It wasn't a normal dream; Deidara could tell that much.

It was like the sensation he had received upon arriving; not bad, but not quite right either. A dream that was utterly unnatural, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. It started in darkness, just himself walking around without anywhere to go, anything to see...it was just blank. He was looking for something—maybe even someone—but for the moment, he could do nothing, and continued walking on through the darkness, until finally something happened, and he halted in his tracks, hoping this change would help him in his search.

The darkness flickered around him, morphing into strange shadowy shapes that grew and then shrank and vanished, only for them to either reappear a second later, or be replaced by something else entirely. But then all the shadows twisted and grew smaller, until Deidara could finally see where he had been standing all along. He was standing in the entrance hall of the mansion, looking over the empty building. Nothing seemed completely wrong, but his instincts were telling him something was coming.

And just like it had the first time, his gaze was automatically drawn to the mirror like a moth to a flame. Only this time...he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. Things had changed slightly, and instead of the doors being directly behind him, the right hand side corridor was, but other than that, it was an identical scene. Though nothing seemed to be going on. Finding something was on the top of his list, and very urgent, but his mind wasn't forcing him to go, and there was no action to reveal the position of what he was looking for. In the same way that the moment they entered the building all sound ceased, there was no sound now.

Nothing.

Deidara had never heard such silence.

And for a while, it continued, and it seemed as if the dream was going nowhere, starting and finishing with him standing in the entrance hall, staring at the mirror. Well, that was his thought, until something reached Deidara's ears, and instantaneously he began looking for it. He couldn't dismiss it as a little something; the silence was too complete to not notice a sound. Not to mention when he finally realised what it was he was hearing:

A little girl crying.

At first he looked around the room, seeing nothing and no one, whatever direction he looked in. But then, just as he was beginning to think he was hallucinating, his eyes fell back to the mirror. And he saw the girl. She was sitting in the corridor, only a few steps down it, and curled up into a ball on the floor. The fact that it was right in the middle of the corridor escaped her notice, and she had her head buried in her knees as she sobbed. But something was different about the girl; a detail that really made Deidara pay attention.

She had wings, and had them wrapped around her body, though not enough to completely disguise her face and body. Deidara knew it was the girl he'd seen before; there was no way it could have been anyone else, in any circumstance. It wasn't like wings like hers were very common in the world. It was her as a child, but why she was crying, he hadn't a clue. But just like before, he wanted to help her, and as such, his body finally began to move.

Walking forward, Deidara approached the mirror, albeit slowly, and for the moment, watched with a frown of worry and concern at her sobs, somehow knowing there was nothing he could do. Her cries didn't stop, and he was starting to grit his teeth, closing his eyes in frustration at the fact he couldn't help her. All he could think about was that he would do anything to make her happy. But in this situation, anything wasn't enough.

And soon, voices began to speak up, causing Deidara's eyes to flash open, though it never occurred to him that this person was real. The voice circled round her, calling out nasty comments, telling her how pathetic she was, that she didn't deserve to be alive. Repeating over and over again that she was a freak and everybody hated her. Her wings closed ever more closely around herself, but her sobs merely grew louder, her breathing increasing with how badly she was crying.

Now Deidara really felt he had to do something, and opened his mouth to protest to the comments, only to find out with horror that he had no voice. He tried saying anything, and still nothing came out, leaving her alone and without anyone to protect her. Grabbing his throat, he attempted any type of speaking or making noises, but nothing worked, and he remained watching, a feeling of such sadness welling up inside of him that he felt like he could cry.

The feeling didn't go away as the dream went on.

Footsteps now sounded behind her, and the sobs abruptly stopping, she looked over her shoulder, before getting to her feet and sprinting forward, a look of utter terror in her eyes. Deidara couldn't see what was chasing her, but he could hear it, and stepped forward, his hand outstretched, craving the idea of gathering her in his arms and telling her it would all be okay. But his hand soon dropped to his side when he saw what happened next.

Without any warning, any chance to defend herself, a knife extended through the middle of her torso, her body halting point blank, her mouth open in shock and pain, blood coming from her mouth as well as the wound as she stood there. The blood was over her wings, and soon other wounds appeared on her body, blood all over the floor. Deidara stood, paralysed with shock, the enveloping silence returning to the room as she was stabbed.

Then the knife was retracted, and her body began to fall. Now finding the ability to move, Deidara lunged forward and slammed his fists into the mirror, screaming out even though it made no sound. He fought to reach her, to do anything in the slightest that would help her out, but it was useless. The room was stuck in silence, and as her body suddenly appeared at the highest banister, falling onto the floor with a crash that caused the only noise in the place, blood-stained feathers shot out of her wings in every direction, fluttering down to the floor to cover it.

Tears were now running down Deidara's face as he realised that he'd let her die, and his fists remained pounding the mirror weakly in the hope he might do something. But instead his perception changed, and now he was holding her body in his arms, looking down on her body and face. Blood was still running from her mouth, though her eyes were closed, all life having drained from her body. The voice that had tormented and killed her was no more, but it had done enough for its memory to remain as a scar, imprinted on his brain forever.

He held her close, rocking her body like a baby, feeling the blood leak onto his hands, not caring about the mess, but the fact it was her blood on his hands made sobs now start to come out of his mouth like her own had done. Guilt was all that filled his mind as he remembered how he'd killed her. He had sat behind the mirror and let her torture go on, when she needed him. She needed help. Always had done, right from the start, and no one was there to aid her.

Her face was peaceful, but it didn't matter. He'd rather have her face in pain if it meant she was alive to return his gaze. And as such his sobs continued, finally ringing out into the air, the only sound that echoed across the room, all that had ever sounded out in the dream being grief and pain. Her wings were so soft, and still holding her body, kneeling next to her with blood-stained feathers dotted around him, she'd finally become an angel.

But she was dead, so it no longer mattered.

And with that thought crossing his mind, he screamed out a last defiant protest at her passing, burying his face in her neck with sorrow.

A cry that wouldn't stop echoing in his head.