in our wake [o]

[king]

alex had dreamt up a bed. queen size, two pillows, standard navy blue sheets. he had woken up in one half, curled up in the blankets. he pulled the comforter up to his nose, turning over to face the other half of the bed. it was empty, as always.

every night he seemed to come to the same spot in his dreams. the other half of the bed would always be made, smelling of clean laundry detergent. the pillow was wrinkle free, and he would only wake up on one side of the bed every night. he would wake in the dream world, open his eyes to see no one beside him. oftentimes he would wonder if instead he had woken up in the land of nightmares, as it seemed that way to him.

loneliness ached in his bones. his chest burned with sorrow, wishing to wake up to someone beside him some day. on the other side of the bed was a window. only of late would he appear in the moonlit station. alex would look out the window to endless cold space and brilliant stars.

nothing could compare to the heat of another body though. nothing could compare to affection he so desperately yearned for. physical flings could never count, he always left afterwards. he would rather wake up alone than with someone who meant nothing to him.

most nights, anyway.

he sat at the edge of the bed, face pressed against the cold glass window. his breath fogged, one slender finger drawing a star in the fog. his eyes were dull, tired. even in his dreams alex had dark circles under his eyes.

[vertigo]

he was a child in his better dreams.

"leave me alone," he had told the darkened, wilting pokémon, and they left him. all alone, he wandered through the land of red skies and twisted trees, and emerged into a station from which he could see the stars. they were beautiful. he had never remembered seeing them as clearly as could now. the stars in his memories were always dim and distant. they watched over him, but were far away.

they could never get close to him, because he would get burned by their embrace.

so they always kept their distance, and he would meander about on the ground below, too far away to harm but close enough to see.

"brother," he called, almost in a staccato.

he could run anywhere as long as he was on the ground, but he never escaped the gaze of those who lived in the skies.

"... brother," he said again, with less hesitance.

king
(( i'm just hopping in here since they need a thread anyway ))

[king]

he hears something, a voice that was almost horrifingly familiar. he looks on to ismael, hesitant to respond at first. "ismael. what are you doing here?" alex gets out of the bed and walks over to his younger brother, embracing the child. "it's not always safe to wander around in your dreams."

leading ismael to the bed, he beckons him to sit on the edge. "you're... younger, ismael." alex points out, confused. he treads lightly, knowing the spite that ismael holds for him.

vertigo

[vertigo]

he didn't reject his brother. a land without red skies and voices whispering in his ears made him more reasonable a person. without the hushed murmurs urging him on to do something beyond his will, he was better off. more level-headed, less inclined to scream murder at the idea of someone getting too close. perhaps being in the amberwell when he last met his brother had had something to with it.

he didn't like himself when he was volatile. it felt wrong to act rashly, when he could stand and observe from afar.

he allowed himself to be led over to the bed, and obediently, he sat where he was pointed to. his skin and hair was as pale as ever, though his cheeks were no longer rosy and tinted as if he were feverish. he seemed happier, more content.

this wasn't a place of twisted nightmares that promised him a world where the stars would no longer burn him. this place seemed more grounded in reality. more stable than the one before.

"am i?" he asked. his voice was soft and less apprehensive; this was a boy of nine-and-a-half years, unwary of the world and the dangers that laid within. "i'm your younger brother; of course i'm younger."

it seemed logical. all dreams were while one was in them; each piece and each step was sound, and yet, when glanced at in hindsight, proved to be illogical. how fickle, how strange.

he looked up at his brother.

king

[king]

his mouth twisted, lips pursed as he wondered. perhaps ismael liked his childhood better, but alex doubted that he could remember it. he could still feel the virus in ismael, could feel his own heart respond to it.

perhaps it was the time to rekindle that what was lost when they were children.

"yeah, i guess so. silly me." alex chuckled. "are you hungry or thirsty?"

in the back of his head, alex remembered a time when he had asked ismael the same thing. back then, however, they were no more than a foot tall. ismael would simply babble happily, just like any other infant.

"it's the dream world, so you can have whatever you want."

vertigo

[vertigo]

mechanically, he shook his head. 'don't take things from strangers,' mother used to say. but his brother wasn't a strange, and yet -- he had shaken his head. perhaps he was not hungry or thirsty. he wasn't sure.

he was content to sit on the bed and stare out at the stars, though.

here, he felt closer to them.

"it's past supper," said he, "we shouldn't be eating." he tugged a pillow into his arms and hugged it. the pillow was fluffy and almost too large to wrap his arms around with, but he managed. he buried his face in the soft texture and mumbled:

"i don't want to go to bed yet."

the stars twinkled.

he wanted to watch them fade into the brightness of dawn. he couldn't keep walking in darkness so that they could keep watch over him.

and yet when daylight came and they went away, he felt lonely.

king

[king]

alex's breath catches. "that's okay." he murmurs, hesitantly raising a hand. he swallows before resting it on ismael's shoulder, leaning in to whisper. "mom isn't here, we can stay up as late as we want."

there was no arguing downstairs, no furniture crashing around and verbal assaults thrown. it was quiet in the station.

