Event - Untimely

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Untimely

➥ Reality Check

(cw: hypersomnia, coma, supernaturally induced metaphysical hunger, psychosomatic pain)

"We all dream," the representative from Copernicus explains, directing attention to a powerpoint slide projected onto the wall beside her. The seminar in one of the conference rooms is ADI's latest effort to combat Ava's influence and take the fight to their foe. If she's going to put them all to sleep, then so be it. Let their ranks be ready for battle there. "My boss, Zyrian Steel, is a big dreamer. Copernicus started as one. We-" She pauses as her eyes seem to catch on someone at the back of the room. "But that-that's another presentation! Suffice to say, Mr. Steel heard you were having some sleep troubles around the office and wanted to help.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Luna, and I'm here from Copernicus' Augmenting Reality group to talk to you about lucid dreaming. Now, I see some of us are here in our Halloween outfits." She smiles and poses in her 50's-style poodle skirt. "Some of you have very impressive make-up and prosthetics, I might add. I was told there might be some stiff competition for this mid-Halloween get-together. Glad to see they weren't having a little fun with me." Any non-human in the audience is given an appreciative nod. "I can see we have a few dreams brought to life here, but what about shaping the dreams we have while we're in them?"

"We're going to go through a few exercises today. The key tricks for inducing lucid dreaming include:

"One, assess your reality regularly. Even if you can't remember falling asleep, take a moment every few hours to test your reality. Dreams might look very familiar, but there will always be inconsistencies and distortions you can catch. This should help you to recognize when you're dreaming.

"Second, the MILD method or Mnemonic Induction of Lucid Dreams. This is a method where you'll set an alarm for 5 hours after you go to sleep. Once awake, you'll tell yourself, 'The next time I'm dreaming, I will remember that I'm dreaming.' You'll also try to imagine yourself in a lucid dream as you go back to sleep. Silly as it sounds, just having that intentionality can be highly effective.

"Third, tell yourself when you go to sleep that you are going to have a lucid dream, that you will be shaping your reality, even if it seems outside of your control. Convince yourself. Convince others.

"And fourth…" Luna pulls out some high-tech looking eyemasks. "You can try one of our patented Lucidio Eye Masks. These devices help to unlock your mind and provide it with a few extra cues that you're dreaming once you enter REM sleep. We'll be handing out a limited number of samples, courtesy Mr. Steel. That's for the end of our presentation. Now, let's go through the stages of sleep…"

Whether you can stay away for the rest of the presentation, everyone will be chivved awake with increasingly harsh prods if they've fallen asleep during the presentation. There are more seminars throughout the next few days, always similar with Luna offering her guidance on lucid dreaming. Maybe it's enough. Maybe it isn't.

The music doesn't stop. As with last October, the haunting tunes extend their grasp from the graveyards and out toward the rest of Gloucester, ringing through ADI's halls, along with the Flophouse. The music induces intense sleepiness, and you might find your coworkers slumping down while they walk or you might fall victim to the music, yourself.

You awake… somewhere. It might be a place that's familiar, or one that's utterly alien. What you know is that there is something in this place that calls to you, sings in your blood and burns to be away from. And yet, you're terrified. There is something here that wants to consume every part of you, suck the marrow from your bones and leave you a husk of what you once were. You need it. You want it. You are hungry for it. For the fear it both brings and demands. This place seems to be some sort of pocket dimension, a personal hell built just for you and the things that sink their teeth into your bones and claw at the back of your mind. This is a terrifying place.

And you're not alone.

If you've been paying attention to the seminars, perhaps you'll be able to recognize this as a dream, something that isn't real. Sensations that aren't real. A world that isn't real. But with that realization comes a choice. You could try to break free of your personal hell, rip it to shreds, make it less horrific. Or… or there is something that calls to you in this place, a thing that sounds the death of who you once were, perhaps. You could call back, reshape this reality to terrorize the others trapped here with you. They'll never know if you were aware or not, will they? They don't need to know you did this to them consciously.

Just this once, what if you gave in? If someone dies in the dream, it's not like they die in real life. Right?

