Fran is running. Trees fly past him in a blur and their branches reach out to cut his face. He can't stop, not with them behind him. They weren't far away, gaining on him, despite how fast he was running. Fran didn't dare to look behind him, knowing their terrifying forms were laughing at his attempt to escape them.
Fran could almost see the edge of the forest, knowing he would escape if he could reach there spurred him on. He was close, so very close, when something grabbed him around the ankle, dragging him backwards with horrifying force. Fran sobbed, futilely trying to dig his fingers into the dirt. Bone chilling cackles started from behind him, growing louder each minute. Fran started to beg, "Please, oh god, anything but this!"
Raspy laughter answered his pleas and he was flipped onto his back, forced to look at the beings who caught him. Their black cloaks fluttered in the non-existent wind, in the middle of them was the Vendice arcobaleno. Bermuda leaned down close to him, chains whipping wildly, and whispered into his ear, "There's nowhere to run now illusionist."
Fran cried out in pain as Bermuda's chains wrapped around his neck, immobilising him. The chains burned, they always did, and a part of Fran's mind always wondered, why? Was it because of the night flames that burned so fiercely or was it a material in the chains. The chains, collar, tighten and Fran is left gasping for air, on his knees before his enemy. Tears pool into his eyes as Bermuda smirks, his comrades behind him silently watching. The chains completely cut off his airway and the last thing Fran hears before he collapses is Bermuda speaking malevolently.
"Fran, mist of the Varia. I will hunt you down as my prey, and when I find you, you will suffer by my hand in agony."
XXXXXX
Fran jolted upwards, tears pouring down his face and his breath came in stuttered gasps. He grabbed at his neck, slightly raised skin was felt under his fingertips, and breathed out slowly. Fran lay back on his bed attempting to quell the rising panic that was engulfing his chest. The room was pitch black and even though he knew the Vindice weren't surrounding him, it wasn't helping his anxiety. A flick of his wrist and will created a light floating above his ceiling, and Fran sighed gently.
It wasn't often this dream came about but when it did, Fran could never get back to sleep. Hopefully it was somewhat close to morning, otherwise it would be a long night of silence that he didn't think he could handle right now. Fran searched for his phone to see the time, it took a few minutes to discover it hiding under the covers. He switched it on and muttered a quiet curse as the numbers 1:16 glowed in his face.
It would be another five hours until anyone in the house would wake up. Considering it was a Friday, that meant Squalo would be up first, not an ideal person to talk to about his nightmare. Memory, a traitorous part of Fran's mind murmured to him. The illusionist sighed and placed his no longer active phone on the bedside table. Shuffling out of bed, Fran decided very quickly that it would be prudent to have a shower and change before attempting anything else. The spot he had been laying was drenched in sweat and his pyjamas were beginning to itch from the drying sweat.
A quick, warm shower later and Fran was dressed in some new clothes and sitting on his bed. Since the others weren't going to be up for a while, he had decided to wear a long sleeve shirt. This was rather unusual as Fran made sure to never reveal his neck to others because of the marks around his neck. Not out of shame, panic most definitely, but he didn't want the others to blame themselves for not being there to protect him.
Fran, seeing as it was nearing two, decided to head down to the first level of the mansion to get a drink from the kitchen. Thankfully, his room was quite close to the stairs, and he only had to brush past Levi and Lussuria's rooms to reach them. Knowing the mansion like the back of his hand was useful since he could use this knowledge to avoid any creaky floorboards like a pro.
Gazing into the fridge, Fran grabbed the apple juice carton and poured it into his glass. Picking it up, he walked into what you could call the living room. It had champagne painted walls and brown couches that gathered near the television. Fran never knew why this was the colour scheme since it didn't really match the rest of the house, but it did create a rather comfortable air. Perhaps that was why.
The lights were on, although dimmed significantly, and Fran gazed out the window opposite the couch he was sitting on. It was pitch black outside, making Fran feel rather jumpy as it reminded him of the (Forest. Terror. Run.) well, that. He knew he had PTSD because of what happened that day, but he couldn't say anything. Couldn't get help. Because the Varia would undoubtedly find out, leading to them knowing how it was created and he couldn't do that to them. Before Fran knew, the glass was drained of juice and he had nodded off on the sofa.
This had never happened before since Fran would never be able to sleep for fear of the dreams (Memories) starting again. What the illusionist didn't know is that the juice had been soaked in rain flames by Squalo when he noticed that his subordinate wasn't getting enough sleep. Since only Fran drank the juice, and only during the night, it was a foolproof way of getting the mist to sleep longer.
XXXXXX
Fran's brain was muddled when he woke up the first time. He felt calm, still tired to boot, and whined when the noise around him went up a notch. The noise suddenly hushed at the sound of his voice before breaking out into whispers. Without opening his sleep crusted eyes, Fran flared his mist flames. A cold hand touched his bare cheek, activating sun flames and making him feel warm inside. Satisfied the people around him weren't going to harm him, he rolled onto his side and went back to sleep.
