Chapter 6
Druig had never felt fear, never much at least - none of them were made to feel fear, it wouldn't make sense. They had been sent to get rid of some vicious predators, fear would only get in the way of that mission. They were as valiant as they were strong, for centuries and then millennia.
They had nothing to be afraid of, anyways, they had the abilities, they had the minds, they had the upper hand in every battle. What would they had to fear when they had such fearsome abilities as eye lasers or the transmutation of matter? They were a dimension away from what the deviants could do, so there was nothing to fear.
And Druig feared only his own mind, and his own pain at what he was seeing and what he knew that he could stop, but wasn't allowed to. That he would go mad from grief and regret and impotence, and go against someone that he cared about, or commit acts too unforgivable and be erased from existence by Arishem.
But that was it. Besides his own treacherous mind, Druig had no fear.
That is, until that fateful day on the beach, when he'd come so close to dying everyone thought already gone. When he was thrown from the sky, hit with lasers in the chest and then buried for miles underground in the sand. He really thought he wasn't going to make it, he thought the sand was going fill his his lungs and with the pain from the lasers, and the pain of hitting the floor at such speed...
It wasn't just how much it hurt, which it really did. It wasn't just the injuries Ikaris had made, his neck that was going to bruise, his back from hitting the floor, his chest and stomach from those lasers - that hurt like hell, but in that moment, as he was being buried in the darkness by someone he once trusted, all of his carefully placed mind barriers came undone, and suddenly the pain and the screams, horrors from times past were suddenly in his ear, and it was unbearable.
He wanted to do something,something more than just die a horrible death, buried and bleeding while his friends, his family were being taken out by that monster they had once called a brother. No, he had to do something, even if he was too broken and damaged to put the celestial to sleep he could still help, couldn't he?
He closed his eyes, tried to imagine himself elsewhere. Thought of her and her smile and beautiful face. Thought of all of them, and of the humanity he'd been caring for centuries and centuries. He had to do something, and somehow, in some way he managed to get out. But that coffin made of sand stayed with him. Haunted him. Followed him around.
Druig now left doors open so there would be more space, favoured stairs over lifts no matter the amount of floors - he simply did not want to be in closed small spaces anymore.
Which someone on the ship found amusing, and to have a little laugh, they locked him in a closet. And something was different this time. Because other times he'd participated in pranks, sometimes seen them coming, hell sometimes even laughed himself, enjoyed them.
But now...
Now he was in a beach again, and Ikaris was looking at him when murder in his eyes, telling him he'd wanted to kill him for so long, burying too deep for him to get out. The walls were coming at him, they were closing in and they were going to crush him to pieces while he still breathed. He tried to scream, to open the locks, but he could nothing.
He was trapped, and the walls were on him, he was surely going to die this time, the walls were going to kill him, the walls were going to eat him while Ikaris laughed outside and he couldn't do anything, anything. He screamed and threw a wave of anguish to the whole ship, almost without meaning to, just exploding in pain and fear and dread.
In less than a second someone tore the door of its hinges, and he was out of that closet, out of that encroaching darkness and back into a big space. A decently big one with windows and open doors and objects that didn't want to eat him.
Dark eyes were looking at him with worry, with sadness.
It's okay, baby. You're okay.
Druig was crying, because he didn't want to be this... breakable, this easily broken. He'd never been fragile, he was the protector and helper of the fragile things. And now... now a simple closed closet could defeat him. It was pitiful.
Makkari took him in, held him, wiped his tears.
I'm going to have some words with whoever did this. Some jokes are not funny.
Druig tried to compose himself, but the horror of the closet still echoed in his eyes.
I feel so ashamed, he signed, like a good-for-nothing frightened little kitten. This is not the fearless and fearsome Eternal you signed up for.
Druig you were nearly murdered by someone you had trusted for thousands of years. Flung in the hair, hit with killer lasers, buried in the sand, and it was someone you weren't prepared for. A bit of fear is perfectly normal and understandable and it just means that you fear everything deeply, that you're more sensitive than some other Eternals. And it's something that I love about you.
There was a little kiss on the forehead. Druig was still shaking a bit, his eyes a bit teary, but trying to hold himself together. More or less. Makkari started signing again.
And I signed up for all you, with the good and the bad. And I don't regret my choice.
Even if something as stupid as closed lift or a closet makes me afraid?
Even then.
Aaaaand maybe this will give me an excuse to change the whole ship into a more "open space friendly" place. I always wanted to do that.
He smiled while she signed about furniture and new rooms and open spaces.
The image of Ikaris was still there, haunting him, ready to throw him into a another closed death trap. But as long as there was someone to get him out... He could still make it.
He was a survivor, after all. They both were.