➥ Knead Help

(cw: blood, unsanitary food, supernaturally-induced existential dread, supernaturally-induced suicidal thoughts, isolation, dissociation)

Deathbed Bread is off the market. Thanks to a timely tip, the Health Department has finally made a slightly less timely visit to Better Loaf than Never, and were forced to shut the storefront down when their inspectors were unable to gain entry to the kitchen. The lights are still on behind the boarded-up windows, though, the smell of sourdough still permeating the air as loaf after loaf is delivered through a slot from the kitchen through the day and night, bread piling up on the counter and floor behind the register. They come at regular intervals, still warm from the oven. ADI has taken over the little storefront now and set up a tiny field office there, the higher-ups having pulled enough strings for law enforcement to look the other way and not ask too many questions about the people coming and going as efforts to break into the kitchen intensify...and as ADI staff truck away loads of Deathbed Bread to incinerate back at headquarters.

Someone has a bright (or maybe desperate) idea: if they can't get in, maybe they can at least stop the bread from coming out. Boarding up the bread slot, by all accounts, works for perhaps an hour or two as those present can still hear more bread piling up on the other side. Then there's a soul-wrenching cry of anguish followed by a violent attack on the barrier from inside the kitchen that ends with an ADI agent injured by flying debris and a cascade of sourdough loaves stained with bloody handprints. It's enough, though. Whatever supernatural seal that made the kitchen blockade impenetrable has broken, and within the day ADI is able to break down the door.

A thick, unnatural fog is all that can be seen inside the doorway. Rather than the cool of an early morning, though, the damp air is hot and cloying; those who venture inside will soon find themselves drenched with a mix of sweat and humidity from the air. They will also soon find themselves alone, regardless of what companions they might have had with them when they entered. Did you have someone with you? You must have; it would be foolish to enter alone, and yet it rapidly becomes difficult to remember their face, their voice, the touch of their hand. Perhaps you imagined them. Perhaps you've always been alone.

Dark shapes in the fog resolve into tombstones as one nears--no, into huge, upright loaves of bread jutting up from where they've been sunk into the soft ground of this strange graveyard, dry and cracked and dead. There are names pressed into them, dates of death spanning the last few weeks…and the next few. Perhaps you'll spot your own name and today's date. And why shouldn't it be today? Everyone dies, and everyone dies alone. Any action other than laying down on the soft dough of your own grave and letting it swallow you up is only delaying the inevitable.

The spell of deathly quiet over this place isn't complete, though. Keep moving, keep trying, keep hanging on to thoughts of those you love and the clear sky beyond this little world, and you might find a friend who needs your help as much as you need theirs. One or both people encountering each other may feel as though they're in a dream, unable to see or hear the other–but with persistence, with feeling, it's possible to reforge the connection. Love and friendship may shine a light on what was invisible–but so will shared anger, joy, or disgust. Any strong, shared emotion beyond the fear and sadness that permeates this place renders would-be ghosts visible, solid, and real to one another, able to move forward or turn back to escape together–or to begin tearing up the tombstones in fierce denial of their portents.

This hellish graveyard is as far as most will go. Somewhere deeper in what was the kitchen, Bryn still labors and the bread still piles up. It will be up to those few lucky (or unfortunate) enough to stumble across him to put a final end to this.

➥ Never Sleep Again

(cw: child death, body horror, violence, potential injury or character death, nightmare dream logic)

Are you dreaming or are you awake? It becomes harder to tell as the music flows through halls and streets, rooms and parks. It’s dangerous out there, people falling asleep where they shouldn’t, or finding themselves face-to-face with what shouldn’t be when their eyes close unknowingly. Perhaps you planned it, your practice made perfect and your mind set to confrontation, maybe this time you sat down with the intention of stopping this. Or maybe it was simply an accident, but you’re here now. What else can you do but fight to survive?

The hellscape of your mind's torment might be familiar or maybe it’s a new flavor, but there’s something different this time. This time, there are seams; the dream around you is sewn together and you hold the scissors. Fight your way or will your way through, and you can pass between the swatches of your dreaming landscape. Maybe you find a friend or maybe you spot the retreating form of a little girl, turning a corner that isn’t there. Except you can see it now, the corridors of this place. You can follow her.

She leads you on a chase, her laugh a ricocheting titter of joy for the game. If you listen closely, however, there’s more to hear. The further you chase her, the more snatches of sound and sensation follow you as well. Grim melodies and snatches of song, searing heat, the taste of ash in your mouth, the sound of screaming that isn’t quite familiar. Your parents? Someone’s parents. Whispered voices. Snatches of words. ‘Amber.’ yelled, called, pleaded. Hide and seek was always fun.‘Ren’ a name that holds fondness, a feeling of a hundred tiny legs across skin- Stop! A command like a pick through your mind filled with anger and fear. Maybe it isn’t just your nightmares in here…

If you catch her, when you catch her, the game is over. Cornered and angry, Ava skitters up the wall, and across the ceiling to hang above you, neck at an impossible angle and clearly broken for it. “What’s wrong? Not having fun?”.

