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Gillion's wounds ached.
Black, irritated marks that sent waves of pain through him when he stretched too far or bent over or moved in pretty much any direction at all.
He'd been fine the night before, he'd been fine through the game of tag, ignoring how the strain made his head woozy from pain, so why now-
Sleep came surprisingly easy.
The lack of nightmares - curse related or otherwise - the night before had made him complacent, left him unsuspecting
Gods, why did he go back to sleep? Why did he try to- to fight them? This was what the shadowy figures of the elders meant. He never thought things through.
"I made eggs," his mother said, her face there but he can't remember it when he blinks, he can't picture it when he looks away. "Why don't you go get your sister, and we can have some dinner, all four of us?"
Wordlessly, Gillion nodded. He knew it didn't work to fight. It made his mother - the thing pretending to be his mother - upset, when he destroyed things, when he proved it was fake, so by now he'd settled on waiting until… Until.
The door creaked open on his sister's body. His mother didn't hear him scream.
He'd tried to tell her, tell her that it was all fake, before. It never worked.
("You have to understand, I can't- I can't! I just can't because my sister is dead and you aren't my mother !"
"Gillion, why would you say something like that?" She looked near tears, he thought, before he glanced away in shame and forgot her expression. "I know you can be… Brash, at times, maybe even a little blunt, but never this cruel. What is wrong with you?"
Everything about this, he wanted to cry. Everything happening here is wrong. You're wrong, the corpse of my sister waiting behind the door down the hall is wrong, and I'm worried if I'm here too long, I'll be wrong too.
He didn't end up saying anything at all.
He just stood, resolutely not seeing the face she pulled, and opened the door.)
He'd tried not looking at the corpse, or the message written in blood.
(Gillion kept his eyes closed at first, digging his pointed teeth into his lip to avoid crying.
This was everything he fought to avoid. This was everything he never wanted.
His sister was supposed to be safe, especially now that he was away from her and had no way of calling.
His eyes shot open when his mother popped her head in to check on them and screamed, a shrill, painful sound.
She blamed him, in the end, before the scene changed again.)
He'd tried avoiding the door entirely.
("I'm not feeling up to dinner," he told his mother, not lying, as he felt nauseous from… Everything. "I think I'm just going to lay down."
His mother frowned, putting a webbed hand on his forehead. "Alright. Let me know if you want anything later, okay?"
It was almost worse, seeing her act so attentive and kind, than it was to live with how she really was, up until the elders decided his training took priority over his home life.
His heart skipped a beat as he passed the door he knew lead to Edyn's body, and he reached for what he thought might be his door.
As soon as his hand hit the knob, that overwhelming sense of dread hit him. His breath hitched, his shoulders tensed, and he nearly wrenched the doorknob out of the wall as he leapt backwards. He sank to the floor and curled in on himself, fingers nestled firmly in his hair, tugging on it and his coral crown. It was just… Him being terrified after so many doors, right? It had to be.
It had to be.
He tried to compose himself, offering a weak smile to his father, who seemed to believe it as he walked out of a room at the end of the hall.
That had to be his parents' room, right? Or, the equivalent of his parents' room, at least.
…Everyone was at dinner. Everyone being just his parents, of course, because Edyn was-
No one would notice if he just. Opened a door. Nothing would happen, and he could go back to his usual nightmares that only played through once before he awoke.
He was shaking enough that it took him four tries to get a proper grip on the handle of the door.
Gillion pulled it open slowly, fighting against that surge of terror and dread.
He caught a glimpse of purple, and his heart sank.
He looked up fully, and Edyn was there; she was, to put it bluntly, in pieces. Dismembered. It was violent.
He felt sick.
Desperately, he opened another door.
Her sightless eyes were fixed at a point just to the left of him.
And another.
This one looked fresher than the others, blood still seeping into the carpet, despite how much had been used to write the message on the walls.
And another door-
This one, in sharp contrast, was half rotten, small white bugs he didn't recognise - undoubtedly from the surface - squirming in and out of the violent severing points.
