The darkness between the cracks | Major Will Tranter x GN! Reader
AO3: Otaku_girl | Fics only account: @otaku-girl-ao3-fics | ATJ character masterlist | June of Doom 2026 masterlist
Fandom: Fuze
Summary: There is blood on the bed. Bruises already beginning to form around your throat. Terror in his eyes that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the ghosts he brought home from Afghanistan. You have waited too long to get him back to let him run now.
Prompt: June of Doom, day 14. Today we have… You’ll have to do better than that + darkness + trembling.
The darkness between the cracks
“Shit!”
One of you should have seen this coming.
The room is black in a way that feels all-encompassing: no edges, no depth, just an unending darkness. With no streetlights outside and not even a hint of twinkling stars to light the way, this is the darkest you have ever seen the night sky.
Will fell asleep some time ago as the sweltering daytime heat gave way to the coldness of night. It never fails to take you by surprise, even after weeks of your new life here together, just how cold it can get. You wonder if that will change, once the two of you are more settled.
Will comes out of sleep like he is being dragged from its comforting depths, stormcloud blue eyes wide and unseeing. For long, endless seconds, there is no bed. No sheets. No guest room in Karalis’s reserve. Only dust in his throat, heat in his lungs, and the sound of gunfire cracking too close to his head.
His body moves before his mind does, still trapped in the throes of events long since past – of memories he will never share with you, no matter how much you urge him to. He acts on instinct, years in the field honing his reactions into something designed to keep him safe no matter what the state of his mind may be.
His elbow catches something solid, a familiar hot, slick splatter coating his forearm. He follows it up with a sharp jerk of his knee, throwing his unseen assailant away from him without allowing the space between them to grow as he follows after them. There can be no time to allow them to regroup.
A sharp cry cuts through the night. Your breath stutters, a startled gasp choking you. A hand is on your throat, pushing you back, forcing a wheezed, pained whine from you. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as the last traces of sleep tumble away. You place your hand over his, squeezing not clawing, trying to capture his attention. No more than one, two, three dreadfully long seconds pass, before Will finally snaps back to awareness and his hands fall away.
Tears blur your vision – not from panic or even really pain, but from the suddenness of it all. You push yourself up, taking a shuddering, unsteady breath as he reaches for his phone, trying to find some light in this endless darkness.
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