The second time Fran woke up, it was less muddled than previously, but still just as calm. Squalo's flames, Fran hazily realised, were still a low burning in his stomach. From what he could recall before, the noise was substantially less, much to his relief. The combined rain and sun flames in his system made him feel rather out of it, and Fran didn't want to be bombarded with noise from his famiglia- they were perhaps the loudest group he knew! And why were they in his room anyway, normally they would yell at him to get up. His flames shifted minutely, as Fran tried to recall what happened last night. The dream. Couch. Black night sky.
Fran bolted upwards in hastily formed adrenaline but couldn't move anywhere as he was pushed back down by a pale hand. "You're awake, took you a while sweetie." Lussuria said as he sat down beside the still disoriented mist. "It's nearly three, you've been sleeping the whole day."
Fran yelped, "What! Why didn't you wake me up?"
Lussuria frowned gently, "You ingested quite a high amount of rain flames that kept you asleep until lunch. You did wake up around twelve, but you went back to sleep rather quickly. You're a very heavy sleeper you know."
Fran grimaced at all the lost time before twisting his hands in his shirt, a nervous habit he hadn't managed to shake. He froze and looked down in panic. He was wearing a shirt that didn't cover his neck, meaning they saw. Fran choked, air rapidly descending in a swoosh. How could he be stupid enough to fall asleep on the goddamn couch. Now they had seen, and they would know and-
Fran lost all awareness of his surroundings. The walls loomed in front of his eyes, making him shut his eyes tightly. Oh god, he couldn't breathe. His heart was being squeezed, beating so fast he was surprised he wasn't having a heart attack. Fran felt sick and before he could move, started to vomit over himself. There wasn't much in his stomach, only the apple juice making a reappearance. But the stomach acid burned his tightened throat, and he just couldn't stop dry heaving.
Muffled sobs somehow made their way out of his throat. There were arms around him, rocking him tenderly, but it didn't help. He could feel his part of the bond quivering and shaking distantly but not even his sky's flames sent through the bond helped. His saviour came in the form of brilliant blue flames, engulfing his entire body, making him go limp in the arms holding him. Fran felt woozy, whether that was because of the flames or cut of oxygen was up for debate.
The boneless illusionist soon became aware of the noises that were happening around him, specifically the words Lussuria and Squalo were directing towards him. "You're alright sweetheart, we've got you." Lussuria comforted him.
Squalo made a noise of agreement, focusing on the effect his flames were having. Fran pitifully groaned, his fingers were tingling uncomfortably, and his limbs felt heavy. "Hey Fran, I need you to nod if you can understand us, alright?" Squalo said gently as to not spook the teen.
Fran dipped his head to show he understood. "That's good. Lussuria is going to clean you up, okay?" Another nod. "When you come back, you're going to eat some soup and crackers and relax." Fran nods. "If at any time you feel like you're going to panic, alert one of us alright?" He hums in agreement.
Seeing that Fran understood what was happening, Lussuria cradled the shaking mist and got off the dirtied couch. Fran wrapped his hands around the sun's neck as they walked upstairs into his room. "Darling, I need you to tell me whether you want me in here when you get changed." Lussuria told Fran as he put him down on his bed.
The shaking teen cleared his throat, "No."
Lussuria tilted his head in acceptance and stood by the door while Fran struggled into fresh clothes for the second time that day. "Ready." Fran croaked.
Lussuria turned around and looked the illusionist over. He approved the hastily formed outfit of sweatpants and a hoodie that, regretfully, hid his neck. "Alright sweetie, let's head back to Squ-chan yeah."
Fran let himself be scooped up by Lussuria, a clear sign that he really wasn't feeling well. It didn't take long for Fran to be laid out on top of Lussuria on one of the other couches. Squalo wandered in with the promised soup and crackers, pausing to watch the sun and mist silently interact. Fran was limp in Lussuria's arms, not moving as the sun soothingly stroked his hand up and down Fran's thigh. With a sigh, the rain walked over to the two on the sofa and placed the bowl of soup down on the coffee table. "Eat this." Squalo commanded, handing the weak mist a saltine cracker.
When Fran had eaten all five crackers, Squalo broke the tense silence. "I'm going to take a guess and say that this afternoon's reaction was because of the scars on your neck." Fran didn't answer, averting his eyes away from Squalo's in shame. "I want you to tell me how you got them, now."
Since Fran looked like he needed more prompting, Lussuria spoke up. "When did you get them, why and by who. That's all we need to know darling."
Fran looked down at his shaking fingers and took a deep breath, "They were before I met you guys. I needed to break somebody out of Vendicare." The other two elements looked pale at the obvious conclusion that was formed. "I didn't have a choice, they would have sold me to the Estraneo if I didn't go." They looked furious now. "I didn't very far before they surrounded me, Bermuda was there. He used his chains and grabbed me by the neck and they burned." Fran's voice cracked. "He knew why I was there, I think that's the only reason why they let me go…"
There was more to the story, but for now the two guardians wouldn't pry. Lussuria nudged Fran into a sitting position so he could sip at the soup handed to him. The bowl shook slightly but Fran was calming down, the warmth from the soup was comforting, not to mention the flames added. At this point, he was going to get drunk off all the flame he's been submitted to today. Even though he knew Xanxus and the rest of the Varia was going to know about this, Fran lay back on Lussuria with a full stomach and drifted into a peaceful slumber.
