Sear - Ch. 3
CG-verse; Chapter 3 - Shock and Awe
Suicide mention warning
~2800 words
I didn’t sleep.
I couldn’t even turn out the lights. Seated on the edge of my bed, I spent the whole night darting my eye toward every sound. The image of that boy was burned into my head. If my eye fell shut for an instant, I could see the mutilated skin of his face, the way the hole in his cheek twisted as he scowled at me.
He wasn’t real. He couldn’t be real.
But I wasn’t going to chance falling asleep if he came back.
My heart fluttered through the night, and dizziness made my head swim as morning arrived. Once the other men began to mill around the halls, I knew I was safe again. I joined them, finding comfort in the presence of others. They were real. They would keep the hallucinations away.
In the galley, my appetite only allowed me coffee, watered down by enough sugar to force myself to remain conscious. I responded to any acknowledgement from the others with a smile or nod, unsure my voice would remain steady for me. As always, Harlock wasn’t there. I found him on the bridge, his brow furrowed at the sight of me.
“Yama, did you sleep?” he asked.
A pause held the air as I forced my mind into motion. I needed to answer somehow, at least with a no. I needed to say…something.
Instead I found myself staring at him like a child caught breaking the rules. His expression was an unreadable mix of emotions. “Did you take your medication?” he asked.
After begging myself to give some reasonable answer, I managed a noncommittal hum. It wasn’t quite what I’d intended. “I’ll be okay,” I whispered more than said. “I just had a rough night was all. It’s fine. Tonight will be better.”
“You don’t have to be at your station like this,” he said. “It might be better if you’re not.”
He could scold or yell at me all he wanted, not that Harlock was the type to yell, but I couldn’t go back to being alone. I needed to be around everyone for a while, to remind myself I hadn’t lost it completely. Seven hours of jumping at every groan of the ship left me feeling like a bunch of frayed wires.
“It’s fine,” I said again as I dropped into my chair.
“Very well,” he said to my back. “But if anything happens, I won’t allow you to lead a team in your condition.”
That was fair, and many of the crew didn’t appreciate one of the youngest men on the crew leading them anyway. I tended to receive complaints at even the smallest of mistakes.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Yama?” Harlock asked.
I blinked at the endless feed of readings on my console. Maybe now was the time to be honest, but maybe I would get better. There was no reason to cause any worry if all my problems would go away on their own.
Before I could answer, Kei strode in from the lift, stretching the kinks from her back. It felt like the perfect excuse to not respond to Harlock at all. “Morning,” Kei said. I turned to find her glancing between the two of us, brows raised. “Yama, you look like Hell.”
I wondered how it could be that obvious, and I rubbed my hands over my face like I could wipe away whatever looked off. Kei said nothing else on the matter, striding over to her station. “We’re in empty space for now,” she said as she dropped into her chair. “It’s unlikely we’ll run into anyone in the next few days, not that we haven’t run into an army in the middle of nowhere before.” She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “But we will need to stop to resupply on food soon. Masu is getting antsy.”
A flicker of a smile crossed Harlock’s face. “Of course. I’ll plot out a map of possible landing sites for us. I believe Tabito is nearby, so that may be our best option.”
While Kei grew excited about some sort of tea they had there or something, I allowed myself to cross my arms on my console and use them as a pillow. I wasn’t going to fall asleep, not after four cups of coffee and with the rest of the men filing in to join the chatter. It was too noisy to sleep. I was too wired on caffeine.
Then the dream started up again. Somehow, it felt more lifelike than ever before. The heat ate away at me, the fear clear in everyone’s eyes. Running seared through my lungs like a red-hot knife. Mercifully, this one ended with the explosion. I didn’t have to suffer the true pain of a slow death; instead, I jolted awake in my chair with a stuttered gasp, my entire body trembling.
Silence gripped the air, and for a moment I hoped everyone had gone to lunch. But as I forced my eye to scan the room, I found every member of the bridge crew staring back. Their reactions ranged from confusion to amusement. Kei looked concerned and perhaps a bit irritated if her frown was any sign. Harlock remained as difficult to read as ever, his sharpened eye the only indication that he might feel anything.
