Work Text:
- Genre: Fluff, friendship
- Prompt: “Oh no, you’re a morning person.” (@Flufftober)
- Word Count: 3,207
- Pairing: Reader, Nic Cage
- World: Dead by Daylight
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You stifled a yawn as you slid into your sleeping bag, prepared to sleep after another long, painful day of trials. Not only had you been forced to face the Clown, but you also got jump-scared by Michael, stuck in a metal cage by the Executioner, kidnapped by Ghostie and then puked on by the Plague for twenty minutes.
Though you tried your best, you only survived one of the five matches and that’s only because Ghostie was in one of his lazy moods. A rare treat, to be sure. One that you definitely didn’t hesitate to take advantage of. Most killers aren’t willing to let survivors go because they get punished for not offering any sacrifices to the Entity.
Ghostie is the golden child, however, and is the only one who doesn’t receive punishment for not doing his job properly. Unfortunately for you, and the other survivors, he loves his job and is rarely willing to let his prey go.
You stifled another yawn when your head hit the pillow, a relieved sigh passing your lips. Sleeping on the forest floor for months on end certainly wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, often leaving you with back pain or a sore neck, but it was a nice break when you’ve spent the whole day running for your life. But hey, at least the Entity gave everyone a fluffy pillow to use.
Sleep was slowly wrapping itself around your sore body, dragging you down into the great expanse of dreamland with promises of your favorite food. It was so realistic that you could practically taste it upon your tongue and then…
A shrill alarm echoed throughout the survivor’s camp, making you jump so violently that you knocked your head against the ground. Your heart raced within your chest, wide eyes staring at the opening to your tent. It took your sleepy brain a moment to realize just what that alarm meant – a new survivor had just been abducted and dropped into the realm.
“Bastard,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair. “He waited until most of us were in bed before doing this! Not even sleep is sacred anymore.” You groaned, falling back onto the pillow. You considered just trying to go back to sleep, not interested at all in the newest victim, but you knew it would be hours before you calmed down enough to find sleep once more.
With a sigh, you pulled yourself up, tossing the sleeping bag off your body before crawling toward the entrance of your tent. The others were already making their way over to the large fire that sat in the middle of the camp, each with varying stages of curiosity or annoyance.
You stepped up beside Bill, peering over his shoulder to get a better look. It was a man, lying on his back next to the fire, still unconscious from the trip. His face was turned toward the fire so you couldn’t get a good look at him, but you took notice of his short brown hair and matching beard.
“Another new one,” grunted Bill with a shake of his head. “It’s only been a little over a month since the last one.”
You glanced over at Gabriel, the man who had been taken the last time. You hadn’t really noticed since it was hard to keep track of time in the Fog, so his comment took you by surprise. A month seemed way too short of a time span. Who came before Gabriel? When had they arrived? You had already forgotten.
“When do you think he’ll stop?” you asked Bill with a frown. “Surely he can’t abduct the whole damn world. For one, there’s not enough space.”
Bill took a cigarette from his pocket, sticking it in his mouth before lighting it and taking a long drag. “We won’t be here forever, kid.”
“What do you mean? We can’t die, the Entity always resurrects us.”
“We do die, he just brings us back. There’s only so much the human body can take before it finally gives out on us. We can’t keep up this vicious cycle forever.”
‘Well, that’s depressing.’ You frowned at his dark view.
A part of you knew he was right, but another part of you hadn’t given up hope just yet. You wanted to survive, to return home to your previous life, to escape the death grip that the Entity had on your soul. You were brought here somehow, there just had to be a way to escape.
Then again, Boll has been in the Fog for a lot longer than you have. He’s old, too, being forced to fight for his life day in and day out.
A groan caught your attention and you turned your head, watching as the newest victim slowly turned his head, brow furrowed in pain. It took your brain a moment to register just what you were seeing, but when it finally caught up, your eyes widened in shock.
“Oh my god…”
Meg glanced over at you curiously. “Do you know this guy?”
“Yes!” you replied quickly before shaking your head. “I mean, no, not really… but also yes.”
“Huh?” David’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Do ya or not?”
“I know who he is, but I don’t know him personally.” You swallowed nervously as you stared down at the man, watching him slowly come to. “He’s from my universe where he… he…”
“He what?” Dwight scratched his cheek, glancing between you and the guy on the ground.
“He’s super famous! He’s one of my favorite moviestars, Nicolas Cage!”
His eyes slowly peeled open, meeting yours at the sound of his name. His voice was deep and groggy as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Where…” he winced, grabbing his head. “Where am I?”
“Hi!” you breathed out, trying to keep your excitement under control. Now was not the time to be a rabid fan begging for an autograph. You kneeled down beside him, holding out your hand as you introduced yourself. “We have a lot to discuss. Just take it easy for now, the trip to the Fog takes a lot out of you.”
“The Fog? What -” He suddenly jumped in surprise when a shock went through his wrist from the survivor mark branded against his skin.
