Dents

[+] Stop The Dams

((This chapter contains mature or potentially triggering content. Reader discretion is advised.))

I woke three evenings later to a cloud of emerald smog burrowing into my lungs like the nails of a thousand tiny rats, tickling and scratching at the inside of my throat with every breath.

It was home. It was different than it had been in my memories. 2D was gone. The crash of the waves outside vanished. The blankets were warm with blood. I was chained to the bedposts. Our sheets smelled like his shampoo.

I was crying.

Strangers laughed from the hallway. For a vague, unsure moment, I thought I heard the anguished voice of my mother calling out to me. The floor quaked. My lungs hurt. I was so terribly afraid.

A gentle knock on my bedroom door broke me from another restless sleep. I praised all that was holy that I wouldn't be stuck in that nightmare any longer.

It hadn't been easy, settling in to our new arrangements.

Russel and Noodle had done their best to accommodate me, though Murdoc assured me often that the act was in vain. He was an awful scab, a blemish on the Earth, wholly lacking in even the most basic forms of etiquette. It unsettled me to know that my future was caught in his greasy, calloused hands.

I recounted the past few days hastily in my mind, grounding myself once more in the present. The door to my room wailed on its hinges.

"Saoirse?"

I recognized his voice immediately. I pulled the covers snugly around my face. From the angle I was positioned in, I had a clear view of the doorway as he quietly let himself in.

Birds chirped tuneless melodies outside my window. The sun had not yet risen, but the world stirred nonetheless, impatient for the bustle of life to continue on as it always had. The starfish-shaped nightlight in the outlet beside my bed cast a soft pink hue over everything.

His eyes were an empty, unreadable void. He swallowed all the light in the room and all the air from my chest.

2D's presence, in itself, had become an unprecedented need in my life. He served as a connection to my humanity that I hadn't ever known I was missing.

I feigned sleep. He took a few careful strides toward my bed.

In this light, he looked as a child might if they were seeing fireworks for the first time. His mouth was open, allowing his faint, shallow breathing to shudder out from his thin frame. His hair was messed in every possible direction. The natural blue vibrancy of his locks swirling with the powdered magenta light reminded me a little of cotton candy.

He smiled. It was an intoxicating, enthralling smile.

"I betcha yew're awake."

2D gently lifted the comforter from my shoulder and crawled into bed behind me. He slipped an arm around me.

"Et's kinda weird now, righ'? Sleepin' alone, I mean."

I sighed. He caught me.

"Yeah, it is."

"Et's like, wifthout yew around, I can't even shut my eyes fo' a second. I'm finkin' about yew, always. Every minute, every hour... Et's somefink."

I nuzzled my back further into his chest and wiggled around a bit, sinking into the fragrant sheets. Surprised by the unexpected pressure, he released a soft moan against my ear. I yelped. Despite that, every nerve beneath my skin flared in excitement.

His hushed laughter made the hairs on my neck stand on end. He held me tighter. I relaxed into his touch.

It was as if, in that isolated moment, we were separated from the timeline of tragedy that drew us together. We were normal.