With my heart hammering in my chest and sweat slick across my face, I sat there in silent panic. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, telling me to bolt to the lift and not look back. All at once, I wanted to throw up and hide under my station. I looked so stupid to them, jolting awake from some stupid nightmare. I should have never let myself fall asleep. Stupid. Stupid.
“Yama.” I jolted against the sound of my name, smooth as still water. Miime, the most difficult to read of all, strode my way as though walking on air. But something about her approach made my blood roar in my ears. She seemed to see too much of me with those glassy eyes. I swore she could read every lie I’d ever told. As she reached out for me, I almost fell from my chair in an attempt to get away.
“Relax,” she said. “It was only a dream.”
I stumbled to my feet, still itching to run for the door. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was all just a dream, and I really was losing my mind. I didn’t know if that was a better option than that ghost boy being real.
“It’s fine, kid,” one man said with a shrug. “We all get nightmares every now and then.”
“PTSD comes with the territory,” Kei sighed. “You can talk about it if you want. We won’t make fun of you.”
But that was the absolute last thing I wanted. “No,” I said, taking a step back. Miime’s endless eyes continued boring into me. “I just-” Again, the door out screamed for my attention. “It’s nothing. I’ll be back.” I forced myself not to run for the lift as all their stares stabbed into my back. It didn’t matter where I went as long as I was away from them.
Sweat began to cool against my skin, slick and grimy like grease. As soon as I dragged myself off the lift, my feet directed me toward the showers. I didn’t mind walking back to my room in a towel as long as I could feel clean.
With my fear and adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion hit me like I’d run into a wall. The only thing driving me was the thought of the icy shower water running through my hair. It was almost enough to keep me from stopping when a flash of green caught the corner of my eye.
I shouldn’t have hesitated, but part of me wanted some assurance that no one was in the branching hall I’d passed. As my pulse sped up once again, rattling my breathing, I took two slow steps back. The hall led directly back to my room, and standing there was that impossible boy.
He looked the same as he had the night before, a scowl on his twisted face. This time he'd planted his feet, making him only tall enough to reach my chin. He stood with his arms crossed, his chest puffed out as though to size me up.
But he wasn’t real. No. He couldn’t be real.
I would prove it to myself, and then there would be nothing to fear.
“You’re no pirate,” he hissed. “You’re just some coward traitor. I don’t care if they think you’re safe to be around now. I know you’re not. I won’t let you hurt them again.”
I refused to respond, refused to acknowledge he’d said a word. Tugging one glove off, I closed the gap between us in three steps.
He wasn’t real. I would prove it.
With one swipe of my hand, I waited for him to dissipate, to feel nothing but air. I didn’t expect to feel the back of my hand connect solidly with the hole on his cheek. A slap echoed through the hall as he staggered to the side. I felt the shock on his face mirrored by my own. He clutched his cheek as I clutched my hand. It felt too real, the smooth yet jagged skin and the sharp ridges of his teeth.
I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was back in the dream, a blistering heat pressing down on me.
“What the hell?” he spat as his wild eye tore into me. A feral rage seemed to have taken hold, as though he wanted to rip me to pieces. “I’ll get rid of you this time for sure,” he snarled.
He vanished before I could run. No matter the embarrassment, I needed to be around someone else. As long as I was with someone sane, they would ward off whatever was wrong with me. I just needed contact.
As I turned, I heard something tearing and sparking at my back. The lights flickered overhead, and the boy appeared in front of me. My hand went for my gun on instinct, but a hard shove against my chest smashed my back into the wall. The sharpness of frayed wiring brushed the back of my bare hand.
Every muscle in my body tensed against my will against the sudden onslaught of pain. It was like razor wire cutting me apart from the inside. I couldn’t see or think. There was only the overwhelming pain.
It felt endless. Just as I realized I was going to die, the sharpness of the pain cut off. At some point, I’d fallen to the floor. My body was still paralyzed, but I wouldn’t have moved if my limbs allowed it. The coolness of the metal was soothing against my cheek despite the echoes of pain jolting through me.
If my eyes were open, there was nothing to see but an empty blackness.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” someone said above me. I didn’t recognize the voice, somewhat high and nervous. The stranger pet my hair with a careful, fidgeting hand. “I’ve got help coming for you,” he breathed. “You’re going to be alright.”
