Work Text:
Prologue
Aeron’s eyes fluttered open and the hero felt the tears steadily streaming already. They sat up despite it and hastily scrubbed them away.
Maybe today can be different, they couldn’t help but think. Maybe today I can save her… But Aeron had no time for thoughts like that. They knew today would be just like the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that, and…
How many days has it actually been? Hell if they knew. There was no way to keep track, no way of telling how many times they had to see the horrors played out in front of them, over and over and over again.
Aeron just lay back down, trying to go to sleep again. It wouldn’t matter if they were late for work anyways.
After at least an hour of pure lethargy, they slipped into what they hoped were clean clothes and put on the nearest pair of shoes. And damn, where had they left their ring?
There seemed to be motivation enough to spend a few minutes searching for their ring, which they found under their pillow, of all places, but not to tame their fiery hair or try and wash the exhaustion from their face.
Even the thought of having to drive all the way uptown just to see a recurring living nightmare take place made Aeron sick down in the farthest reaches of their being. They hopped in the car and started the drive anyways. At least they missed the worst of the morning traffic, arriving at work only an hour and a half late.
They opened the doors of the looming building they had the “pleasure” of working at. As familiar as everything was, their stomach started to churn with a sense of unease. Of course it did. They knew what was coming. Did they have the ability to stop it? Only God knows.
Turning into the far left wing, they saw, without an ounce of surprise, an intern trip, but not fall, and throw the tray of coffee he was holding into the air. He caught it again (on accident, Aeron assumed) with a look of shock before carrying on his path.
Walking farther down the hall, they heard a woman tell her coworker a joke, one that Aeron had heard too many times before. They stopped to listen anyways. The woman said,
“Jesus said something like, ‘Come forth and receive eternal life,’ right?” Her coworker replied,
“Yes, why?” Aeron could practically hear the shit-eating grin spreading across the woman’s face.
“Well,” she began, “I heard John came fifth, and he got a toaster!” There was silence as her coworker processed what had just been said, until he, and at least three other people in the vicinity who had also been listening in, burst into laughter.
At least that made Aeron smile, just a little bit, as they continued down the hall. The smile melted into a set frown the moment they saw Blaise.
Everyone around the building seemed to know that Blaise and Aeron didn’t exactly get along. How could they, when Blaise was so happy, no matter the circumstances, and Aeron was nearly as jaded as they could get? Aeron couldn’t stand being in the same room as Blaise for more than 5 minutes. Every time, they swore they felt their teeth start to rot with the sweetness of everything Blaise did.
But now, as Aeron’s mind caught up to their eyes, the amount of tears spilling from them could easily be described as unholy. Everyone turned to look as Aeron’s knees gave out and they sat, still crying, on the floor.
The panic took a few moments to set in, but soon enough, everyone was breaking down, in one way or another. Some others joined Aeron on the floor, adding sobs to the chaos. More, still, were calling family or friends, making sure that everyone was okay. A few poor souls simply stood and mumbled frantically to themselves.
For Aeron, it was pure sensory overload. They had to get out, somehow. Their right hand moved shakily across their lap to meet the left, grasping tightly to the index finger. They twisted the ring one, two, three times around before the small, familiar prick of the cold needle sunk them into the release of the sweet, beautiful darkness of death.