Charlie & Vox

[minimorningstar]

Art by kokqus

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[trust_us_with_your]

Where was everybody? Didn't he have people? So many people... they were looking up to him, and they... they left him? They LEFT him, didn't warn him of something falling to strike him!

The city that stretched endlessly on was growing darker, darker, but he couldn't look back. He knew those things were still after him. His sprint had turned into a desperate clamoring, hands reaching out to catch light poles and brick walls, keep himself upright as he moved.

With the world too dark to see, Vincent struck a wall, felt pain explode through his face, his head. He heard something like glass breaking, felt something warm running down but he palpated the obstacle in front of him. He couldn't stop, not now, not when things were after him. Where was everyone?

Somebody?

Anybody!?

The shadows caught up, he was sure of it. They burned when they grabbed his legs and crawled their way up. They slithered up his body, poking and prodding, and he couldn't stop shaking. They crawled up his chest and neck, over his ears. They shut his panting mouth to keep them from working their way inside, but they clogged his nose. He couldn't breathe--

Vox's uncovered eye flew open, solid white against black. His scream was static-y garbage noise as he clawed at his face, trying to wrench off something that was covering it, smothering him. Shadows, dark things-

Lights? Lights. Gold and red. Red and gold. He was still as a statue, staring through Charlie, triangular pupil quivering. But slowly that eye focused. Focused.

"...Charlie?..." Speech. His voice was dry and thin, but... speech!

[minimorningstar]

"It's me," Charlie replied immediately, though guilt was all over her face. Oh no... that must've been her fault, it's just... she just didn't want him to be uncomfortable and in pain all night...!

But whatever happened, he was here now, and...

"You're safe, it's okay-- I think you were having a nightmare," she murmured apologetically, resting her hand on his face where a forehead ought to be. It was strange, how he sweated... had condensation? Something-- it was damp, either way. "You're safe, here... just catch your breath."

[trust_us_with_your]

His heart beat hard enough that he wondered if it could be heard, all but trying to claw its way through his ribs, or... whatever the fuck he had now.

His head felt like it was underwater, floating, and he still felt no pain aside from the ache of his muscles spasming and tightening in response to the all-out running he'd been doing in his mind. Nightmare... he had a nightmare... what was on his head?? Right... that is his head, now... it was broken...

His breaths, shallow gulps for air, slowed gradually. Okay, no wonder they made the stuff suuuper illegal.

"...Sorry," he managed, swallowed. "Damn, I... I don't usually have nightmares. First time for everything, right?..."

Another breath. Okay. He was okay. C'mon, you're a television legend. get your shit together.

"What- what time is it?" When everything was red as it ever was, it was pretty hard to get a sense of time already.