dreamcrystals | Passive Dream Recording

Entry tags:

Passive Dream Recording | The Box

Sender: Tobias
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
Warnings: Torture, PTSD, hunting

You fly on auburn wings high above the field, looking down at it. It's far below you, and yet you can clearly see the rats scurrying in the grasses, the rabbits hopping into their burrows as your shadow passes, and you know you could swoop down and kill them in an instant. All of them, if you really wanted - the mother and her babies. You can almost taste the meat and blood and fur - but no. You're not hungry right now, and better to let them grow so you can hunt them later.

You turn, wheeling up towards the sky. There's a forest nearby, and you have a destination. You tilt your wings downwards until -

Wham! You slam into what feels like a glass window. Shrieking, you try to go around it, to find where the edge is and - and you hear a teenage girl's voice.

"You are obviously not a leader. You are not even second-in-command. You are a nobody." The voice makes you panic more than the words, and you kick off of the 'glass' to try to dive towards the field and -

Wham! There's another 'wall' - floor? - beneath you. You push off again and panic, trying to find the exit -

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Four more walls, making a cube. You're trapped. You're trapped and you know it's closing in and you can hear the girl laughing. It's a dark chuckle, and you know what that means. You're in the box again. You're in the box again and you know what that means, you know that she could pull you back to reality once again and cause you pain and you're panicking. You flutter around the box, trying to find something, some exit - but you know it's useless.

"Demorph!"

<No!> You shout it wordlessly, struggling against the inevitable. You reach up a wing in front of your face and see - a hand? But it's also a wing? It doesn't make sense, and you hear a gruff man's voice - older, raspy, cold.

"What good is it?"

What good is it anyway? You're going to die here, you're going to die and no one is going to help you and all you can see is your wing/hand and the blue sky and you tense your body, ready for the pain and -

Blackness.

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I heard her voice. While she was tormenting you.

[She doesn't clarify who, but she probably doesn't have to. There's very few people who could elicit that level of violent seething bitterness from her, and only one was relevant to the nightmare Tobias had just had.]

And some other voice. A guy I didn't recognize.

[Okay. Calm. Stop freaking. He doesn't need you freaking.]

Are you okay?

[No, she doesn't have to. And the guy she doesn't recognize -]

<My uncle.>

[If anyone deserves to know, it's her.]

[But the question gets a pause from him.]

<I'm alive. We're both alive.>

[He remembers what she said before. She can't be dead. He wouldn't allow it - why would he, when he's so much more disposable? She's got family who cares. He doesn't.]

[...oh.

His aunt and uncle were a subject she Does Not Bring Up. She knows better. They weren't important anymore, that was the important part. And he had new family, anyway. She'd never asked for details. Hadn't met them. Probably didn't want to.

Or maybe did, but for reasons she really shouldn't. Either way, better off that she never did.]

Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Just a nightmare. Not like that's new for any of us, right?

[She wasn't at all convinced. She'd felt what he was feeling. The terror. The feeling of being trapped. The feeling of losing your grasp of reality. If he wasn't a bird right now, she'd probably already be out of the bed and holding him. As it was-]

... We should figure out this dream-sharing thing. If it's just us because we're close, that's one thing, but I don't really like the idea of sharing with the class.

<Yeah. Yeah, it's not. And we should. I guess... we should ask around? I met a few people I can ask. One guy claims to be a demon from Hell. Not sure I believe him, but he doesn't look human and seems to be the type who won't talk. At least not about your personal stuff.>

[He pauses, debating what to say next.]

<Obviously I don't trust him, and if he somehow is a demon from Hell that's even less reason to trust him. But there's things he might know, at least. He said he's been here a while. Ii know where he lives.>

From Hell?

[That just prompts a laugh.]

As if.

[Somehow, compared to everything they've been through, the idea of a 'Hell' full of little red guys with horns and pitchforks just sounds hilariously quaint. Cute, even.]

I mean, if you think he knows something, then it can't hurt to ask.

