Turn back, turn back from this cave,
you said let me prove that I'm brave,
let me keeping going,
but the cave goes for miles and miles and miles, and you're so tired,
but I know that you're strong, so turn back, turn back
Prologue
It was never exactly like waking up. Parts of him were still conscious, self-aware of the shifting tectonic-plates that were the basis of Roxas' fragile mental state. He just felt himself slip back into place, as if he'd recently been suspended in a state of purgatory. Unplugged and disconnected, only to be restarted. He groaned in the back of his throat, esophagus burning raw from a source he couldn't recall, but was certain was alcohol. He flexed fingers, digging into the snow beneath him as he rolled on his side to cough and dry-heave, saliva mixing with blood on freshly fallen snow. There was no glory to be found at the bottom of the barrel and the male knew this as he wiped a mixture of blood, saliva, and snot from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Not again."
He choked on the words, voice foreign and distant as he forced himself to stand on weak legs. Disorientated wasn't a strong enough word to explain just how truly out of realm the blond was feeling. He had no idea what day it was, where he was, or even how he'd gotten here. It was a mystery laid to rest somewhere deep within his brain meant for someone else. To top it off, everyone had their mouths shut, as if they were holding onto some secret he wasn't privy to. The more scenarios he constructed, the more the panic and bile rose in his stomach, coating his spongey esophagus in stomach acid that he hoped would eat away at his flesh until he was nothing more but a puddle of blood mixing with melting snow. He wanted to vomit, but couldn't. There was nothing in him that he could dispose of.
Wide-eyed and falling into the familiary of panic, Roxas scanned his surroundings in search of something vaguely familiar. A sign that he'd been here before, but it didn't come. He was on the side of a stretch of high-way that undoubtedly lead to bumfuck nowhere. In desperation, he willed his legs to cooperate with his brain, pushing himself to walk down the paved road least he freeze to death.
With no concept of time, he wasn't sure how long he'd been walking down the road when he finally stumbled upon a gas station. The building served as a beacon, a testament to the fact that Roxas hadn't awoken during the apocalypse, and that, yes, humanity was still alive and well. He quickenedd his strides until he was practically jogging, pulling open the front-door in time with an ear-splitting chime above head that signaled a customer. He was greeted with a wave of heat, relief settling in his frozen and stiff joints.
"Jesus, kid, I've seen road kill that looked better than you."
Roxas looked at the man who sat behind the counter for the first time since entering, and then to the security monitor above his head that was displaying Roxas reflection. The gas attendant had a point, half of Roxas face was an explosion of lilacs and blood had congealed where his microscopic side-burns began. He could even make out a distinct hand-print bruising around his neck. It didn't hurt, though, because the injuries didn't really belong to him. It did, however, make him sick to his stomach. His thoughts raced until he swallowed hard.
"Can you tell me how far away from Seton, Minnesota I am?" Roxas spoke through flaring nostrils, bottom-lip quivering around each punctuated syllable. He had to clasp his hands together in order to stop them from shaking, flexing fingers and cracking knuckles all in a vague attempt to keep the impending panic attack at bay.
"Minnesota? Well, I'd say you're about fifteen hundred miles away." The man frowned, arching a brow, "You're in Vermont, kid. Must've been a 'helluvah night if you ended up here." The man raised his brows, surprisingly nonplused by Roxas' current disposition, as if he'd seen worse. And, judging by the bars on the front window, he probably had.
Roxas felt himself slipping again, psychosomatic twitch predating the oncoming invasion, but he gritted his teeth until his jaw popped, "Do you have a phone I could use?"
"Yeah, there's a payphone out back."
Back out in the cold, the sun had disappeared behind thick gray-cloud that rolled in with a frigid breeze. Roxas inhaled sharply, wrapping arms around his torso in a futile attempt to keep the cold at bay. Walking along the perimeter of the gas station, he found the pay-phone in question. In a fluid motion, he plucked the phone off the hook, and after finding quarters buried deep in the recess of his pockets, he popped them in the slot before dialing. Only to hang up. He flinched at the clatter of coins falling into the coin return slot. He closed his eyes and breathed, pressing the reciever to his forehead as he mustered the courage necessary to make the call. He repeated the process, but this time with success. As the phone rang he felt the heat of tears building up at the corners of his eyes, teeth pulling at loose skin on his bottom lip.
"Hello?"
He exhaled sharper than he intended, creating static in its wake. A tear slipped down his cheek as he heard the familiar voice of his cousin on the other line, eyes closing tightly before popping open once more. His throat felt thick with mucus and he had to swallow before speaking through shaky breaths, "Hey, Namine," Roxas paused, taking another moment to survey his surroundings, "it's me."
"Oh my god, Roxas?! Where are you? Your mother has been freaking out!"
He could hear the tension in his cousin's voice, a melting-pot of emotions high-lighting the girl's genuine fear over his whereabouts and mental state. Out of everything, this was always the hardest part for him. He could take most things in stride, but the burden he was to his family what was what really wore him down.
"It's happening again, Nam. I'm—"Roxas paused, grip tightening around the receiver, "I'm in fucking Vermont right now. I can't remember anything. Not a god damn thing." He breathed out, realizing he'd been holding his breath through his last statement.
And when his cousin put him on hold, demanding that he stay on the line while she retrieved his mother, he filled the silence with an agonizing cry that came from somewhere deep within.
Author's Note: This is a rewrite of 'Endless Ladder' under the same username.