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The elevator was freezing. Or perhaps it wasn’t the elevator itself that was cold, but rather Sigma who was chilled to the bone, the feeling was similar to an iced washcloth that had been draped over Sigma’s shoulders, water dripping down, through their thin surface of their clothes, and spreading that chill even further.
Déjà vu. That was the name given to the phenomenon that you had already experienced the present, and yet no matter how much Sigma wracked they brain they could find no answer to what made this scene so familiar. It was just out of their metaphorical grasp.
The rush of water brought them back out of their mind, heavy liquid pooling around their feet and the sound surrounding them. This too was familiar, a shame they couldn’t remember how they dealt with this previously.
As the water gradually rose from their ankles to their mid-calves to their knees, reaching higher and higher, they began to feel their mind closing down, breathing harder and heavier as panic swirled inside.
This was how they were going to die. Alone in a freezing cold elevator with water that was about to fill their lungs and there was no one to save them, no one who would come for their rescue because who ever needs Sigma unless if it’s to acquire whatever it is that they desire that’s in their possession, a means to an end.
A hand pushing their head under the now chest height water was unexpected, appreciated because at least they weren’t going to be the only one that is left unsaved but on the other hand they felt sympathetic for whatever poor soul had gotten themselves trapped in this predicament alongside Sigma.
The other was speaking however the heavy water distorted their words, their smooth voice speaking morphing into white noise in Sigma's head.
Sigma’s mind blurred after that, one moment there was water weighing down on them, the need for oxygen burning into their lungs so harshly Sigma feared that they would never be able to forget that ache in their lives, and the next they were holding open the doors to the elevator, the water that had previously towered above them gushing out and letting the much needed oxygen in. Sigma was left gasping like a fish out of water in the aftermath, relief making them forget about the deep chill that had been sinking through their skin and into their bones as more and more time passed. Their saviour could not be seen from where they were currently, but that’s okay Sigma thought, at least we had each other.
And they had saved Sigma.
The faceless hero saving the one who nobody wishes to play saviour towards without a covetous reason. It almost sounds like a fairy tale to Sigma, something so unheard of before that truly nothing but a desperate human mind could’ve made it up.
Just as Sigma was about to raise their head and thank their rescuer, the elevator lurched sharply, flinging Sigma backwards away from the open doors and distantly their mind noted another crash into the same wall. Their saviour is also in the same predicament as them it would seem.
A robotic voice could be faintly heard but the words blended in as background noise to the sheer panic that had taken Sigma’s mind first and forefront. They had already just narrowly escaped one of death’s grasp, why did another try and grip onto them so soon after? Was a chance to breathe too much to ask for in this moment?
The elevator was plunging downwards, the other floors blending into one another with how swift their descent was, and with the constant jerking in different directions it made it impossible to get towards the ajar doors.
This was death at it’s most certain.
The cold crept even further into Sigma, its chill consuming them entirely and making them still, the mere idea of moving a single limb, a single finger, or a single twitch of an eyelid seem comparable to climbing the tallest of mountains without oxygen tanks.
Then hands could be felt on their back, and before they even knew they were flying across the cold floor, through the elevator’s doors and landing onto a solid floor outside of the elevator. It all happened in the blink of an eye and yet suddenly the cold burrowed deep into their chest, the frost tendrils reaching out to brush against their heart, but movement had returned to them, and they sat up in time to see their saviour.
A man in washed-out prison clothes, chocolate locks sticking to his face and the back of his neck and amber eyes that seemed to burn, not harsh and destructive like a wildfire, but soft and comforting like a candle’s flame.
A name was on the tip of their tongue, but it couldn’t escape from Sigma’s frozen lips.
“I leave… the rest to you.”
And then the elevator dropped, sending him down with it.
Sigma’s outstretched hand (when did they even moved to reach out to grasp at the other?) stilled, and soon the only thing in front of them was the empty elevator shaft, a continuous spiral of emptiness, just never ever ending despair.
And the cold dug straight into their heart, frost thickened into ice, and the ice spiked deep into their heart and shattered all that remained of their heart, as Sigma let out all of their pitiful feelings into words, into bloodcurdling, heart wrenching screams.
They only continued to repeat one word over and over again.
Dazai. Dazai. Dazai.
For that was his saviour, his hero’s name. Dazai Osamu.
He consumed their thoughts; his voice infested his memories, and his face occupied their mind wholly. His name was the only solace, and yet it brought equal amounts of agony as it did comfort.
Their outstretched hand gradually pulled in on itself, coming up to cradle at the bottom of Sigma’s face as they wept. Tears flowing down their face, and no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t stifle all the hiccups and ugly sniffles.
Sigma’s head dropped, their hair pooling around them like a protective curtain as their shoulders shook, images of Dazai’s crippled body, of the walls and floors being painted in a thick crimson as his body laid crushed under the elevator. Did he die smiling? Smiling at the thought of saving Sigma, even if it was at the cost of his own life? Or did he die with regrets?
They couldn’t bring themselves to stand, grief crippling them, the coldness seeping from their skin and solidifying into chains to keep them trapped, looking down into the endless chasm.
Sigma screamed. Shrill and terrifying. They were… not at the edge of the elevator shaft? No, they we’re sat up on their bed, the sheets ripped off of them in the mindless pre-waking terror and landing in a pile that covers their legs and the body next to them.
Their shoulders shook in hysteria, someone moving up to sit next to them, but Sigma’s mind was shutting down, closing in on itself to try and protect itself from the dream (because that’s all it was, and yet they’re here still shaking and wailing in the aftermath).
“Sigma, dear? Can you hear me?”
His voice, sweet as honey yet thick from sleep.
