Disc: I don't own Max Steel, or the song. I'm profiting from neither.
Don't ask, I dunno where this came from either.
Rated PG-13 for language/situation. Danger Will Robinson, this fic contains slash. Nothing terribly traumatizing (except the pairing, of course, but hey, it's just the morning after, you're not walking into a lemon here.)
Dread the Morning
by Alhazred
madarab20@hotmail.com
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up I can not see
That there is not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me
Back in the womb it's much too real
In pumps life that I must feel
But can't look forward to reveal
Look to the time when I'll live
Fed through the tube that sticks in me
Just like a wartime novelty
Tied to machines that make me be
Cut this life off from me
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, wake me!
Now the world is gone I'm just one
Oh God, help me!
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please, God, help me!
---from One by Metallica
---
Oh my God.
...that's the only coherent thought I've had for so long, it's not funny. I've been lying here awake for an hour. At least, I think it's been an hour, it was pitch black then and now dawn is starting to show through the windows. I haven't been looking forward to the sunrise, it means I can see and look... in darkness, there is strength.
I don't think I could move if I wanted to, not from here. Not moving means I delay the inevitable. Of course, I'm so tense I could be classified as one large cramp... but that doesn't bother me.
You know, I take it back. It is funny, in a pretty twisted way. I'm sure there are others who would think so. Psycho, maybe. I wonder if Dragonelle would be jealous?
I doubt my teammates would find this funny. No, the irony wouldn't go over their heads, and I don't see any of them being homophobic. But I'd rather face that then what they'd say to... this. I'd rather struggle to explain I don't swing that way and this is something else entirely. Would they feel betrayed? I sure as Hell know I feel like I betrayed them. And let's not forget yours truly, I most certainly betrayed myself. I don't even have an excuse. Not even the old "we were drunk" nonsense. I wasn't drunk, he wasn't drunk, and I went along just fine with it... it seemed like a good idea at the time.
That doesn't matter. I'll be damned if I ever tell them. Until he decides to taunt me in a fight with this, throw me off balance... but would he do that? The scary thing is, I'm not so sure he would. And I almost wish I knew he would, because it would be so much less complicated if it meant nothing. But it did. Love? No, thank God. I don't think I could deal with that if it went that far. Friendly rivalry? Gimmie a break, if you call us 'friendly,' you need help of the padded cell kind. Who knows, I might be there myself shortly.
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Maybe it's as simple as that. I don't know, and I'm a bit too fried to deeply analyze the situation right now. There's that part of me wondering if he's going to kill me if I'm still here when he wakes up. Can you blame me? Another part wants him to. And the rest is scared to death of what happens if he doesn't.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, he just used me. Needed his own personal toy for one night and doesn't care anymore. Except scumbags like him don't take it seriously if that's the case. They'd be done in five minutes, left a few bruises, roll over, fall asleep, and won't call afterwards. Because it doesn't mean anything.
But it did.
Maybe I'm not the best at making sense of these things, but if you can say you made love instead of having a quickie, I'd wager a guess that it meant something. When you meet him on the street by pure chance and he doesn't provoke you, when he doesn't want to kill you now and save the trouble for later when you're trying to stop him and one of his schemes... when this starts happening.
That was it; that was the tip-off. That he wanted Josh McGrath, not Max Steel. That he couldn't possibly care less who we were and wanted the real me. The most unnerving thing about it is his mindset. Either he's the coolest head on the Earth, or he's as good at faking it as I am in the event of having to deal with ludicrous amounts of emotional problems.
Funny, I'm not ashamed to admit I actually enjoyed it. It's how I feel like I'm covered in dirt right now that gets to me. I wonder if that'll stick or if it'll go away when his arms aren't wrapped around me. From behind, of course. I'd long since rolled over; put me in a fight with the bastard and I could stare him down easily.
But it's kind of hard when you're in bed, in John Dread's arms... no, I couldn't look him in the eye if my life depended on it. I doubt I'll be able to look Dad in the eye for awhile, either.
And... and I'm going to tell them all about this, too. I guess I am damned. God help me, I'm not strong enough to keep this one bottled up. I can't be alone for this. I can't be the only one dealing with it, as selfish as that sounds. If I don't tell them, it'll be worse then remembering it every time I'm looking over Berto's shoulder at the computer, or going over a mission with Rachel. It'll be remembering that I betrayed them.
I don't think for a second that they won't feel that way, at least at first. You don't say "I just had sex with our worst enemy" and expect them to feel anything else. But I can hope, I can pray they won't hold it against me for long, that'll they'll trust me when I say it has nothing to do with N-Tek or Dread's little troupe. I mean, they're my friends, right? ...right?
Right. They are. I can't, I won't believe otherwise, not now. They'll still be angry, but they'll be there for me, when they realize I'm just as much a wreck from this... if not more so. Screw that, I will be worse off. I'm the one who slept with him.
Heh, I can just see Dad's head thunk-ing onto his desk and telling someone he's having the parenting crisis to end 'em all, Berto letting me cry on his shoulder and making an off-hand comment that the mental picture is really disturbing. Heh, no kiddin' Bro, and I'm part of that picture. I suppose it doesn't help that Dread's old enough to be my father, either.
He moved, ever so slightly. Oh my God, he's awake, I thought. How long had he been awake? As long as I was? A minute? I felt his breath on my neck, I could see him smiling. And he just whispered to me.
"Don't fear."
He'd said that already, when he... when we'd...
I didn't move, I didn't want him to know that I did. For all I knew, he has a knife an inch away from my neck. Hell, for all I knew, he was telling me not to fear death. I must've tensed up
"You think I'm going to kill you, don't you?"
There he goes again, never missing a beat. Am I that tense?
Two can play the calm game. "The thought had crossed my mind," I answered back, not moving.
"Heh."
And that was it. Bastard. I swear I'd feel so much better if I knew he was wondering what drugs he'd taken to get into this.
A few more minutes passed, after which he let go of me to roll over and check the clock. "Hmmm. Getting late... we should leave."
He was right, I'd have to be at N-Tek soon. Apparently, he had his own obligations for which lateness was not an option. And he did leave, without another word.
Well, that part hadn't been as hard as I thought it'd be, at least.
~Fin~
...I can't believe I just wrote that. Someone shoot me.
Anyway, the song isn't meant to be interpreted too literally in relation to this (Josh isn't suicidal, for instance,) but I thought it represents him pretty well and it's depressing, so of course it would go along with something angst filled. I debated for awhile on whether to leave it like this or make it a songfic, I think it works better like this.
The ref list:
The lines "in darkness, there is strength" and "don't fear" are taken from Star Trek: Nemesis.
