get me through the day, so be it.

We turn down the hallway that contains all of the important meeting rooms, away from the throng of people socializing near the main entrance.

"Are you okay today?" Thermo asks, his voice is a bit distant, but maybe that's just me.

I take a deep breath because they know I'm struggling. Everyone close to me knows that I'm constantly fighting my mind for control, even sweet Paige who keeps reminding me that even though I'm not really myself doesn't mean I'm any less. But none of them can really help me snap out of it. Telling them just makes them pity me.

I nod to myself more than anything but Thermo looks at me with concern in his face. We've come to stop where we have different duties and need to be different places. I bite my lip.

"I-" and I'm definitely not imagining the distant sound of my voice, "-don't know."

His eyes soften and he gives me a pat on the back.

I give him a bit of a helpless look before I turn down the next hall.

Later that evening, Raffe finds me nursing a mug of hot tea and a book on the couch while listening to soft, sad music. I'm not processing any of the words my eyes cross over but I think it's better than being alone in my head. I think the warm mug in my hand is giving me a sensation to stay grounded to.

Raffe pulls my legs into his lap as he sits on the cushion next to me. A hand runs down my thigh as my eyes meet his. They are so blue, so worried, and so full of love. I normally would squirm under this gaze. But now I stare back, with a slack jaw and a look of helplessness. He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off before he can say anything.

"Please don't ask me how my day was because I honestly can't tell you. I can tell you that I feel numb right now. I can tell you that I feel like I need to cry but I just can't," He's running his fingers through my hair now, caressing my jaw, "and I kind of feel like kicking someone's ass because I'm just so angry and I think that'll make me feel better."

Raffe let's go on my hair and drops my gaze to stroke my legs again, "Okay," He says nodding to himself before looking at me again.

"How about this? You keep doing what you were doing before I got here, and I'll make dinner and run you a bath if you'd like," his hand is cupping the side of my knee and his thumb is rubbing circles right above it, "or, we can go up on the roof and you can punch me as many times as you need to, and then a bath, and then dinner.

"Whatever you want," He adds. He's so earnest I can't stand it.

"I don't want to be alone," I tell him.

His eyes lighten to the challenge and he pulls me up from the couch, nearly sloshing tea all over me. He pauses to give me a smirk.

"But you know I'm not going easy on you."

"Oh, you've been trying to go easy on me?" I try the banter.

Raffe bends to nip at my jaw and mutter something about how insufferable I am before guiding me to the roof.

The physical exertion helps. Endorphins jostle me and adrenaline surges through. It allows me to actually be angry, to actually release it.

As soon as Raffe sees some of the fire return to my eyes, or rather feels the electricity slipping under my skin, he releases me from his death grip around my chest and shoulders and holds out his palms for me to punch.

I finally stop when I can't physically go on anymore.

Raffe pulls me into his warmth, silently telling me that he'll be here no matter what, that I'm not alone. Sacrificing for me even though he suffers from his own tragedies.

In the midst of it all, warm, wet tears find their way down my face and onto his shoulder. I find myself shaking, gasping, and grasping for something to ground me. Raffe finds me first, his hands firm on my body, pressing me deeper into him.

"It's okay," He whispers into my hair, "I'm here. I'm right here."

I nod because I know he is. He wants to help. He is helping. If only my mind would realize that and let me sort through my trauma until it's nothing but a faint memory. But for now, I nod because I know he'll find a way to help me through this and we will get through this.