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Getting out of the Ossuary shouldn’t have been the easiest part. He did not expect the imprisonment to hit him this hard, this deep. Lucanis was used to nightmares, he was a Crow, a trained assassin, they were basically in his job description. It was embarrassing that a little bit of torture and a year lost to time would not leave him alone like this.
Rook might actually punch him this time if they heard his train of thoughts. They might even add a lecture on top, something about taking it easy, being gentle on himself.
Thankfully, that was not happening, because they were asleep. Leaning against Lucanis as they sat in Rook’s room.
In the only room in the fucking Lighthouse that had a view of a seafloor. Whoever designed it was probably laughing their ass off right about now while Lucanius sat stiff as a board, praying that the tension in his body won’t wake the person peacefully resting next to him.
He fought hard to ignore the prickling in his fingertips, the way his lungs refused to take in enough air, leading to a sharp pain in his chest. It was all fine. So what if the gallons of water behind the glass threatened to swallow him whole? Not like it was real, Lucanius can get through it. He survived worse.
He didn’t get a blink of sleep that night.
Or the night after.
Or the night after that night.
---
He was running on coffee and Spite. Literally. The demon was in his peripheral vision, eyeing him with a look that Lucanius really did not like.
We need sleep. Rest. Rook sees. They know. They will ask.
He could not give Spite any answers, as he was too busy holding his breath. Watching the way fish swam behind the glass, small air bubbles forming around them. They couldn’t drown, couldn’t feel the water fill their nose, their mouth. Slowly trickle down into their lungs.
There was something almost poetic about getting waterboarded underwater.
“Lucanis? Is everything…alright?” Rook squirmed against him, laying their head on Lucanis’ chest while they relaxed on the ground in their room, surrounded by pillows. The skepticism in Rook’s eyes was so palpable that Lucanis felt its presence beside him, standing right next to Spite. He just smiled at the other, leaning down to wipe the worry from their face with a press of his lips. He tasted salt and seaweed.
There was nothing to worry about, he just had to get over it. He always did.
---
A searing hot brand was pressed against his shoulder blade. The smell of burning flesh, the way his skin molded around the iron so painful he was on the edge of blacking out. A cut placed right over the new burn, deepening the wound. The feeling was so intense it broke through his dissociation, his eyes opening wide in shock.
Yet he couldn’t scream, the wet rag over his face preventing him from opening his mouth unless he wanted to breathe in more water. A fish stopped in front of the big window of the torture room. It’s wet eyes eying him with pity. But behind it, hidden glee. It had Zara’s eyes and it was laughing at him. He wanted to move, to throw something its way to make it go away but his hands were tied and his body was in pain and he couldn’t breathe and Spite was screaming in his ear-
“Lucanis!” He woke up, his free hand instinctively reaching for a dagger hidden underneath his pillow. The familiar feeling of cold heavy steel bringing him some peace. Mierda.
Rook was watching him with a raised eyebrow, sitting a safe distance away from Lucanis in the off chance of him snapping upon waking up. Not like they could run away if he really wanted them dead.
(They could. They faced gods together. Rook was built from steel, nerve, attitude and sheer willpower to get shit done. And they were very hard to kill.)
“So.” Lucanis looked Rook’s way, his shoulders falling in exhaustion. Spite was in his peripheral vision, mouthing “I told you so” his way. Lucanis might try to look into exorcisms after this.
“Please stop looking at me like a kicked griffon, I wanted to scold you but it’s really hard when you remind me of Assan whenever he gets inside the pantry. He still has the nerve to act like he feels guilty about eating half the rations.” Rook carefully reached their hand forward, laying it just so Lucanis can reach them if he wants.
He did not waste any time, dropping the dagger and intertwining their fingers. Running his thumb over Rook’s scarred knuckles, observing the difference in their skin texture. He really needs to get them a better pair of gloves.
“What’s wrong?” Rook squeezed his hand back, an encouraging smile adoring their face.
“Remember the Ossuary? The underwater prison?” Lucanis laughed as he watched Rook go through all the stages of grief when they realized what Lucanis meant by that, their eyes scanning the room they were in.