<He talked like he did. ... But maybe I shouldn't bother him in the middle of the night.>

[There's a small bit of shyness in his voice, the old Tobias leaking through slightly.]

<... I don't want you to have to see my nightmares. You shouldn't have to go through what I did.>

Give me a break, Tobias.

[... Okay, no, that came out wrong. Crap.]

We've all gone through stuff no kid our age should have to. A second-hand bad dream is hardly the worst thing on the list.

[Better. A little. She hopes.]

<I know! I know... it's just that... we've all had enough we've gone through. We don't need to put each other through it. I know - it's not like I'm trying to say you can't take it. You can. Of all people, you absolutely can. ... You just shouldn't have to.>

[He shuffles closer to her and leans against her. He's... he's here, as much as he can be.]

<... And Taylor's always been my problem to deal with. And I got you and everyone else involved with her plan and...>

[He shifts from side to side.]

<And my uncle is... was... just kind of... an awful person. I... hm. How to put it. ... I didn't need D.A.R.E. to keep me away from alcohol.>

[At first she gets a little frustrated- he's totally missing the point here- but when he moves closer to her- when she hears how he talks about Taylor- she can't stay annoyed.

She knows that holding him would be awkward and confining when he's a hawk, so she settles for resting a hand lightly against his back.]

We've had this conversation already. She wasn't your problem, your responsibility, or your fault.

[She was nobody's fault but her own. She was scum who deserved worse than she got, as far as Rachel was concerned. She got off light by dying before Rachel could get hands on her.

She restrains the urge to voice that thought out loud, though.]

...and your uncle was probably just... random dream stuff.

[Maybe. Probably not.]

<I know e have. ... I still feel... weird about it, though. I know I couldn't have saved her. I know she made her choice a long time ago. ... But part of her was fighting. Maybe that's enough.>

[Sure, she was a willing host, but he'd seen enough to know that it hadn't been that way, at the end. Maybe she deserved what she'd gotten, but part of her had died afraid and alone. ... The last bit of his humanity can't help but feel some way about that.]

<And... yeah. Maybe. Probably. ... He and my aunt show up in my dreams sometimes. It's like a taunt. 'these are the people you're fighting for?' But I know it's not just them. ... It just... I don't know.>

[It takes her a while to respond to that, her fingers idly running through the feathers on the back of his neck as she thinks.

Of course he knows about Taylor, but she knows as well as anybody that knowing it and believing it aren't the same thing. She can think of a few things she 'knows' herself.

What do you even say to that? Should she say she disagrees? That even his useless jerk aunt and uncle probably don't deserve to be Controllers? He knows that, that'd just make him feel worse. Try to comfort him? Would he just think she was babying him again?

Cassie would know. Cassie wasn't here, and she doesn't think she'd be welcome in this moment anyway. Ugh, why couldn't his pain just turn into something she could fight? Then she'd know what she was doing, at least.]

... How can I help?

[Better than nothing, even if she feels like a dork just asking like that.]

<... I don't know. I just... it makes me feel weak, having all of these points that not only our enemies can push on but my own brain can push on. But like... what am I supposed to do about it? There's not much I can do other than buckle down and get to work, or retreat back into the hawk.>

[And he doesn't want to do that. Not when Rachel's around. Not when she makes him feel like he can still be human.]

It's not weak. You aren't weak.

[It comes out before she can stop it, and a whole lot angrier than she would have liked. She takes a breath and steadies the shaking again.]

And it's not the hawk that makes you that way, either.

[Well, she went from pissed to bitter. Not really better. Come on, Rachel, get a grip-]

Nobody could go through what you want through and not be messed up by it. That doesn't mean you're weak. You survived.

<I know. ... I know.>

[He closes his eyes and lets out a mental sigh. How does he even explain?]

<Survival and fighting is what matters. So we need to try to figure out what to do. People here talk like they've got all the time in the world, but they're not dealing with the Yeerks.>

As long as we're here, neither are we. There's no mission, there's no danger. We can just relax and not worry.