Another door, his actual home didn't have any doors, this fake home didn't have this many doors-
She was missing her eyes, here. And her coral. Gillion wanted to cry. Gillion was crying. Gillion had been crying, since the first time he saw his sister's corpse.)
Nothing worked.
And the setting of the nightmare was… Changing.
"Hey, Gill!" Jay called from the top of the stairs, one hand gripping the frame of the kitchen doorway as she leaned in, the other holding the edge of the curtain above his head. "Breakfast! Old man Earl made eggs, I know you love them!"
"Yeah, it's a little weird, considering, y'know," Chip added, gesturing towards him offhandedly. "Go wake up Edyn, she's been watching Finn all night, she's gotta be starving by now."
"Maybe she'd like you more if you expressed more concern to her when she was here, " Jay grumbled, elbowing him, before turning back to the triton, who was sitting in his barrel, thoroughly disoriented with the abrupt change in scenery. "Anyways, Gillion, we'll handle setting the table and stuff today, you go wake your sister." She tilted her head at him. "And if you're not feeling well, you can take the day off today."
"Yeah, you look like shit, dude, and that's coming from me, " Chip agreed, before Jay's elbow jammed into his side again, more aggressively. "Hey! Rude! It's true!"
" I was talking about how he was late getting up. You're not usually up until half past noon! For all you know, he always looks like this when he wakes up." She paused, face furrowed worriedly. "...He doesn't, though. Are you okay, Gill?"
"I am alright," he told them, and it was truth - it had to be, because Edyn was the one injured here, Edyn was the one who was dead, Edyn was the one who was ripped limb from limb, mangled until she was dancing the line of unrecognisable-
"There is no need to worry about me!" He finished, aiming for his usual boisterousness. "I'll go fetch my sister now!"
"...Okay," Chip acquiesced, after a moment's pause. "Would you mind fishing with Ollie today, though? You don't have to do anything, just sit next to him and supervise."
…How peculiar.
"Of course, Chip! Young Oliver and I will catch the greatest spawn the sea has to offer!"
"You have fun with that," Jay told him, smiling slightly. "We should go actually finish what we were told to do before Earl kills us."
Gillion tried not to flinch at that.
"You said Edyn slept at Finn's bedside, yes? I will return with her in tow for breakfast, or not at all!" He knew he wasn't going to come back; that's not how this worked. He got there, he saw what happened, and he was there just long enough to process some small part of it and then it was back at it again from the top, but slightly to the left.
Now, for some reason, he was with his crew, though. And now, he was scared.
More terrified than when it was his parents.
He couldn't be devastated by their fear and anger and disgust the few times they saw what happened, because even that was an improvement on when they refused to acknowledge him outside of his duties with the elders.
But his crew mates, his co-captains? He'd seen them at their lowest - he'd been hurt by them at their lowest, Chip's lies leaving him distrustful of everything he was told about the surface for a good long time, Jay's bow leaving him with a pockmark scar and a flinch he fought back every time he heard her release the string, and he'd hurt them, at what he'd thought was his lowest, baring open the festering wounds of his exile and disappearing in the feywild and forcing them to rescue him, neither one willing to let him out of their sight for several days.
This, however, this was a new low. This was all his ugliest parts bared, all his fears visible, his walls destroyed because it had been so long, how long had he been asleep for?
He'd lost track of how many times he'd played this through.
He was standing in front of the door to where his grandfather was sprawled in the bathtub.
His hand was resting on the door, palm flat, fingers splayed, the delicate webbing laced with scars and missing a few chunks.
The now unfortunately familiar feeling of sickening dread washed over him.
He'd really been hoping he'd woken up.
He was really hoping he'd somehow managed to forget Edyn's return, to forget that she was on the ship.
Gillion grimaced, gritting his teeth and shoving the door open before he could think twice.
Stupidly, the thing that caught his attention first wasn't the corpse. His grandfather wasn't in there, for some reason.
Edyn was in his place, the bathtub partially full of her blood, her head lolled back over the side.
He shut the door.
What else could he do?
He couldn't do anything.
He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his face furiously.
"Gillion!" Ollie drew out the last syllable of his name, as he picked up his barrel.
