Phoenix in the Light

Two Can Play

Writers Note: I hope you all are ready.

Soap was still holding me against the administration building bathroom tile wall, I was soaking his shoulder in tears. Sobbing. Sobbing hard enough to choke and spit and drool, but I kept a vice grip on his upper body, as if holding on for dear life.

    All of it came to a head.

    Flash images of everything, every single thing that I had been through bled into my head, and I was completely at a loss to stop it. Everything from Oswalds initial assault on me to the words that Ghost had just said to me. Blood, there was so much blood and death in those images. So many dead bodies and lifeless eyes, broken limbs, heads blasted open to reveal just how soft that pink matter was inside. There was so much darkness, so much horror and terror. My nails dug into Soaps shoulder as another round of violent shaking accompanied a breathless sob, he continued to hold me, bracing a single hand on the bathroom wall while the panic attack paralyzed me.

    "I got you, Phoenix," Soap whispered to me as even more violent images bubbled to the surface. My fingers being smashed apart by Makarov, my knees cracking, Alex's lips turning purple as he was beaten senseless by that female guard. The visions were intrusive and gruesome.

    The rage that I had just felt towards Ghost had released full control on the wall I had put around all of these horrific memories and that spilled from me like a flood. "Breathe lass, just breathe."

    I tried, but I was suffocating on the air around me. Not a single breath that I took was satisfying my need for oxygen, nothing was inflating my lungs. I coughed through another fit of rage and sobbing, nausea pooling in my stomach as the grotesque memories of wetting myself and screaming out for Ghost while I was tortured stomped around my mind's eyes. "I can't..." I stuttered.

    "I know, just hold onto me until you can." It took what seemed like hours to regain control of myself again. Soap was shaking with the effort to keep me upright when I finally took a long, deep, satisfying breath and loosened my grip on him. "There we go."

    I took a few more deep breaths, relief washing over me as the rush of oxygen I had just taken reached my brain, clearing out the leftover images and visions. The fog lifted, and like a patch being put over a leak, my tears stopped falling. Soap slowly backed away from me, his gaze checking the state of my face and eyes. Pitiful, the look he gave me was pure pitiful.

    "Sorry," I breathed, a hiccup following.

    "It's alright," he cooed. His hand found its way to my cheek, brushing aside the hair that was clinging to my face, tangled by the tears. Grabbing my arm gently, he guided me over to the facets of the bathroom, turning on the hot water of one of them. "Take your hair down, wash your face."

    I stared at his reflection for a moment, because staring at myself in the mirror was not an option. "I have four sisters, I've seen my fair share of messy break ups," he said then nodded to the warm water that was flowing. Pulling the elastic from my slicked back bun, blood rushed to my forehead immediately and I closed my eyes with the relief of it. The warm water on my face was equally as soothing as I splashed it up along my brow and nose, rubbing away the snot and drool that had accumulated. Water dripped down my neck as I finally looked up, avoiding my face in the mirror again.

Soap was leaning against the sink, back to the mirrors, arms crossed over his chest and back rolled so that he was looking at the ground and not at me. I yanked some of the paper towels from the paper towel dispenser, patting dry the moisture, continuing to take as many deep breaths as I could.

I could still feel the swelling under my eyes, but Soap finally met my gaze, "that was a low blow, even for Ghost."

I put my hands on my hips and nodded, still trying to regain my full composure. "What..." I breathed and breathed again, "what on earth happened to him?"