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Bryn and Ava will both be available for NPC interaction and threading. Players who want to talk to ask Luna anything should respond to the Questions section of the OOC post. The mods will provide her answers to specific questions. Characters who die in the dreams will not die in real life, but they will experience severe fatigue and pain, and may retain scarring in the waking world from whatever killed them in the nightmares. Characters who die in real life… well, they're dead. Please bear this in mind as the game does not have an easy resurrection mechanic.
  
  
• REALITY CHECK (16-25 October) - Everyone will be encouraged (but not technically required) to attend the lucid dreaming seminar. There will be a few of them over the course of three days. Characters can also pick up one of the Ludicio Eye Mask devices that will assist them in being able to enter a lucid state while dreaming. They don't always help, of course; they're mainly augmenting someone's abilities, provided they're following the guidance provided about how to enhance your lucid dreaming capabilities. Luna is clearly unaware that any non-humans are actually non-humans. She believes everyone is just really into Halloween around here.
  
  The nightmares this go around seem to be specifically focused on the Entities that your characters fear most and/or the ones they might be drawn to. You are welcome to make up a personalized hellscape for your character with anything you'd like in it. These are dreams! Go wild! Characters will fall randomly in and out of each other's dreams and personalized hellscapes. Those who have mastered lucid dreaming will be able to traverse dreams with more purpose, aiming to go to specific people's dreams or get themselves out of ones they don't want to be in. Lucid dream experts will also be able to shape the dreams that are meant for them. In their own nightmares, characters will feel a definitive pull toward one (or more over different nights) Entity and experience an intense fear of that Entity along with the desire to feed it, even if you want away from it.
  
  Feeding the Entities in the dreams and using the dreams to torment others will not necessarily lead to an Entity alignment… but it can do. Or it can set a character down a particularly destructive path in that vein. We would just ask that players remember that ADI is very anti-magic/Entities and anyone who is caught displaying powers/Entity alignment is liable to be mistrusted, watched, and potentially killed by the NPCs if they make themselves too much of an overt problem.
  
  
• KNEAD HELP (18-25 October) - Characters may find bread gravestones with their own names, the names of people they have lost, and people they fear losing, as well as names of locals who have been confirmed dead due to eating Deathbed Bread. Some gravestones will bear the names and correct dates for people who are actually dead; others will refer to people who are still alive. Gravestone engravings may include characters back home in player characters' worlds, as well as player characters that have been dropped from the game. OOCly, the appearance of a person's bread gravestone is not a reliable indication of whether that person is actually dead or going to die. ICly, characters may or may not realize this fact at players' discretion.
  
  
• NEVER SLEEP AGAIN (20-25 October) - As characters begin to gain control over their dreaming, they will find they can begin to track down Ava the Lullaby Girl. Confrontation can occur within the dream or, with enough willpower, a character can pull a piece of Ava into the waking world to try and kill her. Upon bringing her to the waking world, characters will find themselves faced with a teenaged version of the girl they were following, Ava’s actual body. She's not a little girl at all, but someone who's just entering into adulthood. Fights are likely to result in injuries ranging from mild to severe and can include death, please keep the setting’s death rules in mind for this. Threads with Ava can start in the dreams or already mid-fight in the waking world! It will take a concerted group effort to actually kill Ava. No one person will be able to do it themselves. Only a piece of her is pulled through or fought in the dreams that any person encounters.
  
  The morning after the last pieces are killed, Ava’s mangled corpse will be found on ADI’s grounds shortly after dawn, clutching a bloody, stuffed lamb in one hand.

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Comments

[setthetone]

[Carter shakes his head, slowly at first, then more emphatically, desperately.]

No! No, there's still-- I can try another round of epi-- I can--

[But he knows.

Even with the lack of sense in it, even with the dream distortion, he can just see the carnage on the table and know what it means. There's no coming back from this.

His voice trails off and all he can do is take Luka's hand with a numb horror. The faceless nurses have gone quiet and there's a heaviness in their silence, an unspoken reproach.]

... I'm sorry.

[He's so sorry.]