It was… Odd, the disjointed way that he would be somewhere, and then suddenly somewhere else, without feeling like he'd moved at all.
"Come on, Gillion!"
He can't.
Ollie gave it a shake, pout audible in his voice. "Seriously? The one time Earl lets me make breakfast, you don't want any? You're so- so mean!"
If Gillion had to go through this again, to the point where he won't be able to believe his crew is real when he awoke, to the point where he won't be able to tell? He might not make it another night.
He was suddenly hyper aware of the way his sword's scabbard dug into his skin from where it was trapped between him and the side of his barrel, and of how easy it would be to go along with Ollie until he was alone, to maybe end this nightmare-
No.
No, that was a line he would not cross. Could not cross.
Chip had gone through this before, he knew the nightmares had an end. Even if Chip's had been very, very different.
"It's okay, Ollie, Gill's just grumpy. Maybe some eggs would help him feel better…?" Chip trailed off, drumming his fingers on the barrel.
Reluctantly, Gillion poked his head out. He knew his co-captain, and soon he'd be forced out, if he didn't get out on his own.
"Got him!" Chip grinned, patting Ollie's shoulder. "You've got it from here, kid. I'll go make sure Jay and Drey know breakfast is ready, if you and Gill can get the rest of us together?"
"Of course!" Ollie chirped, nodding vigorously. "Let's go, Gillion!"
"I'll be just a moment, young Ollie," Gillion assured him, digging his claws into his knee where he was still hidden by his barrel. It can't last much longer, surely.
In a brief moment of weakness, he almost wanted to ask Ollie to wake Edyn, check on Finn, and fetch Alphonse, while Gillion got Drey, Queen, and Gryffon (and maybe Filipe? He wasn't certain who was on this version of the ship).
Almost immediately though, he pushed that thought aside - he wasn't certain if his sister's body was always there, or if he was the trigger, and even though this version of Ollie was fake, Gillion couldn't bear to risk him seeing the gruesome sight that lurked behind every door the triton had opened in the last however long it had been.
He knew he was being uncharacteristically quiet as they made their way into the rest of the crew's quarters, Ollie nervously chattering at him, answering his own questions and pausing occasionally for a reply that Gillion could only muster more than a nod or shake of his head for a fraction of the time.
"-and Chip said no, but honestly I'm still not sure if he was lying, because he's held to it pretty well, but we all know how far he'll go for a bit," Ollie had been saying, waving his hands around to emphasise his story. He was pretty certain it was about when they'd docked at a C-Mart a few weeks ago to restock their supplies, but he wasn't able to focus long enough to confirm.
"Young Oliver, would you like to fetch Alphonse, Queen, and Gryffon? I can retrieve the other three."
Ollie gave him a thumbs up, the other hand fidgeting with his hair, curling through loose strands and messing with one of the braids. "You got it!"
Gillion returned the gesture, forcing himself to smile. It would do no good to make Ollie worried, even if he wasn't real.
It only took a moment to walk over to where Finn was.
He was in front of the door again.
Not giving himself any time to think, pushed it open.
Edyn was there - of course she was - and Finn… Finn was awake.
"What have you done, " his grandfather asked, voice a hoarse, mocking imitation of what Gillion remembered it to be, warped and distorted by time. "She was the good one of you two. Why was it her? Why wasn't it you?"
"I… I don't…" Gillion had asked himself that every time he went through this.
His eyes slipped shut for a moment, to push back tears, and when they opened, Jay, Chip, and Ollie's bodies had joined his sister's.
It wasn't real. It couldn't be real, he'd just sent Ollie off seconds ago.
But it felt real.
The blood, the mixture of red and purple staining the hem of his pants, felt real.
The sight of Jay's back, torn open, wing tattoos destroyed, of Chip's burnt and mangled skin, of Ollie's body, crushed in a sickeningly familiar way, almost behind recognition, save for his twin braids, the red dye blending in with the blood stains.
It felt real.
He woke up.
No one was there, this time.
Gillion stood, stepping out of his barrel.
Calmly, he picked it up, and smashed it onto the floor.
