October 15th
It was dark.
And everything was cold.
Why did he always end up here? Surrounded by darkness and the cold.
He hated the cold. Winter was his least favorite time of year. He didn’t even like playing in the snow with other kids growing up. Then he got bit bite that spider and he hated the cold even more.
The dark and the cold consumed his nightmares growing up- nightmares - nightmares based on barely remembered reality.
His memories of dying on Titan even felt cold and dark. Despite also remembering how it felt like burning too. It had felt like flames ticking away at his skin and yet his dreams just felt cold.
Peter peaked his eyes open, and there was a sliver of light on the other side of the room. Other than that, he was surrounded by darkness. His limbs felt heavy. He couldn’t move- but he needed to get to that sliver of light. His brain practically screamed at him to follow the light. Get to the light. The light will save you. You’re dying. Get to the light.
Wait.
He wasn’t dying. Was he dying?
He was dying, wasn’t he?
He tried moving again with more urgency, and he suddenly registered that he could hear his heart pounding. Once he did, the sound seemed to thunder in his ears. It was practically deafening. But it didn’t sound like a dying heart. Unless he was imagining it, maybe this whole thing was in his head. Maybe he was already dead.
Did he have a “coming back into the light moment” when he came back on Titan? He didn’t think so. He was gone, and then he wasn’t. This wasn’t like that. This was different.
He felt too heavy and numb and confused all at the same time and he was cold.
It was terrifying.
A loud rustling broke through the sound of his own heart and it echoed across the room. With a groan - that also seemed to echo loudly across the room- he rolled over onto his back. It was slow, and sloppy and he felt… was this how it felt to be drunk? And was it possible for his head to spin when he couldn’t even see anything?
The effort of rolling over made him forget why he wanted to do it in the first place.
What was he doing?
Where was he?
Everything was just so foggy.
He couldn’t think straight.
Then there was the rustling again, and he suddenly remembered.
He wanted to find the source.
He needed to.
He let his head flop to the side, towards the sliver of light and squinted at it.
“I don’t know what you’re doing in there Thomas but it’s not going to get you anywhere. Just relax. The boss will be here soon.” A man’s voice drawled in the direction of the light. He wanted to rejoice in the fact that it was a normal sounding voice- if not incredibly bored and irritated. Definitely meant he was alive, right?
But who the hell is Thomas!? Was Thomas the one making all the noise. Was he not alone? Was there someone else there that needed his help?
“T’mas?” He slurred, trying and failing to pull himself up and there was another rustle followed by a loud thump when he tried lifting his legs, only for them to come crashing back into the ground. “T’mas where’re we?”
“Who the fuck are you talking to? I said relax. You shouldn’t even be awake yet. God, just shut up.”
He shouldn’t be awake? Sleeping did sound really nice. But something was telling him that wasn’t right. His senses were screaming at him that going back to sleep could be dangerous. But it was just… so compelling.