A/N: Chapter three was rushed. I don't think it had chapter 2's depth. I'll try my best with four.
P.S Vaughn is supposed to be where Pinedale, WY is located.
Disclaimer: Mickey Mouse still owns Marvel.
Chapter 4: Fox on the Run
This is what he realizes: he's not in the Sunken Place anymore. Here, outside, it may be cold and brown and white and quiet, but its outside and its the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Outside means no narrow hallways enclosing him, no artificial lights because he can see stars—they're dim but that's alright—no prodding hands because he's alone out here. So he takes a step forward, feels the fresh snow, and he runs. Runs like its his only purpose, like he's made of the wind, like his life depends upon it because it does.
He doesn't care that he doesn't remember who he is, all he knows is that that which he left behind is bad business and he doesn't turn back. Even when it gets too cold, when he feels his heart pounding in his ears and ready to explode, when his lungs threaten to collapse, he doesn't stop moving. Even when his legs hurt, when his bare feet go numb, he doesn't stop running. He runs. And runs. And runs. His breath is now coming out in shallow gasps. The river is far behind him. He is climbing, but it seems these hills and mounds don't stop stretching into the horizon. He cries silently. His throat is too raw to emit sounds.
He doesn't remember how and when he ended up here. Has it been weeks? Hours? Days? Why does it feel like all he's known is running? Someone is shaking his shoulder. Tells him he's gonna be alright. He doubts it. He knows he's dying. Can feel the beat of his heart slow down, his whole body go limp. Breathing is torture. He's tempted to stop, but he can't. Something's keeping him alive, pumping his heart for him. And so, he lives.
Later, his eyes are forcefully opened, bright light searching them. Someone's hovering above him, saying something he couldn't hear. Why couldn't he hear? It feels as if he's deep in water, breathing but suspended. Its bright but not painfully bright. The air smells pleasant and the voices in his head have stopped. "Haloperidol..." Someone is saying. Its a giantess with flames on her head for hair and shining emeralds for eyes. Her voice echoes and bounces, so its like she's speaking twice.
Then he's sinking again, a strong current sucking him further down the drain. Its not unpleasant, not like the Sunken Place. So he let's himself sink and for the first time in a very long time, sleeps.
I don't wanna know your name
Someone's holding his hand. They whisper sweet nothings, stroking his hair.
You don't look the same
Lips kiss his forehead lovingly, gently. Tearstained cheeks rest on his.
You were alright before
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," a voice brokenly tells him.
I don't wanna know your name
"Please come back to me..."
He remembers long drives on sunny afternoons, picnics under a tree, walks on the beach. He remembers a curly haired woman chasing him, a man hoisting him on his shoulders. Camping nights under stary skies. Waves crashing against the shore, burning wood crackling and a hand lifting him up from down under. A blonde girl with her face against his, the two of them lying on green grass. A song playing over the radio.
"You're a fox on the run..." It takes him a while to realize the voice is his, raw with disuse, and that he's finally awake.
–Line Break–
A/N: My garbled version of Fox on the Run is why I'm apologizing for misusing the lyrics. Enjoy, R&R