He drew his sword, stabbed it into the wooden floor beneath him, and kicked over the nightstand table by Chip's bed. He tore at the ornate map of Mana hanging over Jay's bed. He ripped his own hammock off the wall.
It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
"Gillion! Earl made eggs- oh, man, what happened? " Chip stood at the top of the stairs, curtain pushed aside. Jay was behind him. They both looked shocked, concerned. "Hey, Gill, you alright? Did- what happened?"
"...It's nothing, Chip. It will not last long." Gillion sheathed his sword, sitting down abruptly in the middle of the destruction.
He'd wrecked the fake version of what was meant to be his childhood home innumerable times, to remind himself it was fake, because it never lasted. He'd blink and it would be gone and no one would remember.
His eyes stung after a few minutes of staring at the floor.
Chip and Jay were whispering to each other.
His eyes slipped closed for only a moment.
Everything was back to how it was before.
Gillion fought back tears. He brushed past Chip and Jay, even as they tried to ask him what he was doing, and opened the first door he saw.
Chip and Jay's presence behind him vanished, and when he managed to gather enough courage to look, their corpses were curled together, like they'd tried to protect each other before death. Edyn was torn in half behind them, blood painting the walls in that same. Awful. Message.
Gillion woke up.
He was back in his barrel.
He took a few minutes to cry, quietly, before stepping out again.
The curtain was different.
It was still cloth, a rough, scratchy canvas that Gillion found soothing on good days and unbearable on bad ones, but it was patterned to look like wood.
To look like a door.
He pulled it aside, and… Found the fake version of his old home. The version that was wrong, because it wasn't underwater and he couldn't quite remember what it was supposed to look like but he knew that this was not it.
His gills felt dry, his head was pounding, and his heart was trying to tear apart everything in his chest.
Tears burning his eyes, he walked further in.
"Hey Gillion," his mother greeted, smiling softly. For a moment, Jay was in her place, then Finn, then his mother was back. "You want eggs? You can go fetch your sister and we'll eat together."
Silently, Gillion turned and walked back into their quarters, except-
Except, the curtain is gone.
A door is in its place.
"Is something wrong, Gill?" Chip asked, his father asked, Caspian asked- "You look upset."
"Everything is wrong," he replied, staring at the floor, unwilling to look at the ever-shifting face of the person - thing? - in front of him. "Everything is wrong, and it always starts with those fucking eggs. "
"Gillion!" His mother snapped, more similar to how he remembered her than she had been through every scene. "A champion does not use that kind of language! What example are you setting for your people? What kind of family do you want the elders to think we are?"
"Sorry, Gill, eggs are all we have," Jay said, shrugging. "We might be able to catch some fish for you, though - Ollie's been on a bit of a kick with that. I think he and Chip do father-son bonding?"
He clamped his hands over his ears, not wanting to hear more.
It didn't work.
Abruptly, he woke up in his barrel, shooting to his feet, but not quite stepping out.
He stared at the wall, furious at the vice admiral for doing this, and terrified of how much longer it was going to go on for.
Hair hung in wet, curly sheets in front of his eyes, hiding the frustrated tears that slipped down his face.
Chip yawned. "Hey Gill. You want breakfast?" He rolled out of bed, strolling into the kitchen.
"Um, Gill, you look like Chip, what's up with that?" Jay was squinting at him, rubbing one of her eyes.
"Don't say that - is this another nightmare?" Gillion looked around, confused. Usually there wasn't any real… Idle conversation, in these nightmares.
"Mm, okay, you want breakfast?" Jay parroted Chip's offer, sending a jolt of terror through the triton's veins.
"What're we having?" He asked, hesitantly.
"I'm making eggs!" Chip called from the kitchen, drawing out the last word in a sing-songy manner.
Gillion's heart dropped to his feet, blood draining from his face.
"Wake up wake up wake up wake up-!" Gillion started kicking at the things in the room, scrubbing at his face as he destroyed whatever he could get his hands on.
"No no no no-!" Jay grabbed at his arms, trying to placate him.
