Chapter Text
The moment Guel opens his eyes, he realizes this is a dream.
In front of him, a few steps, a few heartbeats away is his father, who has a gaping hole in his chest. It does not drip with bits of guts and organs, nor does it have ragged strings of muscle exposed. It's simply a hole, like the one the stabbed though Dilanza Sol.
For the past few days/weeks/months/years/centuries, he's been stuck in a haze. He does not know where he is or what he has been doing. The last thing he can remember is an ugly burst of fire in the vast vacuum of space.
There's nothing to do except dip in and out of reality. If he tries to sleep, his father will yell, punch, kick at him to get back up. If he tries to wake, his father drags him back into the blank space.
Surrounding them is darkness, a deep black pit with no stars or explosions. It's a kind of emptiness that sucks the air and warmth right out of you, leaves you a husk. But Guel still has fear and hunger coursing through his body, so maybe it's his father that will hollow him out completely. He'll carve a hole into Guel's chest with a knife or with his bare hands; he'll rip his heart out with a pluck of the veins— and Guel will take his punishment as he has done so many times before. Once his matching hole is finished, he hopes it hurts like hell.
But today, his father does not berate Guel or slap him across the face or claw out his heart. He merely stares down at him, like he's a particularly unsightly insect.
However, even with his father's stifling silence, his dream doesn't allow him a moment of quiet. Someone— no, something else is screaming at him. It's not the hateful half-truths and angry accusations his father throws (threw?) at him; it's an animalistic cry. The shrieks of a beast pretending it's human curdles his blood. Guel doesn't know who/what is screaming, but the shrill screech pierces his ears and head. He wants to yell back at it to just— just—
Just shut up!
Guel nearly flinches at his own thought. (Or was it really just a thought? Did he say it out loud to his father? Did he mistake his father's howling for his own? But his father hasn't hit him yet so he hasn't done nothing wrong yet.) His father said those exact words so many times after his and Lauda's mothers left, when Guel cried over whatever broken thing at the moment. Be it a shattered plate, his brother's skinned knee, or a bird's gentle corpse, his father would yell at him until he dries his tears and forces down his hiccups. By age fifteen, his father perfectly trained him to snuff out the welling in his eyes with iron and rage.
But he's no longer in his father's hands anymore. He escaped the prying eyes of his father. And that's because his father is—
Saltwater start brimming around the edges of the trance. A wave that hits his legs nearly topples him over. Slowly, the ocean fills out the dream, and Guel can only find himself sinking. The screaming is now mixed with harsh flashes of breathing, feebly gathering oxygen to heal its drowning lungs.
Is that... Guel?
Amidst the screams, a voice crackles in like a radio. It's faint, it's painfully small, but it's there. The boy clings to the lifeline, a raft in the middle of the sea.
And suddenly, his father, half submerged in the water, smiles. It's been so long since he saw his father smile, so the man's face is a hazy blur, but the sheer warmth and kindness that hasn't been there for years is so clear that Guel couldn't mistake it for anything else.
The screaming grows louder and nearly cuts out the transmission.
So you... were okay... I've been... search—
The water is no longer surrounding him. There are stars in the sky. His chest hurts so much even though there's no hole.
Even though he's awake, someone is still screaming. Guel's throat runs cracked and dry.