You winced, feeling the same pain shooting through your own wrist. You scowled up at the sky, knowing the Entity was watching. “Really, man? He just got here, give him a break!”
“Who… are you talking to?”
“The entity. He’s a bastard,” you scowled, holding your hand out to him. “It’s time for your first trial. Don’t worry, though, I’ve been summoned, too, so I can help you!”
Nic blinked dumbly as you pulled him off the ground, brown eyes scanning the crowd that was watching him. As a famous moviestar, he was used to the attention, but most people looked at him with adoration, not pity.
“Since this is your first trial, you won’t have any blood points. That’s the currency here.” You glanced at him as you led him toward the shack at the back of the campsite. “That means you won’t be able to use any items or perks. Don’t worry, though, I’ll bring a good med kit for you.”
Perhaps he should have listened when his wife told him that eating Taco Bell at four in the morning before going to bed was a bad idea. Surely he was just experiencing some hyperrealistic dream brought on by the crunchwrap comma he was now in. He decided he would just go along with it until it was time to wake up.
What was the worst that could happen?
Inside the shed sat four red lockers against the back wall, a blue orb hanging from each padlock.
“Hold up your wrist to the orb, like this,” you instructed, holding the survivor mark in front of the orb. It scanned it before the lock popped open.
He followed your lead, tugging open the doors when they unlocked. It was like a small closet on the inside with a table that took up the length of the inside. Several items lined the walls but they were covered with chains.
You quickly grabbed the best med kit you could, glancing at the timer. It hadn’t begun to tick down, meaning the killer hadn’t arrived yet. You used this time to explain the locker to him.
“That is the blood web, it’s basically the market of this realm. You have no blood points yet so you can’t unlock any of the items. You’ll earn blood points after every trial, even if you lose. The items you have currently will appear on the table.”
Nic slowly nodded as he listened to you. “Okay. And what does that mean?” He pointed toward the timer at the top of the locker, now counting down from sixty.
“That’s how much time we have before the trial begins. If you haven’t chosen your items by the time it hits 0, you’ll go in empty-handed.”
He nodded again.
“There are five main items – the flashlight, toolbox, map, key and med kit,” you explained, pointing to each item, eyes flickering to the timer. You quickly explained the primary function for each item, but you didn’t have enough time to explain about their add-ons. “Hold onto your horses!”
The shack started to shake, thick black mist rolling in from every direction. It quickly filled the small space until it was impossible to see anything. There was a sudden, strange sensation not unlike an elevator coming to a stop and the mist slowly faded.
It was the Backwater Swamp.
You cursed, looking around for any sign of the actor. This was not a good map for survivors, especially not for someone’s first trial. You needed to find him quickly before the killer did. Why, oh why, hadn’t you taken the time to explain that he needed to be stealthy and avoid the killer? That was way more important than items!
You ran around the edge of the map, using the trees and tall grass to stay relatively hidden. Thankfully, you were able to find him fairly quickly, wandering around with no idea what to do or where to go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only thing you spotted.
Dread filled you as you noticed Michael lingering in the distance, half-hidden behind a set of tall boxes. You knew he was building up his stalk so you rushed forward, grabbing Nic’s wrist before darting into the killer shack, doing your best to avoid his line of sight.
“Hey, calm down!” cried Nic as he stumbled after you. “Why are we running?”
“No time!” you hissed, shoving him behind a large tree stump. You settled beside him, peering over the wood as Michael stopped at the door of the shack, staring at you. “Michael, stop!”
He tilted his head to the side.
“Listen closely. If he attacks me, you gotta run. Find the others and stick with them, okay?”
“What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed as he glanced between you and the tall man. “Why is he dressed like Michael Myers?”
“He’s not dressed like him, he is him.”
“Huh? That’s crazy.”
“Just do as I say!” You hissed at him, harsher than you meant to but Michael always put you on edge. You slowly stood up, holding your hands up in surrender. “This is Nic’s first trial and he hasn’t even been in the realm for ten minutes.”
Michael slowly started to approach you, the knife glinting under the full moon.
You released a shaky breath, ignoring the warning bells that were screaming at you to run far, far away. “He has a lot to learn, so please… please let him go! You can hook me if you want, I won’t run.”
With his long legs, he was in front of you in just a couple of strides. You could hear him breathing behind the mask, black eyes staring at you as he towered over you. He slowly raised the knife and you swallowed, waiting for it to pierce your skin. To your surprise, he didn’t attack you, instead using the knife to point at a nearby gen.
You released the breath you had been holding. “Thank you, Michael. Here.”
He stared at the med kit you were holding out to him for a moment before his free hand reached out to grab it. He nodded in approval before pointing at the gen again.
You didn’t fully trust him because he was a killer, after all, but you grabbed Nic’s arm, directing him toward the gen. You made sure to keep yourself between the two men just in case.