"what do you want to do?"

every action felt like walking on egg shells, not sure where he would hit to set off a bomb. sooner or later, ismael would remember that he hated alex. sooner or later, alex would no longer be forgiven.

vertigo

[vertigo]

"really?"

he was like a child who had seen the first meteor shower of the year, and clasped his hands tightly to wish for something. 'i wish, i wish for -- no, i'm not telling you.'' and then he'd smile to himself, shyly, awkwardly. if only he could keep himself a secret from others.

"then -- then i want to --"

his voice was young. he threw his head backwards and into his brother's body, and he laid against him for a while with the pillow against his chest.

shooting stars were fleeting moments.

"iunno," he said. "it all seems a bit strange, brother."

king

[king]

alex was completely thrown. it was so unfamiliar. he adjusted himself so that his arms wrapped around ismael's torso lightly, looking out the window to the stars. "yeah." he murmured. "the world's kind of weird in general."

he took a deep breath.

pointing out the window, he gestured to a cluster of stars. "see those stars? the ones that look like a funky spoon?" he drew it out, connecting the dots. "that one is called the big dipper. there's a littler version too. like the big dipper's little brother. so they called it the little dipper."

vertigo

[vertigo]

"the big dipper and the little dipper," he repeated after his brother.

he was content to listen, to sit in the silence that came after his words. he watched the shapes in the distance; even though he couldn't quite see it, he believed that they were there. his brother was a liar about things, but he knew that he could not simply lie about the stars like he could scrapes and falls.

if the little dipper was the big dipper's little brother, what did it mean? what purpose did they serve?

it was of little concern to a child as young as ismael was. perhaps in a few years, perhaps when he woke up, he would know. the virus didn't save him because it was feeling charitable.

"i can't see the little dipper."

because it didn't shine until it was dark enough, and only those farther gone than it was could see where it laid and what it stood for. the big dipper pointed to polaris and in turn, polaris was a part of the little dipper.

perhaps that counted for something, after all.

king

[king]

he looked around through the window, trying to see if he could find the little dipper. it took a few minutes, before he suddenly pointed out the window. "there!" he traced it with his finger. "do you see it now?"

alex didn't know anything more about the constellations, but he had certainly known what his mother had once told him.

"stars are what happen when a person dies. they go up into the sky and become a star. like grandpa, he's up there somewhere."

at nineteen, alex knew it was a lie. stars were just hot balls of gas that were probably already dead by the time he could see them. but children deserved a world of wonder, to believe, while they were young, that everything was magical. let them live in bliss while they can, before the world crashed down upon them.

vertigo

[vertigo]

he didn't really see the little dipper, but he did see his brother's hand trace the shape out in the dark sky, and that was enough for him. he nodded, shifting slightly in his brother's grasp so that he could hug the pillow a little tighter. "mhm."

at the same time, he didn't really remember grandpa. whatever times spent with him hadn't been of much note, but yes, such a person had existed in his life. once again, he nodded. "there's an awful lot of dead people out there," he observed. so many stars; so many dead people. did it make sense?

it made too much sense.

"there are people whom i don't want to see become stars," he suddenly said.

king

[king]

alex looked down at ismael, silent for a moment. his eyes went back up to the stars, one hand smoothing out ismael's hair. "like who?" he whispered, heart pounding. "and how come?"

there was an answer he wanted, he needed, but alex doubted he would get it. but still, it didn't stop him from hoping. there were endless regrets from his childhood, things that he wished he could change. ways he behaved he wished hadn't happened.

but he could only dream of that time long ago. when he woke up, it would be gone.

vertigo

[vertigo]

"lots of people," said he.

there were people whom he felt didn't deserve death; there were those whom he thought were beyond redemption and didn't deserve to become a star; and then there was pure selfishness, people who ought to become stars but he simply didn't want them to.

he squirmed in his brother's grasp, and let go of the pillow so he could hug him.

"don't go," he said.

he didn't think that his brother deserved to die; he thought that he was beyond redemption, yes, but to wish for his brother to watch over him was an idea he couldn't accept; and there were things that he couldn't change even if he wanted to.

"don't become a star."

king

[king]

alex thought his body would freeze up. his muscles would tense, jaw clenching. he felt instead something sting at his eyes. he played the words his brother spoke again and again in his mind, hugging ismael close to his chest. a droplet landed on ismael's hair, that alex quickly wiped away from his cheek.

everyone dies eventually. there were countless people in eos trying to destroy alex's very essence, as well as ismael once they found out what he was. he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

there was only silence, besides alex's slightly hiccuped breathing. he held his younger brother close, wanting to protect him from the virus, wishing that they had never been infected.

"i won't if you won't." he finally mustered, glad his voice didn't crack. "pinky promise?" he pulled back and offered his left pinky, a sad smile on his face.

both of them would break the promise. it was inevitable.

vertigo