Code Lyoko Whims of a Supercomputer
William bolted upright out of bed, grasping a sheet in one hand, sweat trickling down his back. He panted for air, desperately trying to claw free of something that had deeply scared him. He could only vaguely recall the nightmare, something about him running from a monster he couldn't see. After a few minutes, he decided it was likely just a passing dream.
But it wasn't.
William woke up again, this time after a particularly violent nightmare featuring some monster that could have come out of a Grimm steampunk fairytale. He shuddered, remembering the torn flesh caught in the gears of the wheels, a vivid red eye full of hate, and torn, mangled mouths. He dug out the bag of sketchbooks Odd had given him a few days ago after finding out he'd run out, taking one of the black bound ones with trembling hands. He reached for his pencil, left innocently on the desk, before sketching furiously. In the end it looked a complete mess, but he nervously began to darken in some lines and erase others, until he finally got what he was looking for. Upon properly seeing the mess of lines, he snapped it shut in horror, before nervously peeking at it. Nope, the image was still there, grinning grotesquely at him in a twisted grin. He closed it and silently prayed that it would be the end of these nightmares.
He didn't get what he wished for, and it wasn't long before his sketchbook was full of monsters, both real and not at all.
Odd glanced at the sullen, silent teenager as he moodily stabbed his potatoes, feeling uncannily reminded of Ulrich after the first mission to Lyoko. He settled comfortingly into William's side, offering his shorter friend a gentle hug. William managed a thin smile at him, before lapsing into a scowl at his potatoes.
Ulrich watched as after the club was over, William violently smashing his fists into the training dummies, hitting hard enough to scrape his knuckles against the firm wood interior. He shuddered slightly, not wanting to be on the wrong side of the raven-haired teen.
Yumi was surprised when William's normal conversations turned to one word answers and curt hellos. She simply pressed a small hand against his head, running her fingers through his hair, an act that was normally received with a slight whine and grumble, now met with silence and him leaning into her touch. Her worries deepened.
Aelita watched him discreetly, looking at his scowl, his lifeless demeanor, and she hugs him tight each day, hoping that Lyoko hasn't gotten to him somehow. But those lively eyes lost their spark, slowly but surely.
Jeremie was the one who found out his secret. William had begun to worry him, so one night he stayed up, acutely aware of William's rapid, shallow breathing from the other side of the wall. As he was about to drift off to sleep, a heartbreaking scream rang from William's side of the wall. Jeremie sat bolt upright, listening intently, hearing nothing through the thin wall but ragged sobbing and two words.
"Please . . . stop."
The next morning, Friday in fact, Jeremie sat across from William's room, waiting for him to leave. At precisely seven, William exited his room, stopping at the sight of Jeremie as he stood up. A small black sketchbook fell from fingertips, and Jeremie caught it, deliberately not looking at it. William takes it back, clutching it to his chest like a hateful but needed burden. Jeremie walks every step with him to the lunchrooms, offering his support in silence. William looks at him silently, but he says nothing, pressing a hand to his shoulder and squeezing tight. That brings a ghost of a smile to his face, and William finally fingers the sketchbook, before shoving it into his hands, cheeks burning with shame. Jeremie puts it in his bag.
"Later," Jeremie tells him firmly, taking his hand and leading him to the cafeteria. "Later, I'll look at it." He feels William relax and sigh in quiet relief, and he tightens his grip, grimly wondering if everything they cared for would break like William did.
After breakfast, William napped on the bench, his head resting on Jeremie's thigh as the youngest of the Lyoko warriors perused the depths of his hated sketchbook. Jeremie went through every page, taking care not to jolt the poor teen as he read, his despair growing ever stronger.
I'm a monster. There has to be something really wrong with me to dream these things. What's wrong with me?
This caption was under a picture of William, staring blankly in the mirror. Most of his face was obscured by the darkness, but what was there was terrified, the only color the very pale pink flush on his cheeks. Jeremie ran his fingers through William's hair.
"You're no monster," Jeremie whispers, and the slightly tense body relaxes all at once, as if William could see him reading this, even in his sleep. Jeremie finished going through the sketchbook before calling everyone, his fingers trembling as he dialed.
Another precious item is broken, only this time it is far more delicate and exquisite than glass.
It was nearing eight, and William just wished someone would talk. Finally, Odd wrapped his arms around him, murmuring a quiet apology. William breaks then, with an imperceptible shattering of his fears. He cries, curling into Odd's arms, feeling them rock him as he tearfully breaks down and begs for forgiveness.
That night, he goes to bed. And for the first time in a long while, he sleeps without dreams.
The next morning, William sat with Aelita, watching the brittle girl hum and sway left to right, her hair rippling slightly. She smiles at him, fragile and apologetic. He says nothing, but takes her hugs with some grade of comfort. William is quiet, nervous, and afraid to speak. Aelita spend that day with him, her fingers running through his hair for most of the morning. They rejoin the rest around ten, and there is no teasing, no joking as William is told everything. He hazily remembers his own part.
He remembers sparks from wires as he cuts their connection to the bomb with an axe.
Sissi being smashed into a wall while defending the children stuck in the Gym with him.
Shaking as he jumps from the roof of one building to the next as his first monster chases after him.
William looks up at them in sympathy, knowing that he too will be tasked with remembering what was better left alone, and he forgives them.
There's little change to his routine, though he now spends some of his free afternoons with Aelita, his fingers running through the maps that she pulls up. She watches him trace paths with his fingertips, silent with curiosity.
