RL sucks. AU. Liberties.
Part V: Beginning - Hei
He's standing, the glass before him cold and unmovable. It stretches on forever.
He is standing on the other side, too, but... not really.
Its the counterpart. The DreamWaker.
Him, how he could be, if he sacreficed his soul to the Quickening.
White-on-white hair, black-on-black eyes, without scars, without disease, without the worries of a mortal world.
A Quickener.
Almost a God.
The counterpart reaches a hand, perfect, pale like new snow (whiteonwhite) and pushes the glass.
The dream, the mirror wall (not a mirror a possibility a wall too thin to break) shatters into thousands of tiny shards, cut cut cutting...
He jerks awake, sweat slicking his skin, gripping his hair to his forehead, his breaths loud in the dark room. He brings a hand to his face and drags down, his skin catching the starlight from crooked quasi-plastic blinds. Paper-thin scars mar his flesh, from fingers to toes, and everything in between.
The only place untouched is his face.
The bathroom tiles are cold against his feet, the water colder still against his face, in his hair. He leans over the sink, spitting blood against the pseudo-marble of the basin. His eyes track up behind his bangs, and he almost (socloseyetsofar) screams, the image in the mirror (whiteonwhiteblackonblackperfect) not his own.
He blinks, and it is gone, leaving the too blue true eyes and the tannish skin and the scars.
He falls asleep to the sound of the spaceships gentle hum and the echo of falling glass.