He continued on with nice, comforting lies as the pain ebbed away along with my grasp on consciousness.
Perhaps I slept, though it felt as though I simply didn’t exist for a while. The waking world reappeared with the blinding white lights of the infirmary overhead. Pain rocketed through my bones, dragging a gasp from me.
“Try to relax,” Miime’s silken voice murmured. Thin, pale fingers laced through my bangs and pressed to my forehead. They were as cool as ice, helping me ease the tension from my joints. The pain remained as a dull throbbing, threatening to take over at any moment.
“The doctor said you did not like pain medication, so you are on a simple drip, though it is not very effective.”
I heard the heels of Harlock’s boots hitting the floor before his voice joined Miime’s. “We can give you something stronger if you’ll agree to it.” He appeared at my side, opposite Miime. The concern in his eye almost made me give in. Tempting as the offer was, I decided I was on enough drugs for now.
Trying to speak showed my voice to be ragged with pain, little more than a whisper. “What… What are you doing here?” I asked. It didn’t seem like the right question, but thoughts drifted away from me before I could fully grasp them.
“I’m not allowed to check on my ailing crewman?” His smile seemed forced.
“I informed him you might wake,” Miime said. “He wished to ask about what occurred.”
I was still asking myself that. “I-I don’t know. I fell, and then…” Then there was pure agony.
“You fell?” There was no doubt in Harlock’s tone, merely confusion.
The only answers I could give were impossible ones, so I remained silent.
“It seems there were some damaged electrical wires,” he began with a sigh. “The panel concealing them was opened, and those were what you fell into. It seems your contact short-circuited the power to the lights. That’s the engineers’ best guess, at least. The power went out, so we all wandered into the halls to see what was wrong. Someone found- Well, they tripped over you just before the lights came back on.” He offered a more genuine smile before his gaze softened. “We aren’t sure why that panel was open. We aren’t sure why the wires were damaged in the first place. If you have any information at all, it doesn’t have to leave this room.”
I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut. They thought I’d done it to myself. It was just like the gas leak, and once again, I had no explanation. If I told them about the boy they would think I’d lost my mind, but without any other explanation, they would believe I was suicidal.
I shot up, reaching out to grab Harlock. I needed to let him know I was alright, even if it was a lie. They couldn’t go on thinking I wanted to die when it was so far from the truth. Before I could grasp a piece of his collar, pain ripped me apart. Black spots in my vision grew to a black wall.
Once again, I lost time in nonexistence. Reality swam back with Harlock’s arm around my shoulders, holding me upright. I felt a curious moment of déjà vu as Miime pet my hair, breathing soothing words to me.
“I didn’t do it to myself, Captain,” I said between soft gasps for air. “Please believe me.”
“It’s alright, Yama,” he said, though he didn't sound certain. “We’ll figure things out.”
“The shock traveled through your arm and down your legs,” Miime said. “It avoided your heart, so you will recover with minimal scaring from the burns, but you must not strain yourself for now.”
I held my breath as Harlock lowered me back to the pillow. Dull flares of pain burned in my limbs, but my vision remained clear enough to see the cat that hopped up onto the foot of my bed. Harlock glanced toward the cat as I watched it, but he turned back as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
“We’ll let you rest for a while,” he said. I blinked at the sight of a second cat hopping up to join the first. They were both brown tabbies, small and a bit scruffy.
“Where did the cats come from?” I asked.
Harlock and Miime exchanged glances over me as third cat appeared.
“There are so many," I slurred. "How many cats do we have?”
“I thought it wasn’t a very powerful drug,” Harlock muttered.
“It is not,” Miime answered, “but perhaps the lack of sleep combined with it is getting to him.”
The pressure of their paws pressed into the blankets around me as they padded up by my side. A fourth hopped up, and each one found a spot on top of me, nestling into a ball.
“Yama,” Harlock called, drawing my attention from them. “If you ever wish to talk about anything, remember you can always come to me. For now, just get some sleep.”
I almost told him then. The dreams and the boy from them rested on the tip of my tongue, but I felt impossibly heavy. Forming words into phrases became a monumental task. As the cats each began purring, I gave in to sleep once again.
I dreamt of many things and yet nothing in particular, the soft rumble of purring echoing in the back of my mind.