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Cobb had dreams. Bad ones. Awful ones. Ones that left them curled under the blankets, right up against Din, biting their lip until it bled.
They'd wake up to silence- to oppressive darkness and nothing there for comfort. They loved the Deep. They did. But on the bad nights, the ones where it was truly awful- where it didn't say a thing- they didn't. They didn't love it on the bad nights. There was no comfort, there was no give and take. There was just the unbearable weight of it all.
(They loved it. They loved it in a way they had never felt before. In a way they hoped they could give their new family some day.)
Those were the nights where they felt like a child again shaking at their grandparents pond (a tiny thing. It was pathetic to have been afraid. They should've tried harder to not be scared. They should have-) Those nights made them remember why they'd been scared of the pond.
(Long hair being braided by their Ma, everyone already out, everyone having fun.)
(Water wanting to get in, in, in. Wanting to crush them. Wanting them to go deeper and deeper until there was no way out. Forcing them around until they couldn't tell which way was up. Whispers telling them to rest. To stay. Telling them that they'd always have another family, no matter what happened to the lesser one.)
(People screaming the wrong name. People asking about the Marshal's daughter. People wondering if they had survived.)
(They wished they hadn't.)
Cobb hadn't know it then- wouldn't for a good long while- would say they'd imagined the rough voice that held them there. They'd say they were fine, and it was just a tough recovery.
That was the first time they thought they'd been Changed. Not fully, of course, but something in them had been remolded. They were clay. They were reworked until the Choke had someone to love.
How could a creation not love their creator?
They remembered sitting in the clinic bed after it happened, waiting for their miracle-worker of a Ma to come in and say everything would be alright. That they were alright. That they were alive.
It had been so long ago.
They'd been Changed since then, and it was so hard to remember.
They liked to think she had brown hair, like theirs had been, the same color as the riverbed that'd run through their tiny town.
Maybe she was starting to gray, like theirs was.
In their memory, she never had a face.
In their memory, she'd been stressed, Cobb knew that. They'd had a brother, once, who ran one day. Never came back. They wondered if he was still out there. She never stopped looking.
They didn't even know his name.
Cobb thought their mother must hate them. For everything they'd done. For becoming what they were. They didn't know if they cared.
Their fingers dug into Din's back, he made a noise, and they tried to remember how to feel guilt.
~~~
"When did you get Changed?"
"After my parents died."
"Well, baby, that ain't too specific. I'm not pushin', am I?"
"No. It was when I was still a child."
"That fuckin' sucks."
"Not really. It's just my life. The pack took me in. I think they were trying to start the Everchase."
"Well that didn't happen, now did it?"
"No. No it didn't. What about you?"
~~~
The Chase was hard, bloody work. Cobb didn't mind it much. It wasn't for them, never was, but they thought maybe they could learn to love it too.
When he came home, late at night, after Grogu had been asleep for a few hours already, they had a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton pads ready.
Din always looked better after a Hunt. Kind of gross, sweat slick hair mixed with whatever poor soul's blood that was, but always more flushed. Looked less tired. Full.
So of course Cobb helped when he came back. After he showered and needed to clean and stitch up all the ugly parts of himself he hid. They loved him more for it.
The alcohol would dry out their fingers, leaving them cold. He'd wince when the soaked cotton would push away dirt and dried blood. He'd go distant for a while, far away, and he wouldn't talk. Not for a while. Cobb would smooth the furrow in his brow after they were finished, whisper small reassurances, try to bring him back.
Din would hold their hand, push up the sleeve, and give them a kiss on the wrist. Then they'd go out to the alley they'd first met at. The orange glow reminded Cobb of a false sun.
They'd pull a lighter out of their pocket and hand it to Din (after lighting a cigarette), and watch him drop torn up clothes onto the sandy pavement with a wet thud.
And with a click of the lighter the pile would go up in flames.
They'd stand there together until the fire died out. Until there was no proof of a Hunt apart from a missing persons case and a non-starved Din.
Cobb would hold his hand until they were in bed. Until they had to take off their coat and replace it with a sweater. Until they had to brush sand out of their hair before punching a pillow and settling down next to their partner.
They didn't dream on those nights.
~~~
"What about me?"
"When were you… y'know."
"Y'sure you're ready for that? It ain't a happy story."
"Neither was mine."
"No, I s'pose it wasn't."
"So?"
"I wish it hadn't gone sour the way it did. Never thought grief looked good on me."
"It doesn't."
~~~
Their dreams were never nightmares. Never awful, horrible things.
They were so perfect. The life Cobb could've had. The life they were supposed to have.
It made them so much worse.
It made Cobb worse. The bad nights. The nights where they wished they were back in those caves. Looking for their town. Hoping they were still alive. Cramming themselves through sandstone walls until they got too reckless. Until they were stuck. Until they heard a rumble and sand covered them and they couldn't move. Couldn't open their eyes. They'd lost track of time, then. It had to have been days, weeks, maybe.
They were there until they couldn't tell where the cavern started and they ended. Every bone in their body felt like it'd been shattered.
Something inside them must have broken, when they realized they'd never leave. When they stopped thinking about how to get out, and instead thought about how warm it was. How they'd been working so hard since they were young. How maybe they deserved this. Deserved the rest.
