Falling Skies

Thirty Two

A/N The section of this chapter that contains the TW of sexual assault has been moved to its own chapter "TW: Thirty Two" it is NOT written in this chapter but is instead replaced with brackets
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"Hello?"

There's no answer, only silence ringing out into the abyss as December calls out to it once more. He's surrounded by a thick darkness, the jasper table having vanished from before him along with the rest of the red velvet room. He can no longer sense Ryder or Abrahm by his side, just the never ending chill brought on by the shadows that swirl around him.

Cautiously, he pulls himself from the floor, both hands pressed tightly against the inky black so thick he can't see the limbs outstretched before him. If it weren't for the chill running through his palms it would feel as if he were floating, the darkness leaving no difference between the floor, walls, or ceiling.

How did I get here... There's no evidence of a doorway, the walls of the small room entirely smooth beneath the smoke and carrying with it the same chill as the floor. It has the texture of cool metal, it's surface void of flaws or entrances of any sort. He's just...here somehow.

With a start the room begins to spin, the force of it knocking December back onto the inky floor as the darkness begins to dissipate around him. It drifts out the room like smoke, slowly rolling away from the floor and dripping off the walls as it makes its way towards a mystery exit, finally revealing the contents of the small room.

White on white. The brightness stretches out for miles, the faint buzz of fluorescent lights beginning to fill the room accompanied by the far off clicking of heels on linoleum. A tightness has already snaked its way into December's chest, constricting around his lungs until he's gasping for breath, chest heaving as he wildly searches for something, anything to explain.

To explain why the sight of this place has brought him to his knees, why that far off click and the thought of who it belongs to now fills him with panic. This is his home, the halls he used to so confidently walk, the familiar white on white that once felt so comforting. Yet it all seems so empty now, like the entirety of his life had been some sort of charade, just a puppet that could only think when someone else pulled the strings. These walls are cold, the buzz of the lights eerie and the click of heels now panic inducing at the thought of who lies behind them.

Is this how Ryder felt for all these years? In constant pain from the fear that everyday could be the last he ever lived, every click of those heels an unspoken warning of the hunt he never asked to be a part of. Ryder was always able to see through Haven's veil, he never fell for the God's Work Through God's Creation mantra that had been spewed to them since birth. Somehow he managed to make his own plans and follow his own destiny and in the end it's what broke him free from these too bright restraints that cradled them for so long.

So why can't I break away...

"Jenn said the new one is still being held in December's unit but she's thinking about moving him because of the Ryder situation."

The voice has December spinning, neck nearly snapping as he glances down the hall in the direction of the familiar voice.

Abrahm. He's dressed in Haven attire, white coat folded over his arm as he addresses a man next to him. He doesn't seem to notice December kneeled in the middle of the corridor, attention seemingly elsewhere as he continues with his speech. "Thankfully, Jenn isn't entirely stupid so I got granted special privileges." He points towards himself, teeth barred as he smiles at the man beside him. "I'm headed over there now, will you be able to bring me everything I asked for?"