Sigma threw themselves onto Dazai, tightening their arms around his shoulders, burying their face into the dip of their neck. Sobs wracked their body uncontrollably.
Dazai was here and yet they could not stop their mind from replaying the image of Dazai stained in scarlet, his blood dripping and painting the whole scene like it was a renaissance painting, emotion bleeding through the nightmare until it’s cold grasp could grasp at Sigma, drowning, suffocating, killing them.
The image only made them sob harder, their hands tightening so much that their knuckles started turning white.
Dazai seemed to have realised now that Sigma was so deep in their mind that they wouldn’t be able to comprehend what they were saying and so he simply settled on rubbing circles into their back with one hand, the other stroking through Sigma’s hair with the gentlest of touches.
Eventually, Sigma’s breaths started to even out until it had returned to normal, their heart’s erratic beats steadying out however they stayed buried against Dazai’s chest, taking solace in the sound of
own heartbeat filling their ears.
“You okay?” Dazai asked after a while of them just lying in each other’s embrace.
Sigma couldn’t help themselves at that, their shoulders started shaking violently as they burst into laughter. ‘Are you okay?’ after all of that, waking Dazai up in their panic, their inability to calm their own racing heart and mind. It was born out of Dazai’s awkwardness when it came to how to approach situations like these, but it just made him so very endearing.
After Sigma had calmed down, Dazai started to pull out of Sigma’s arms – not fully, just enough to be able to look into their eyes as they talked.
“Do you need anything at all?”
Sigma exhaled, their voice still far to shaky for their liking. “A glass of water would be nice.”
Dazai nodded his head and slowly unwrapped Sigma’s arms from around him, before swiftly walking out of their bedroom.
Even though Sigma knows Dazai would only be gone for a few minutes, five at most, they could still feel it.
icy tendrils coiling themselves closer and closer around their throat, scratchy claws teasing threats into their skin like a snake would wrap itself around its prey.
Sigma was brought out of their thoughts by the feeling of cool glass nudging at their slightly trembling hands. They took it, pressing the chilled glass against their forehead, hoping that the gentle cold would douse out the memory of its biting companion from their dreams.
Dazai sat back down on their bed next to them, the dim light of the moon illuminating his features in the softest of brushstrokes, “Do you want to talk about it, or do you just want to do something else to distract yourself?”
It certainly wasn’t the first night terror that one of the two had faced, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, and yet it was the first time Sigma had dreamed so vividly of that moment. Most of their dreams were of fabricated events, or of their time with Dostoevsky and the Decay of Angels, or of the destruction of the Sky Casino. Whilst Dazai was a recurring character in their dreams, rarely was their shared time in Meursault featured in anything other than brief flashes, passing comments and blurs.
So, to see him so vividly once more in his near death, and the images of his corpse mangled beyond recognition, insides torn and undertones of copper filling the senses, no wonder Sigma reacted as violently as they did. After so many years since the events of Meursault you’d think that they would be locked at the back of their memories, collecting dust after being buried deep beneath newer, brighter, more blissful memories. And yet it seems that the events have only just caught up to Sigma, that their mind has only just sorted through the photo album that is their memories and rediscovered the tragedy, sorting through them one last time, reliving events, before burying them deep inside the depths of their mind as they move onto the newer, cheerful memories.
“I…“ Sigma started shakily, their hands lowering the glass from where it was so that they could stare into the spiralling haziness of the water, swirling murky silver that stared right back at them.
“I dreamt of you dying.” They could hear Dazai’s harsh inhale, feel the pinpricks at the back of their eyes starting back up again but they refused to cry again over a cruel lie their brain has decided to play on them tonight, “I dreamt of you in Meursault, of you saving me but this time you didn’t survive the elevators fall. I saw your body, blood and gore and dead.”
Sigma was pulled close, the sudden action making them squeak and almost drop the still filled glass. Dazai buried his face into the back of Sigma’s neck.
“You already know that I’m alive.” He murmured, before raising his head and tilting it slightly so that his cheek rested on Sigma’s shoulder “But I suppose showing you again can’t hurt.”
Sigma tilted their head slightly, brows knitting together and lips pursing. Before they could ponder what Dazai means too much they feel Dazai taking a hold of their hand and lifting it to meet left wrist, where he then placed Sigma’s fingers against- oh. Oh.
Sigma let out a small laugh at their realisation.
Dazai was showing Sigma his pulse point on his wrist, the utter dork. Dazai grinned at Sigma’s expression, hiding his own smile in the crook of Sigma’s neck as he started to gently rock on their bed. Sigma’s giggles increased as Dazai started blowing raspberries into the neck, desperately trying to squeeze out of Dazai’s death grip and also not spill any of the water they were still holding.
As they calmed down, Sigma could start to feel their eyelids drooping, yawns becoming more frequently stifled and movements more and more sluggish. Dazai quickly took notice of this new development.
“Someone’s sleepy again, seems like my work here is done.”
“But you haven’t even done anything.” Sigma mindless ended the reference.
Dazai chuckled, as he rested his cheek back against Sigma’s shoulder. “Nonsense, now you’re not scared to go back to sleep!”
Oh, Sigma hadn’t even thought about that but if they hadn’t been calmed down they probably wouldn’t have gone to sleep, probably stayed up all night lying in bed, clutching onto Dazai’s arm as they stared at the silvery gaze of the moon that peaked through the window to faintly brighten their room. Once again Dazai was completely right.
As they settled back into bed, sigma putting the now empty glass of water at their bedside, before feeling a long arm snake around their front and pull them closer until they were chest to back.
“Sleep well darling, I’ll make sure to fight off any night terrors that’ll come your way.”
“You are so very absurd Dazai, you cannot start fighting my nightmares.”
“Not with that attitude you can’t.”