So they did. Rest. Floated between being awake and asleep. They couldn't breathe. Their chest burned. It didn't hurt. They belonged there.
~~~
"How do you- how do you do it."
"You're gonna have to be a bit more specific on that one, honey."
"Feeding."
"Oh. Guess I just… do."
"No, how do you- urgh."
"'S okay. Breathe."
"Well, I mean. How do you just let it happen? Make people disappear. That's what you do, right?"
"I s'pose that's what I do."
"And?"
"I dunno. It's them or me."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"I'm glad you didn't choose them."
"That's a mighty big statement."
"Not when it's about you. Never when it's about you."
~~~
"Can you choke me? Later, I mean."
Din looked up like they'd asked him to pull out his own teeth.
"Can I do what?"
~~~
The first time Cobb sacrificed someone, they ended up locking themselves in a room for a week on end. They didn't go into work, they didn't eat, they barely moved.
After they'd heard the same voice that they had in the pond, after it'd told them that it wanted to help. After it told them all they had to do was sleep, rest, consume that which consumes you . After they were comfortable under the weight of the Earth, being cradled by it. After they swore they could hear the faint heartbeat of it all.
That's when they were found. Someone had called in a wellness check, and all the police found was a flattened town.
The rescue team told Cobb they were the only survivor. That it'd been nearly 5 days. That it was a tragedy. A tunnel collapsed in the caves below town. A sinkhole formed. Told them it was a miracle they came out practically unscathed, if not a bit dusty. The team told them everything they'd known was gone. Told them that everyone they knew was dead.
It'd been after they were released from the hospital. They'd been asked so many questions. Important people acting like they cared. It felt like drowning.
They'd managed to get a job. Something unimportant. Small. Something that made them feel unknown and barely wanted.
It was exactly what they'd needed.
But then they got so, so tired. It'd been progressive, at first. So Cobb played it off. They were barely in their mid-twenties, and the nurse had told them they'd feel kind of shitty for a while.
Fatigue hit them like a truck. Like the sand that'd trapped them for so long.
They'd tried going to a bar to cheer up. Feel better. Forget about their family and friends and lost life. Drown their emotions and fatigue under a wave of alcohol. Until a man approached them. Until they hit it off, until Cobb invited the unfortunate man to their place.
The man asked them why they wore a coat in summer, while they were walking to the complex. They said they liked the weight. He laughed. They were crowded against a wall and kissed.
Cobb's apartment was across from a construction zone. It had exposed concrete still setting up.
They hadn't known what had come over them- one second they were there, in the moment. Warm breath on their neck and flushed cheeks and a faint taste of beer on their tongue. The next they were pushing him. Hard.
It'd been a pain to keep him under. To reset the yellow warning tape. To forget the screaming.
But in the shock of it all, they barely noticed how sated they felt. How there was such a feeling of comfort. Of acceptance and understanding. One that made them think of being encased by the ground.
When they woke to an empty bed and the feeling of guilt, they had to brush sand off their pillowcase.
~~~
They didn't go back to work for over a month. Didn't leave their apartment. Didn't let light in (when did it become so uncomfortable to be on the second story?)
~~~
Black dotted the corners of Cobb's vision. Their lungs were burning. They clawed at Din's hand, pulling it down harder. They wished it'd never leave. That they'd never feel an ounce of air in their lungs again.
With the way Din was looking at them- like they were prey- like he was studying them, they hoped they'd never move again.
~~~
They moved as soon as their lease ended. They couldn't stand walking past the pavement. They couldn't take how sand got in their hair or how the sun beat down on them.
By the time they got a new job, they'd almost replaced everything they lost. Their new clothes were thick, heavy, and warm. Warmer than they should've ever needed. They hated the way anything lighter made them feel like they'd float away. That anything lighter might let in the sun and the weather.
They hated what they were. Bouncing around town, trying to find people who wouldn't be looked for. Taking only barely what they needed. Changing jobs every time anyone tried to get too close.
They ran until there was no one to run from. Until nothing remembered them but the buried town they'd come from.
Cobb had hated The Forever Deep, back then. They'd been an idiot. They didn't appreciate it. Didn't know how much it cared. Couldn't tell how easy it was to sleep. How easy it was to let the weight wash over them. Let the sand rub their skin raw, let it make them something new.
It took years before they did. Before they realized all they needed to do was say a few kind words and a pretty face to feed themselves. Before they realized that they hadn't gone into a job for years.
By that point, they only knew they'd moved apartments by the color of the dirt. They'd only noticed how long it'd been by the way their scruff had grown in. The way it was graying. The way the sand piled around whatever room they were in.
And it didn't matter much how long they drifted. After all, The Too Close would be with them forever.
~~~
Looking at the stranger was like being pinned in place. Being searched for. Being seen.
Dark eyes would track them when they left their room. Waiting and looking for something. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying. It was what they wanted to feel forever.
They hadn't planned on staying there long, here. But they were being Watched, and it had been a good long while since they'd put on a show.
How could they refuse when there was a knock on the door?
~~~
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I am."
"Stop with that."
"Fine. I liked the part you stopped on."
"Did you?"
"Of course. The kid sounds sweet. What do you think about his dad?"
" I think his dad needs to learn to flirt outside of dark alleys."
"Asshole."
"That's my middle fuckin' name, sweetheart."