[cuttypie]

[He knows.

At least he's stopped, at least he's listening to reason. He's in so much pain right now that it actually has turned into a strange sort of numbness, or maybe that's just his body shutting down. Honestly he's not even sure how he can still talk at this point, but somehow he can.

Small favors.]

D-don't be. You d-didn't give up.

[In all of this, there's his courage, his tenacity, trying so hard in an impossible situation. Luka squeezes his hand.]

Just like in A-Africa. Y-you didn't give up.

[He can feel the numbness spreading now, a terrible weakness threatening to drag him away into the darkness.

Somehow, he tries to smile.]

T...thank you. [For then. For now. It was an impossible situation anyway, he wasn't likely to survive no matter what happened.]

[setthetone]

[He's thanking him.

He's thanking him and Carter's throat closes up, the shame and guilt suffocating him. It's his fault, all of this. If only he had made the right diagnosis, if only he had been faster, if only he had stopped the bleeding...

Now there's nothing left for him to do but stay here and be there for Luka. All of him wants to run, to get out of this room, away from this awful horror.

But he swallows, fights down the urge to scream and squeezes his hand gently.

He messed this up but he's going to see it through even if it's killing him.]

I wish I could have done more. Would you... would you like me to give you something?

[cuttypie]

[He can see it in Carter's face, the anguish, the despair, and he wishes he could take it away, that he could stop that, that he could save him from this.

But no. He can't do anything, all he can do is leave him and that's...that's the worst part of all, isn't it?

He's losing Carter.]

No...I d-don't think I n-need it.

[The numbness is all-encompassing now, which is some small measure of relief. It's like he simply can't process pain anymore, as if all the pain he previously experienced had fried his system's ability to feel it.

He squeezes Carter's hand again, weakly.]

...I-I don't w-want to leave you. I made...so many mistakes.

[Being an Avatar, succumbing to it. Frightening you.

Not telling you how he feels.]

I wish I had...a chance to do it all...over again. I'd do it...right this time. Not mess things up. I messed...messed things up so bad with Abby. With you.

[setthetone]

I...

[For a moment everything is confusing. He's a med student and he doesn't know what he is doing. He's in Gloucester and he's fighting off the apocalypse. Luka is an unknown patient and he feels bad for not knowing his name and Luka is an avatar and Luka is a friend and Luka is so much more.]

I wanted to fix it. Fix you. All of it.

[He feels so small. He feels so helpless. Everything is out of control, everything is spiraling.]

I... wish I could have been there? And stopped it.

[Stop what? The trauma or whatever had caused it? Luka turning into an Avatar? Everything that happened in Africa?

Maybe there's no difference. Maybe it's one and the same.]

I wish I... would have been better at helping you.

[cuttypie]

Maybe there are s-some things...we cannot fix.

[It's an awful thought, but maybe that's the final lesson here. That no matter what they do, there are things that break and you can't put them back together again.

But that can't be it, can it? He's lived in despair for so long, believed that for so long, but Carter came to Africa, Carter saved him, Carter is in Gloucester and is trying to save him from Eldrich horrors and maybe, in another life, maybe the broken pieces could make something new. Different from before, but no less beautiful.]

S-sometimes you do your b-best and it's n-not enough. B-but you didn't give up. And y-you're here. You're...always here for me.

[He tries to smile. Do you see how much that means to him? That even in his worst days you're always here?

He draws his hand closer, pressing his lips to the back of it, already he's too weak to move but he tries to anyway.]

[setthetone]

[Maybe there are some things that cannot be fixed.

He couldn't fix his parents after his brother's death.

He couldn't fix Dennis and didn't even realize he needed him.

He couldn't fix himself, couldn't fix his own life, the chaos and destruction surrounding him until he ran away to Africa.

He couldn't fix Luka. Luka who presses his lips to his hand and his heart crumbles, tears blurring the colors around him, the red of blood, the green of the tiles, the little white that remains of the hospital sheets.]

I... don't want to lose you.

[cuttypie]

I don't want to lose you...too.

[He keeps his hand against his face, as if it could stop him from slipping into death.

He feels cold. How did it get so cold? Carter's hand is the only scrap of warmth he can feel.]

I...I wish I could stay.

For you.

[setthetone]

[Carter knows this part.

Carter dreads this part.

He leans in, brushing Luka's hair back, touching his face, dapping the sweaty forehead. It's strange. He was so lost just moments ago, but this seems so familiar. Now he's calm, now he knows what to do.