[If there was one thing she could appreciate, it was that at least that was behind her. Logically, this was safety.

Of course, that went right back to 'knowing' and 'believing.' She still felt like the other shoe was gonna drop any minute.]

And even back home, it won't be forever. We-

[...she hesitates. Something feels slimy in her stomach. She ignores it.]

We'll have time. We can all... I dunno, get shrinks, or whatever people do.

[He's not convinced that they're not in danger. The anxiety is still there, even if he's not sure what to do with it.]

<Yeah. I mean... we have to win. There's no other option. Though I'm not sure any shrink would take a bird as a client. Or they'd need to consult with a falconer or something.>

We will.

[Is that spoilers-certainty or just her usual determined attitude? She's certainly not gonna clarify.]

And you're not a hawk.

[Wait-]

I mean, you are, but- these aren't hawk problems. This is vet stuff.

[Wait.]

Veteran, I mean. It's a war, right? The aliens and the morphing and that stuff are new, but the war stuff, people understand that. People can help you with that.

[...Us. She should have said 'us.' Whoops. Too late to correct it now, she'd just have to hope he didn't pick up on it.]

<I mean they are, but being a hawk affects stuff a lot. It's not like I'm who I was at the start of the war. You and the others are the only ones who understand what animal instincts are like.>

[He's about to 'yell' when she says 'vet', but calms down slightly. Slightly.]

<... And you. If - we all need help. Hell, even Ax. He grew up in a warrior culture but still probably needs help.>

[Do Andalites have therapists? It's an interesting thought, but not one he should be distracted by.]

<It's... I don't know. Some people here have already picked up on the fact that I'm both young and in a constant state of fighting. And they've been... like, sad about it but also nice about it? If this place really does pull in people from other worlds... we're not the only ones. Maybe the only ones who really get our specifics, but...>

[At first, she's annoyed- wasn't that what she'd been saying all along? After a moment, she realizes that she's not trying to win an argument here, she's trying to comfort her boyfriend.

Birdboy. Birdfriend. Whatever-he-was-friend. What he definitely wasn't was looking for an argument with Naomi Jr.]

If we showed up, maybe the others can too, right? Maybe it'd be good for all of us.

[She's not holding out hope. In some cases, she's even a little conflicted about seeing them at all. Marco would be insufferable, Ax was never close. Cassie... was complicated now. And Jake- Jake would be weird to see now. And not just for her own sake.

She has a feeling that what happened to her would come out sooner or later. She's definitely going to tell him. Eventually. When the time is right. And the last thing- the absolute last thing- they need is for him to start blaming Jake. Which he will, of course.]

Like a vacation. A vacation in terminally-fashionless ren faire land.

<Maybe. I... I mean there's weird stuff out in the woods, but it's fine. Maybe you can bring fashion to this place. You'd be good at it.>

[His tone is a little lighter, but it's still definitely down. He can't help but flinch as he remembers the dream again, fluffing up slightly.]

<... You should try to get back to sleep. I'm not sure if I can, but I'll be here.>

What am I, a miracle-worker?

[Well, he sounds a little better and he's cracking jokes, she'll take it.]

But yeah. More sleep, definitely. Otherwise I'll look like a zombie tomorrow.

[She's tempted to ask for more- for him to morph human, let her hold him, maybe lie with her as she sleeps- but that wouldn't really be about comforting him, that would be about comforting her, and she knows it. So she says nothing.

Instead, she withdraws her hand from his back, lies back down, and closes her eyes. Like him, she's not sure sleep's gonna happen, but she can try.]

[He resumes his perch near the window, doing his best to block the larger part of the cold air. They're used to California, after all. He hesitates and - screw it.]

<Sleep well, okay? Nothing's going to happen while I'm here.>

[He knows she doesn't need protection. He doesn't, either. But they're strange people in a strange land and they need every reassurance they can get.]

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Passive Dream Recording | The Box

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