Characters/Pairing: Kit (Chester) and Alice, mention of Alice/Matthew
Sometimes I have strange dreams. Not like the nightmares that leave me screaming, my throat dry and calling Matthew to my side – but still dark dreams. Glimpses of things that feel like memories I’ve forgotten. Or perhaps that have been erased ‘for my own good.’
They usually start the same way, waking up in a pitch-black room. I’m not afraid of the dark though. It feels different then the tense, oppressive dark of the war camp at night. All of us holding our breaths and waiting for the trumpet call to action. The dark in my dreams is comforting, soft and warm like velvet and I can hear life beyond the solid rock walls. I feel welcome in that darkness – like I belong.
Every time I scramble out of my bed, eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom as I pull on the rough grey clothes hanging on nearby hooks. I feel joyful, if only because my dream-self knows Kit is waiting for me. I can distinctly hear his laughter among the crowds passing by my door. Today he is chatting with someone, leaning against my doorframe as I stumble into the hall.
“Hey kiddo! What took you so long?” He says as he tugs on my ponytail and begins to walk away. I follow, just as he knows I will. In my dreams, I know this is how we function. Kit is the leader. I am the follower. That’s just how it’s always been.
“We’ve just been given a mission. Must be a real mess too, as the big guys are ‘requesting’ that we keep things real hush-hush.” There’s sarcasm in Kit’s tone and I sense more than see him rolling his eyes. He continues to speak, but I tend not to pay attention. I’m always more concerned in trying to discern his features. For every night, Kit’s face is blurred in that way that dream-faces always seem to be. How in my dreams I know all of the characters and the parts they play, but upon waking, I cannot for the life of me recall their smiles.
I nearly run into the young man when he stops dead in his tracks, effectively shaking me from my reverie. I watch words tremble on Kit’s lips and part of me is frustrated. I’m used to this from him – pregnant pauses while Kit decides what truths to keep locked inside and which to reveal to me – if any at all.
“Like hell we are!” I laugh, unable to contain myself. “No one’s been Topside in… well, ever.”
Kit’s anger almost radiates from his body as he walks away from me again. Or more stalks, as it takes me at least three steps to match the long strides his long and lean body makes. I’ve angered him with my laughter. The boy with a temper as short as the wicks on our rationed candles. But in my stupidity, my mouth keeps moving, spewing words onto the floor between us.
“Legends tell of Topsiders and the days when we walked among them, yes. But those are just stories they tell us at devotions. You cannot expect me to believe that these Sunday school fables of some world full of… light are true!”
Kit turns on me in an instant, yellowed eyes flashing bright in the dark—his mass towering above me and reminding me just how small I am. How very easily I could become prey. His eyes may have been the one bright thing in the dark yet they are not meant to serve as a balm. I have so easily forgotten that Kit is a deadly weapon, a soldier ready to die for his beliefs. Their beliefs, really. The same ones I’m meant to swallow without a second thought. The same mantras that are meant to make me into Kit.
“That is what those in power want you to believe, sweetheart…” His hissing only serves to start my heart a-pounding. Fear slowly creeps from my stomach to curl its cold hands around my heart. And confusion always muddles this fear too, keeping me from simply running away as I tell myself that I know Kit, that he is my friend, that we are blood brothers and he will not hurt me. But that ice cold fear wonders if this will be the one time he proves me wrong.
“They tell you these things exist somewhere. They tell you that you cannot have them. You can ask why over and over again, but their reasons only serve to push you farther away. Because you are weak. Because you are broken. Because you have not yet earned your place in the light.”
Each word burns into my skull, though in my dreams his mouth never moves. He simply stares at me with those cold yellowed eyes, the fear clenching my heart holding me tight.
“They tell you these things because they are afraid of us, Alice. We are so much stronger – so much better than they want us to believe. We were made in the Jabberwock’s image and we are as fierce and as fearsome as Xe…”
The man that is both my friend and my enemy begins to fade then, yellowed eyes and bright white teeth bright against the darkness as I fall out of my dream world.
“Never forget that, kiddo. Never let anyone make you forget.”
