I Was Disappearing In Plain Sight
Another fucking great day in Bassarus
Ashton and the rest of the Hells had just gotten jumped in the middle of the fucking street because some asshole couldn’t handle the fact that Fearne had beat them in some card game or another (to be fair, they’re pretty sure she had Mister help her cheat and probably steal the douche’s belt buckle too, which was fucking hilarious).
But as fun as it was beating the shit out of those fuckers, they could feel themselves hitting their limit. Lights were getting a bit too bright and sand a bit too coarse and sound a bit too irritating. They were just ready to get wasted and sleep.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, a mass of ruddy brown hair passed by him. Upon turning to look…it was her. It was fucking Sally. It fucking had to be. He couldn’t see the figure’s face, but he could picture the dark makeup that constantly shadowed her eyes and cheeks and-
Ashton could feel his vision start to go fuzzy at the edges, almost as if someone was pulling cloth over his eyes.
If Sally was here, then what if the rest of the Nobodies-
No! He couldn’t think about that!
In a last ditch attempt to stay present, they tried to hone in on the conversation Imogen and Laudna were having. This only resulted in the ringing in their ears growing louder and louder and louder, until a drawling voice cut through the high-pitched fog of his mind.
“I can hear ya listenin’ in, Ashton. Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?”
And suddenly Milo’s blurred face was peering over them, and the could smell the tang of red hot metal and burning blood and rock-like skin. Meanwhile the ever-present ache in Ashton’s skull has flared into a stabbing pain that made him want to scream. But his mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
He could hear Milo’s muffled voice begin to rise with panic as Ashton’s breath became shallow.
He was dying.
He was dying.
“He’s dead, just leave him!”
And they were broken, bloody, and barely clinging to life on the ground of Hexum’s estate.
Gods, why did everything hurt so much?
They could feel the ground beneath them dampening with oily blood. All they could taste was iron and dirt.
How had they gotten there?
And suddenly they were on the balcony, the split second before that fucking spell hit. Before he would topple over the edge only to be fuckingabandoned by the only ones who gave even a fraction of a fuck.
And then…
They were fallingfallingfallingfallingfalling
And Ashton braced for an impact that never came.
Instead he smells lavender and mint and some other things that he didn’t know the name of. The heavy scent is so overwhelming that it should have been unpleasant, but Ashton certainly preferred the powdery herbalness over the scent of iron and dirt and burns and blood and-
“You’re spiraling, Ashton.”
A lilting drawl penetrated the foggy thoughts and memories.
Imogen.
Ashton wasn’t sure if he responded at all.
“Orym told me to ask if he could touch you?”
But Ashton couldn’t find their body. They were so lost in their head that even the constant pain in their body couldn’t ground them. The ache was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
But he must’ve nodded his head or gave some mental confirmation to Imogen, because then there was a small hand pressing gently, but firmly into his lower back.
(Away from the worst of the scars, they would later note,)
And then scratchy stems and fuzzy leaves and soft petals were gently pressed into his hands (which at this point, he noticed, were trembling)
As Ashton began to feel his mind re-tether to his body, the aching in his head came full force, and he let out a grunt.
(Or was it a whine? A hiss? A scream?) His face felt stiff from tears. (When did he start crying?)
And then the cloth that memories placed over their eyes was removed. Although their vision was still limited to blurred shapes, they could vaguely make out the shape of Orym’s halfling form sitting (When did they sit down?) beside them.
“You back?” Orym asked so softly that it could barely even be considered a whisper
Ashton genuinely tried to respond, but due to their body’s lack of cooperation, it came out as more of a warbled hum.
“Take your time, Ash. The others are just around the corner. We didn’t want to crowd you, but I promise that no one was going to leave you.”
Ashton’s good eye began to focus in on Orym’s green ones.
“F’ckn’ s’cks,” they half mumbled/half slurred
“That was a flashback, wasn’t it?”
They gave a grunt of half-hearted agreement.
“I have them too, sometimes.”
Ashton glanced down at the halfling, who held his gaze for a few seconds before looking off.
“They’re less frequent now, but right after the attack on Zephrah…” Orym trailed off before resuming, “I was a mess. Nightmares and flashbacks all the time. I couldn’t walk into our house without seeing him.”
Ashton didn’t need to ask which him Orym was referring to.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, even if I don’t know much about the baggage you’re carrying around, I’ll do my best to listen. If you’re willing to share, I mean.”
Ashton inhaled deeply, the breath rattling his bones.
“I thought I saw someone,” they said in a hoarse whisper.
“One of the Nobodies?” Orym clarified.
Ashton gave a subtle nod.
“Please tell me to fuck off if I’m being too intrusive, but are you okay?” Orym asked
They groaned and put their face in their hands.
“I just wish I didn’t give a fuck. I know they made the right decision, getting out, but why am I still hung up over them? It was fucking years ago!” Ashton let out the last sentence with a sharp burst of anger that quickly dissipated into exhaustion.
Orym let out a soft sigh.
“I’m not gonna argue with you right now, ‘cause anyone could tell that that’s the last thing you need right now. But I do want you to know it’s okay to not be okay with what they did. You can be angry at them even if think that what they did was best.”
Orym stood up and offered his hand for Ashton to take.
“But Ash? Also know that no matter what happens, we don’t leave people behind. Including you.”
Ashton stared at Orym’s hand, which was scattered with scars and freckles and darkened by the dust of Bassarus’s streets. They thought for a moment and hesitated.
And then they gently grasped the hand in their own.