Maybe because it's already heartbreaking. Maybe the dream doesn't have to do anything to make it worse.

He leans in, pressing his lips to Luka's head, feeling the tears squeezing past the struggle and all of his defences.]

It's okay. You're okay, you... you're okay now. You can let go.

cw: ptsd, children and family death, war imagery

[cuttypie]

[He knows this part. He's seen this part.

It was the sounds of stillness, if stillness could have a sound. An absence that's so loud it screams. Danijela's labored breathing, growing weaker and weaker. His little girl, no longer moving, no longer living.

A thousand codes, a thousand traumas, a flatline, a frustrated noise from a doctor, apologies, keening, crying, despair, a grief all-encompassing.

He knows this part so very, very well.

And Carter would have to deal with it now.]

M'sorry.

[He's so sorry he has to go. Carter kisses him on the head and he tries to squeeze his hand one more time but there's no more life left in it, in him, and it goes limp.

He's so sorry, he doesn't want to leave, but Carter said it's okay.

He's okay now.

So he lets go.

He stills.

The stillness has a sound.]

cw: death, throwing up

[setthetone]

[The stillness has a sound.

It fills out his head, his heart, his soul and he just holds on to Luka's hand for a little longer. It's okay, he told him, you can let go, but Carter can't. He can't let go, he can't let this be real, he can't let this be a thing that just happened.

But it did happen and the stillness has a sound.

The ER has a sound, too. And it's deafening.

Suddenly everything rushes back into view. Monitors are blaring, people are yelling, one nurse is screaming down the corridor for a doctor. The thundering of footsteps, someone grabs him, pulls him back.

The nightmare isn't over.

Carter!? What the hell do you think you're doing?!

It's Benton, grabbing his shoulders, practically shaking him and staring at him with such anger and contempt that it pulls him out of the numb haze. All he can do is stammer, still dazed by the pain and the loss.

I tried to-- you weren't there, nobody was there, I had to--

You don't have to do a damn thing without me! Have you looked at him? Look at him! Look at this! Aw man, what a mess.

Benton turns him around and it's like he can see it for the first time, Luka, on the gurney. The cuts are everywhere, they make no sense, it looks like he slaughtered him himself, as if there never had been any trauma in the first place. Behind him Benton is yelling about everything he did wrong and it's his fault and he killed him...

He wakes with a yell, drenched in sweat, kicking off the blanket in a bout of panic. It takes him a moment to fully come to, eyes wide, breathing hitched and panicked as he looks around. Slowly he recognizes the room, remembers.

A dream.

Just a dream.

He stumbles off the bed, barely managing to get over to the bathroom before he throws up. There's no blood of him but he still rips his clothes off, stumbling into the shower and scrubbing at every part of his body.

There's nothing there but it still doesn't feel like it's coming off.]

cw: death, ptsd

[cuttypie]

[There was nothing.

It was so all-encompassing later on Luka wonders if he hadn't really died, somehow.

But he's most certainly alive when he gasps, shooting up in his bed, fingers tangled in the covers. His chest and entire abdomen aches, it aches so bad that he almost wonders if he hadn't gotten injured somehow. He checks under his shirt just to be sure and...strangely enough, there are fresh scars there.

...what?

He pulls off his shirt just to be sure, and checks. Long lines of scars, as if he'd been actually cut with a scalpel line across his chest. A flash of Carter cutting through him and he makes an upset sound, pressing his palms to his eyes, trying to get it out.

Ava. It was Ava.

Damn these other Avatars, it really never ended, did it? No matter how much he fed and stole different kinds of fear, there was always someone causing a disaster elsewhere.

But right now he could worry about that later. He needed to find Carter.

He can only imagine how he's doing after that.

It's still early, and he knows he can't get into the apartments yet, but he gets up anyway. Immediately a wave of fatigue and dizziness hit him, only making the pain that much worse. He really shouldn't be up if he feels this bad, but he fights past it anyway, grabbing a new shirt and throwing on a pair of jeans, stumbling out of Bonnie's and into the morning air.

When he can finally get into the apartments, he knocks on the door.]

[setthetone]

[Carter doesn't know how much time he ultimately spends in the shower but eventually his skin feels raw from all the scrubbing and he has to stop.

