Thunder (G/T P!Septiplier)

Legends

Jack couldn't move. He could hear the drums, hear the scuffling thuds of feet and the crackling heat of fire, and feel the vibrations in the earth and the air... but he couldn't move. He could see the hut, the alien interior of a healer whom shared bed with a warrior of the highest status, a place that the Irishman had grown accustomed to... and yet his eyes weren't open.

He couldn't move.

His chest felt heavy.

He couldn't get up.

It was hard to breathe.

Why was everything red?

But then everything went dark, and suddenly he was standing in a red, regular-sized hallway. Shadows whispered and giggled maniacally at him, and the only light to combat the dark red void was a single flame from a lighter that somehow found its way in his hand. Jack tried to look around, to move, but he couldn't. It wasn't just the spreading pain from his backside. Everything felt fuzzy, from the sluggish nerves in his body refusing to respond, to the muffled pulse of his own heartbeat.

Jack found his body moving without his permission. He wasn't wearing warm furs that combated the harsh cold, but rather more familiar and casual clothes from before the Earth was lost. He walked through the halls robotically, turning corners and looking around whilst clutching that precious flame. It was important to him. He couldn't remember why. A firebender? No, that was magic. Magic didn't exist. It was all made up. All pretend. A trick. Initials. There were initials on that lighter. He couldn't feel them, but he knew they were there. Something with a lot of swoops that prevailed over the scratches of a shaky drunkard. What was it... it started with an... an S? No, a C.

Taking the final turn, Jack's body came to a wavering halt. He could see a black figure at the end of the red hallway, through his weak and faltering double vision. "Who's there?" His voice quivered as his lips moved on their own. The shoulders slowly pivoted as the head turned, but then something was off about the movement, affected by flickering that was like a scratched up disk left at the mercy of kids who didn't know any better. And as the man turned to him, a green glow from the visible eye illuminated a twisted smirk. His heart fluttered with fear.

"Where are they!?" He demanded, "What do you want from me!?" Another glitch, and then the lithe figure was suddenly turned completely toward him, and began walking to him in a cloud of erroneous malfuctions. His breath went faster as it came at him with inhuman speed, but then just as the silhouette loomed right in front of him, he found control in his toes when the urge to flee hit him at full speed.

And then he woke up.

His eyes flew open as he jolted up with a strangled gasp, and he fell out from under the covers. He scuttled back like a crab on all fours, with his lungs sucking up delicious refreshing oxygen as he vaguely realized that he had fallen out of bed. But adrenaline still coursed through his veins, and chills still tickled his spine and nape.

He heard the fabric behind him suddenly shift, and a cool breeze announced a new presence. Jack spun around as quick as he could to see Mark and Amy entering the hut. His heart jolted.

"Oh. He's awake?" Mark frowned, not exactly sure whether that was good or not. Amy, however, spotted the anxiety right away.

"Another bad dream." She crouched and tried to pick Jack up, but he didn't let her come near to touching him. Instead, he backed up, putting his back against the nest wall, and his chest was bobbing as his blue eyes were wide with intense fear.

"Here, let me." Amy's hand moved away, replaced by a coarser tawny one. Jack still cowered, shrinking down as if being pulled on by gravity, whimpering even, but one of the calloused fingers only softly touched his head. He flinched... and then he slowly relaxed. He sighed tiredly as Mark rubbed his head in a circular motion, murmuring coaxing words in a gentle rumble.