Tears dripped onto the wooden floor in front of him. "Don't go through the fucking door, Jay! Don't open the door!"
Chip, in the kitchen and oblivious, called down again. "Sounds like someone's excited for eggs!"
Shivering, Gillion made his way upstairs.
"No- no eggs." He said, resolutely, shaking his hands out even as Jay gently took his sword and laid it next to the shattered remains of his barrel, before following him upstairs.
"Okay? You want toast?" Chip asked, concerned, as she gripped his hand, squeezing lightly, smiling in a way that was meant to be reassuring but was laced with a touch too much fear for it to truly be so.
"Yeah. I'll have toast."
Most of what happened next was a blur, Gillion too focused on getting rid of those awful eggs-
Vaguely, he registered pulling up his shirt to show the wounds, leaking a dark, black ooze that tried to stick his skin to the fabric.
He came back into awareness when Chip offered him the bracelet.
"Would it be okay if I… saw it?" His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips pulled down in a slight frown as he laced his free hand's fingers with Gillion's.
"Are you really sure?" Gillion questioned, voice slightly less flat than it had been before as he started fiddling with his co-captain's knuckles.
"Been there before," came the nonchalant response, accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders and a nervous look that betrayed the true feeling behind it.
"I don't know man. I really don't know with this one." He was dead serious, scratching at his arms in discomfort until Chip, looping both bracelets around his own wrist momentarily, grabbed his other hand to stop him.
"Up to you, but… that way you won't have to explain it or relive it or anything." It was a nice offer - but not quite how they worked, if Gillion remembered the bracelets' mechanics properly. Which was fine, it's not like he could think of much else.
"You got the scars. It's bad. I know you're strong, and I trust you, but… You can just take my word for it. It's bad. If you really want to see…" He held his arm out, looking somewhere to the left of Chip's concerned gaze.
For a beat, Chip just blinked, confused, until he put two and two together and slid it onto his wrist.
Gillion watched Chip progressively pale, before he pulled the triton into a hug, fingers digging into the cloth of his sleeveless turtleneck.
"...Oh my god." Chip breathed, after a pause. It was shaky, like Gillion's hands.
Still, though, he had to know. "Was there another way to save her?" Tears had welled up in his eyes, and he rubbed his arm over them.
Not answering, Chip had started pacing in circles around the table where Jay was eating her breakfast. "Okay. That's… Not great. And- and the writing?"
"He just wanted to worm that in there, I think."
"Why wouldn't he?" Chip laughed, bitter. Irrationally, Gillion almost wanted to be angry; what did he have to be bitter about? He fought it back though, reminding himself that Chip had been through the same thing, that he was someone Chip cared about, that Chip had every reason to be bitter, to be mad.
Slowly, some of the guilt from tossing every egg on the ship over the side of the boat started creeping up on him. "We've got plenty of other breakfast foods, I can take-"
"Hey." Chip cut him off gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. "No more… No more eggs."
"No more eggs." A solemn agreement, not without a hint of gratitude.
"And hey, when he comes back?" Chip knocked his fist against the top of Gillion's head. "We'll be ready. And we'll kick his fucking ass. Again."
"Yeah. Wonder if he's gonna miss this." Gillion pulled out the hand from his pocket, setting it on the table with a loud, slightly wet, thunk.
There was a long and poignant pause.
"Come on man, I'm eating!" Jay complained loudly, breaking the tension that had been settling over the ship all morning.
"Holy shit." Chip's eyes were wide, staring at the limb.
There was a kind of poetic irony, if Gillion had the energy to look for it, in having this hand after so many scenes of sister missing her limbs.
"Why do you just have that on you?" Jay was shouting, now, pulling her plate off the table and leaning as far back as she could without toppling over.
"That's a hand, that's just a hand!" Chip was grabbing her shoulder and shaking her back and forth, causing most of her food to fall onto the floor.
"That's a hand, that's a hand- "
Gillion watched as Chip made her touch the fur, commenting on it himself, and, despite the curse and the endless nightmares… He had a feeling that whatever they did, he'd be okay.
Besides, Chip was saying he might have a solution - what's the worst that could come from that?