He puts on the most casual clothes he can find, a plain grey t-shirt and sweatpants - he can't bear to put on work clothes or a white coat, can't even bring himself to look at it, can't be in anything that makes him him. He calls in sick at the department, too, that he can't cover his shift. Then he makes himself some coffee (vowing to himself like a child that he is never going to sleep again) and sits on the couch, nursing it slowly.

When Luka knocks it's only being on autopilot that makes him open the door. That, and not wanting to wake Sheppard. His hair is still damp, sticking up in places and he looks awful. Pale, haunted, eyes still reddened from crying and while he spent all this time in the shower he didn't take the time to shave.

And then it's Luka and the autopilot stops.

Everything stops.

Carter just stares at him for a moment, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. He wants to reach out but he can't bring himself to touch him, hands curling into fists that are pressed to his sides as if he was afraid a scalpel might magically appear if he brings them up too close to Luka's body.]

[cuttypie]

[It’s probably only because the Carter from his dreams was younger, and looked a little different, that he didn’t have an immediate reaction to seeing Carter in person. There’s still a little bit of it, though, in the way his posture immediately tenses, something in his eyes looks a little vacant, as if a memory is consuming him and he can’t get it to stop.

His shirt is rumpled but there is evidence of a fresh scar underneath, creeping up towards his collarbone, visible near his neckline.]

It was Ava.

[He’s almost breathless, and he holds the door for support, the fatigue and pain sapping his energy. But all that is secondary to what he has to say.]

That—what happened, that was Ava. Not you.

[Carter looks terrible, he can only imagine what he must have just went through after he woke up.

He reaches a hand out, his own trembling. He fights past the instinct that makes him want to run from Carter, he knows that if he wants any chance of getting past any fear he has to fight it now. He can feel Carter’s fear, but he pushes any hunger he has down and locks it away in a box.

Strangely enough, Luka, despite looking terrible, looks more like himself than he has since this whole thing started, as if the clarity he’s gotten has given him more control.

Or maybe he understands know what Carter felt like when he scared him.

Will you take his hand?]

[setthetone]

[It was Ava.

Luka says what he already suspects, what he keeps telling himself over and over again. A nightmare. Manufactured to terrorize him and feed one of those cursed Entities. Tailored expertly, a combination of some of his worst fears into one terrible situation he could not escape. It wasn't him. That's what he knows rationally.

It does nothing to help him feel better.

Carter stares at the outline of the scar on Luka's chest, feeling a new wave of nausea and guilt and he sways, pressing his forearm against the doorframe for support when the images return. Luka on that table, bleeding out. His own frantic attempts to fix something he can't even quite see. Monitors beeping, lights blaring, nurses yelling in his ear and for a moment his eyes lose focus when the flashbacks get too much.

He reaches out clumsily, grabbing Luka's hand with an upset sound.]

I thought-- it felt like I had to. Keep going, I...

[Like it was normal to operate on a conscious person. God, he didn't even give him any painkillers...]

I-- I'm sorry, I--

[cuttypie]

[He grips his hand tightly, reaching out to put another hand on his shoulder.]

I know. I know, it wasn’t you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t ever do that, John. I know you.

[Please, you have to see.

He knows you. And you’re not…that.

He knows he should be more frightened of having Carter this close, this soon but this is more important than that.

He cares for him too much for that.

His hand goes up to the side of his face.]

It wasn’t real. And I’m okay.

[setthetone]

[It wasn't real.

And Luka is okay.

Carter presses his lips together and just nods because he's afraid if he says another word he'll just start crying. He might just anyway. He clings to Luka's hand, his shoulders so tense he looks like he's about to snap, desperately fighting for some control, some composure.]

It felt real.

[And if it felt real to him, it must have felt real for Luka. Getting cut open. Dying.

He reaches up in turn, pressing his hand to the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse.]

I thought I... I lost you.

[I thought I killed you.]

[cuttypie]

[Carter thought he killed him.

He can see it on his face, the story of everything that he's feeling, what he experienced, and it's killing him that he can't take it away from him.

That he can't protect him from this, or this place.]

I know. That's what these things do. That's what they want, your...our fear. That's what this is.

But I'm here.

[He draws his thumb against the side of his face, against his chin, trying to comfort him, trying to prove to him that he's here, that by doing so he could chase everything the dream did away.

But he's part of those things that cause fear. And he hates it. Hates it, hates being part of it.

He pulls him in close instead, a hug but more than that, an embrace, really. He presses his forehead to his.]

I'm sorry.