I have changed
I have changed
William sits with Ulrich later, watching intently as Ulrich practices, seeing him more as a curve of life, of violent protection. He watches as Ulrich drives his fist into stone, breaking it.
No shadows
Just red lights,
now I'm here to rescue you
Odd balances his body on his hands, pushing up to spin in the air and land on the wooden beam with his feet, preforming a spectacular backflip off the beam, breathing rapidly. He turns away from it, flipping backwards over and over, until he can fly over the metal.
You're screaming
you're screaming
Cover up with a smile I've learned to fear
Yumi practices with some old wooden fans, spiraling in a slow circle.
Come fire
Come fire,
Let it burn and love come racing through
Jeremie sits with him, fingers flying over the keyboard as William watches him in quiet curiosity. He sees Lyoko, and for once, he admires it.
I will move fast
I will move slow
Take me where I have to go
He faintly smiles, his lips tipped into a slight grin.
I'm still alive
I'm still alive
I can't apologize no
He stepped into the scanner, watching it close around him slowly.
I'm still alive
I'm still alive
They ended up in frosted tundra, sinking deep into snow as it crunched under their feet. William glances around, nervous until Jeremie's voice comes over the intercom that he has in his ear.
"William," Jeremie's voice is a soothing sound. "We're here." He almost sags in relief, but holds himself off long enough to look around, spotting a dark blur as it speeds towards him. He wishes he had a weapon, and just as suddenly as his thought, a heavy-looking scythe appears in his hands. He stares at it incomprehensibly, but holds it ready to strike, feeling completely alone. The blur stops, and Ulrich appears suddenly, standing there with a soft smile. William tentatively pokes at him with the weapon, and Ulrich allows him to, eyes sparkling with amusement that quickly frosts over. With Ulrich by him, he tentatively sidles to his side, allowing Ulrich to look him over. Ulrich glances down and takes note of his bare feet. William shrugs, not sure himself as he actually takes a look at himself. He's dressed in white, white, and white. There isn't a scrap of color on his clothes, and his weapon is made of some sort of gray glass. He admires Ulrich's tattoo while they wait for the others, seeing deep gouges and jutting bits of ice littering the ground around them. When Ulrich's fingertip touches his cheek, William nearly skewers him, still very jumpy at the whispered scuttling of metal feet all over the ice. He trembles slightly, letting him trace whatever it is on his face with silent trepidation.
"You look nice," Ulrich says finally, softly as he looks to the west, where the sun is setting in the distance, staining blue ice red and gold and pink. Yumi lands next, followed shortly by Odd and Aelita. "Is everyone ready to go?" Ulrich asks solemnly, receiving four nods in response. "Good. William, stay close to me." William obeys. He follows Ulrich as they ran towards one of the many gateways in the west. It was a smooth run, and William was luckily able to match Ulrich pace for pace, though he kept slightly behind him as to better slow down. A quiet groan came from the ground beneath him, so William and the others put on a quick burst of speed to end up near Ulrich, just in time to avoid falling into a sudden chasm. It groaned and screeched, the ice being devoured quickly by a massive monster as its jaws snapped shut. It gave a lonely-sounding whine before receding into the depths of the heavy mist. William shivered.
This was hell.
Scratch that, this was worse than hell.
William arrived to that conclusion no less than four seconds after he fought his first monster. It was tiny, faceless, and very pale, save for its one eye, giving the impression of a PVC bodysuit torn open on its body, with a jagged scar appearing on its face. Where its tiny legs meet into its sort-of torso, it squelches into bloody, pus-infected flesh. The mouth area tears open to scream, the small opening filled with layers upon layers of metal and jagged circuitry. It barely starts when William cuts it through, red splattering over his pale-colored clothes. The red sunk into his blade, and it glows on his body. He was afraid to open his mouth, so he simply shuddered, feeling Ulrich wipe away the liquid on his lower face. He says nothing, simply nodding at them to continue. They go on, and more of the Kankrelat horde swarms towards them. William lifts his scythe, and he swallows, fighting the urge to throw up. He is startled by a laugh, before he realizes it was him.
He's sure they think him crazy, but it's how he copes, how he always copes with horrible things. He quickly racks up a body count to rival Ulrich's, tearing through swathes of them with his scythe. They enter the nesting grounds, William plastered with blood all over his body. He is silent, following his mentor's gentle instructions as they lead up to the tower. By this point, William's weapon is a solid red, glowing more vividly than the sun. It pulses eagerly at the tower, which responds with a blue pulse of light in return. The others are shoved back; William stops, glancing back at them. They cannot get any closer, and he cannot go back to their side. He wonders why briefly, before a thin tendril of rotting flesh winds around his waist.
She's pretty, William decides hazily, observing her thin, gradient green-to-purple flesh. She's even prettier dead, black liquid spattering over his scythe and hair. Ulrich is by his side in an instant; but he doesn't notice, watching Aelita enter the tower. The rest of the trip is a dazed blur, and his focus only returns when they leave.
That's when what he's done catches up to him.
He's the first out of the scanner, throwing up in the trash can as the others exit and find their way to him, their hands running through his hair and reassuring him that they were alright, that what he had done was forgivable.
He'd never say it, but he didn't agree with them. Not at first. He ends up in Jeremie's dorm, the group of teens piled on the large bed that the genius somehow managed to wheedle out of the school. He curls into himself, trying to convince himself that it was all just a horrible, horrible, nightmare as the others pile around him, their voices washing away the fear.
He doesn't succeed. Not at first. And then he wonders if he ever did, years after this is all over.
The song is 'Still Alive' from the Mirror's Edge.