“What is happening?” inquired Nic, more to himself than you.
Kate poked her head from around a wooden box, looking wearily at Michael as he watched the two of you. “Is he being nice today?”
“I hope so,” you muttered, kneeling down beside the gen. “Listen closely, Nic.”
The male nodded, kneeling down at the end of the gen.
“As a survivor, you have one goal – surviving. To do that, you have to repair five generators that are littered across the map.”
His brow furrowed as he looked at the mess of wires. Clearing his throat and rolling up the sleeves of his maroon jacket, he grabbed two wires and connected the ends. There was a loud sound as the gen shook violently, sparks flying into his face.
You glanced at Michael nervously but he just tilted his eyes and you could feel his eyes staring holes into you. “You have to be careful. If you blow the gen, the killer will hear it and come running.”
“Sorry,” he offered you a sheepish smile before trying again. Between the three of you, you were able to get the gen done. The fourth survivor, Claudette, had already gotten the first one done and was halfway through the third.
Kate patted your shoulder. “Show him around, I’ll get to work on the next gen.”
“Sure,” you nodded, taking Nic by the wrist and leading him over toward the killer shack. You taught him about vaulting speeds, lockers, hook stages, and totems.
“What about healing?” He inquired, hand on his chin in thought. “Do you have to use a med kit?”
“No, it just makes it faster. Healing in this realm is a bit… strange.” You tried to find the right words to explain it to him, but it wasn’t an easy thing to explain. You knew he would learn better if you showed him.
You glanced at the shack door, seeing Michael peering around the doorframe, watching the two of you. With a sigh, you turned toward him. “Hey, uh… do you mind helping me?”
He remained still for a moment before slowly stepping into the shack, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t down me, just… injure me. Gently.”
In the blink of an eye, Michael had raised the knife and slashed it across your chest. You stumbled back, gritting your teeth in pain.
“O-Oi!” Nic cried out, eyes wide as he watched the blood soak into your shirt.
“All you have to do is put your hands over the wound and think about healing it,” you explained, motioning him over. He sent the tall man a weary look as he closed the distance.
“This is insane,” he muttered, holding his hands over the wound. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind on healing you. You felt the strange sensation overtake you, as if time were reversing itself. The wound slowly closed. “Well, shit…”
The final gen was powered, an alarm sounding throughout the map as the gates were powered. Your heart rate suddenly increased, pounding so loudly in your ears that it was painful. Realization filled you and you knew what was about to happen.
“Run!”
Michael grabbed your shoulder, turning you roughly toward him before stabbing the knife into your stomach with such force that your feet lifted off the ground. You slammed your fist against his shoulder, a pained cry passing your lips as blood splattered against the wooden floor.
Nic’s eyes widened, heart beating violently against his ribs. He had to do something to help you, but his feet were frozen to the spot.
Michael stabbed you a couple more times before tossing your body to the ground, the life leaving your eyes. For a moment, he just stared at the brunette, head tilted and blood dripping from the knife. Then he turned and left the shack.
Nic swallowed hard, falling to his knees beside you. “Oi, kid, are you…”
You weren’t breathing.
He released a shaky breath. He was beginning to think that he wasn’t in a dream at all. It was a nightmare.
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The sound of shuffling filled the tent, a cheerful humming rousing you from your sleep. As soon as the trial ended, you had returned straight to your tent to get some sleep because being mori’d always drained your energy. You couldn’t have been asleep for more than four hours and your body still felt exhausted.
Your eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep. It took a moment to register what was taking place before you.
Nic was humming to himself as he cleaned up your side of the tent, throwing away empty food wrappers and folding your clothes that had been dumped into a pile.
You squinted at the tent flap, seeing only darkness. You couldn’t hear any of the other survivors out and about, either. “What time is it?” you muttered, resting your face back against the pillow.
He checked the shiny silver watch on his wrist. “Five in the morning.”
“Five?!” you groaned tiredly. “It’s been four hours, why haven’t you gone to sleep yet?”
“I did,” he smiled at you, setting your clothes in the corner. “I just woke up.”
“Huh?” You blinked dumbly, tired brain taking a long time to register just what this meant. When it finally understood, you felt dread fill you. “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re a morning person…”
“You know what they say – early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,” he quoted with a smile, earning a deadpan look from you. “There was a study conducted last year with over 1,000 participants. Over 60% of the early risers reported being more productive and -“
“I don’t care,” you cried, burying your face in the pillow. “Please, I need my sleep.”
He chuckled softly, reaching over to pat you on the back. “You did have quite the match. Get some more rest, I’ll head out and meet the other survivors.”
Before he even finished his sentence, you had fallen asleep again, snoring softly. With another chuckle, he turned your head so you wouldn’t suffocate before stepping out of the tent. He still had no idea what was going on, where he was or how he even got there, but he was thankful for your kindness and guidance. You reminded him of his kids and he vowed to do what he could to prevent you from being mori’d again.
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