Kingdom Hearts, what the fuck was I thinking?
Demyx's knuckles were deathly white as he clutched the steering wheel with both hands, crawling along at a pace that would surely give anyone following behind him a stroke. He could practically hear those hypothetical other drivers behind him, trying to let him know their opinion of his driving - "Fucking chicken!" "It's called snow, asshole, ever seen it before?" "Go back to Florida, moron!" "Get your ass in gear or get off the road!"
All right, calm down. Calm down. Deep breathing. Relax. Because I really - can't - afford - to have - a seizure - right - now.
I shouldn't be on the road right now. I should have gotten a room for the night at the resort. I shouldn't be driving at all - I should have gone home and gotten Axel to drive me. Except didn't Roxas say he was gone on a long mission? Finishing one for Luxord or something? Balls...
At least I'm way too keyed up to fall asleep at the wheel this time. Thin, thin, feeble comfort.
He glanced down at the dashboard involuntarily. Would turning the radio on distract him enough to forget how stressed-out he was and how very much he did not want to be on the road right now, or enough to forget what he was supposed to be doing and how to drive safely? What could he risk, one way or the other? Besides his life and the life of everyone else on the road? Was it more dangerous to drive distracted or utterly freaked out? "Utterly freaked out" seemed riskier, so with a shaking hand, he reached out and turned the radio on, then latched onto the steering wheel again without bothering to change the station, say, to one that actually had a signal. All he got was static from the speakers and feedback from his hearing aids - neither pleasant on their own, and even worse in combination. Cringing, he turned the radio off again quickly and started praying, which prayer consisted of the name of every god he could think of combined with the words get me out of here, with an occasional mention of don't let me have a seizure.
There weren't enough words between English, Hindi, and Mandarin to explain exactly how much Demyx hated winter driving. Put as simply as possible, it terrified him. It terrified him shitless. Doubly so after dark - all he could think of was one winter night, on a fairly simple mission with his two best friends, back when seizures were something that only happened to other people and he could still recognize himself in the mirror without having to remind himself who that was looking back at him...and he'd been tired, that was all, just too tired to keep his eyes pried open...he'd just shut his eyes for a second...and woke up a month later. Axel and Roxas were all right now, except for the inevitable scars, and Demyx had pretty much convinced himself that Roxas after the accident was the same as Roxas before the accident, not a clone or evil doppelganger or anything, but the man in the mirror still gave him trouble, and he still couldn't completely shake those fucking seizures.
I shouldn't be out here at all. There are reasons they have laws against epileptics driving. If I had a seizure behind the wheel right now -
No. I can't let myself think about that. The more freaked out I get, the more likely it is that I'll have a seizure.
He didn't even really remember what had caused that accident. He assumed he'd fallen asleep behind the wheel, but he might have just had the relevant memories wiped out by the head injury. He was outrageously lucky to have come around remembering who he was and what he did for a living, honestly. There might have been a deer in the road or something, or an oncoming car, or the tires might have slipped on the ice or something. Did whatever had caused the accident even matter? It was the effects he was living with on a daily basis...
I shouldn't be out here. I should never have even rented this stupid car. Snowboarding was fun, sure, but this...! The drive up in daylight was all right, but this is...I don't know how much longer I can stand it...
Oh...oh, thank all the gods, is that my exit? Yes...yes, it is...thank all the gods... Almost sick with relief, Demyx flipped his turn signal on and eased carefully into the exit lane. The agonizing drive was almost over...
It was just that he had the worst part to go. The back roads.
With a muffled sob, he turned onto the road back to the cabin and steeled himself. This was going to be miserable. And it was; every mile seemed to take an hour to travel, even though the speedometer always seemed to be reading so much higher than he thought was safe. In an agony of cold sweat and fear, he inched along the back roads, slamming on the brakes at every stray branch and shadow, until his entire body was shaking with terror. Finally, finally, after what seemed like the entire night, he crawled into the driveway, parked the car, unbuckled his seatbelt...and just sat in the car and cried. The whole experience had just been so nerve-wrackingly awful, he felt paralyzed. Even knowing that he was home safe at last couldn't quell the sheer terror. He could have died, he was sure of it, and he almost had so many times over, if not for the blessings of the gods, he would have died...
...I'm cold.
That realization was enough to jar him out of his paralysis of fear. Still trembling, with cold as much as terror now, he finally opened the car door and stepped out, exquisitely careful on the ice as he made his way to the front door of the cabin. It took him two tries to get the door open, and three tries to get the lights on once he was inside, but as soon as he had those two milestones out of the way, he ripped his boots off, all but jumped on the couch, and wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, curling up into a ball as he waited for the shivering to die down. He was still crying softly, but as the shivers died down, so did the tears, until he was calm enough to actually sit up and work his arm out from under the blanket to get the remote. Watching TV for a while would help get his mind the rest of the way off the pure hell the drive back had been.
...I made it.
The realization took a good half an hour after he walked in the door to filter through, but it was certainly welcome when it came. He'd made it - despite the horrid roads and the ugly weather and his own overwhelming fear, he'd made it. His nerves were shot, his body ached, and he was still cold, but he'd made it. He was safe. And hopefully, he wouldn't have to do that again.
...Come to think of it, I really didn't need to fall apart like that, did I.
Well, that was one benefit of driving alone. No one had been around to see it. Besides, it didn't matter all that much right now. All that mattered was, he'd made it.
AN: Number 9, Drive. Winter driving scares Demyx sick; see "Aftermath" for details.