Rules of Survival | afi

night four

The darkness in you
was shades lighter
than the darkness in me.

So I embraced the peril
in our high wire act
and I was somehow secure.
Somehow I glowed in freefall.

When they say
you were a thorn
I nod but I remember
it was the thorn
that reminded me
I lived.

-Ben Pedary, "Thorns"

•••

The temperature has been rapidly decreasing all day, and by the time the sun sets my teeth are chattering. I wrap up in some extra clothes from the bags we picked up, but the icy air still bites at my face and hands.

I expected this. The strategists often crank the temperature down towards the final days, making it more of a challenge to those who are still alive. It also preserves the dead bodies better, so when they clean them all up at the end it's less of a hassle.

I take first watch, partly because I need time to think and partly because I can tell Ashton is exhausted. Sure enough, he passes out right away, breathing heavily on the mattress.

I check my wristband. We have a little over eight hours until the safe zone shrinks again, and less than a hundred people left. It's nearing the end now. Things are about to get messy.

So I sit, my back against the wall, watching the ground below through the little window we created, my gun resting on my lap. An hour passes by with no action, and eventually my eyes drift to the man on the mattress.

Ashton really is beautiful. But damaged. Obviously so. I hadn't really realized it before, but there's something about Ashton that is so broken. Like he's been shattered into pieces and then poorly put back together with masking tape.

After using a bit more of the serum, his shoulder is healed. All that's left of the wound is a torn hole in his shirt, exposing the scarred skin underneath. Ashton lays on his side, his back to me, arms wrapped around his stomach as if to protect himself.

He doesn't look like he's at peace like most people do when they sleep. He looks like he's struggling to breathe.

Which I realize, with a jolt, that he actually isn't. His whole body is trembling, and his chest isn't moving.

Immediately I'm across the room, dropping down next to him. I've seen this before. He's having a panic attack in his sleep.

I put my hands on his shoulders, lightly shaking him, then harder when it doesn't work.
"Ashton." I say, as loud as I can without it being dangerous. "Ashton."

His face is getting redder by the minute. Desperate, I rip my canteen off my belt, unscrewing the lid and throwing the remainder of its contents onto his face.

This does the trick. Ashton jolts awake, sitting straight up with his chest heaving, looking around wildly for a few seconds. Water is soaking into his shirt, dripping down his face, his expression stricken. When he sees me, he just stares for a solid ten seconds, before closing his eyes and burying his face in his hands.

He doesn't speak. He's still shaking. This isn't like his other nightmares, this is something much more serious.

"What happened?" I whisper, putting a hand on his knee. Ashton shakes his head, and I realize that he's crying.

Oh, God. I've never been good at comforting people.

"Ashton, talk to me." I continue, swallowing hard. He takes in another, ragged breath, before looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"I-" He says, his voice a rough drag in his throat. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? You didn't do anything." I reply. He looks so shattered, I don't know what to do.

"I'm too fucked up. You deserve better. I-" He pauses, sniffling. "I can't. I c-can't talk about this right now."

"What do you want me to do?"

Ashton shakes his head, tears slowly leaking down his cheeks. My heart aches for him.

"Can you just..." He hiccups, covering his face with his hands once more. I move my grip to his shoulder, steadying him.

"Can we just.. sleep?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "What do you mean?" He literally just did.

"Can you sleep with me? Like, next to me?"

I look around the room. We're pretty secure and safe, and I know that if anyone were to walk up the stairs I would hear them before they could get up here. I just don't want to miss any action down below..

"Please." Ashton whispers. "When we passed out two nights ago, in that bed, it was the first time I d-didn't dream of my-" He trails off. "Please."

That sells it. I can't say no to him like this. Besides, that night, I slept better than I have in a long time. I can't deny that.

"Ok." I say softly, crawling onto the bed next to him to lay down. "Ok. Let's sleep."

Ashton blinks, like he's surprised, before relief floods into his expression. His whole body goes lax.

"Thank you." He whispers, "Thank you, Eliza."

He lies down next to me, his hand laying open between us. We're facing each other, about a foot apart, and without even hesitating I grab his hand and lock my fingers with his.

He holds on tighter than me, and his breathing evens out.

"Goodnight, Liza." He whispers, his red eyes dropping. I breath out slowly, and close my own.

"Goodnight, Ash." I reply.

The night is still cold, but next to Ashton, I feel warm. Safe in a way that should be impossible with the bloody fight to come. Like we are meant to be right here, on this shitty mattress, breathing in each others air.

So with our bodies side by side, our hands locked between us, we drift off to sleep.

••••

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~Camryn