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The darkness was familiar, like a long-time friend. Yet Cypher approached it with caution; He’s been here too many times to fall for its saccharine promises again.
He awoke to sweat and heavy gasps, his lungs inflating and deflating at rapid rates, choking and struggling against his will. He knew in his mind that it was all just simulacrums, fake imitations. Still, he desperately grasped at his head, nails digging into his scalp, trying to feel anything other than this disgusting lurch in his guts. Shadows of memories swirled around Cypher, their stares leaving lingering touches that felt like thick, suffocating oil on his skin. They danced in his peripherals in a taunting manner. You are your past , they whispered. No, I can’t be , he reasoned.
Resentment was what he felt towards these horrific showings, these nightmares that plagued his psyche during later hours. It was absolute mockery. He’s seen it before, experienced it, lived it, felt all these sensations burning within his chest, threatening to explode with each passing second. He has seen their dead, broken, battered bodies with his own eyes, seen the blood splattered across everything they’ve worked so hard to build.
Yet in these visions that tormented his unconsciousness, although they may try to emulate the feeling, it never came close to the reality he’s been through.
And eventually, he began to regain control over his body and his shallow breaths started to soften. Eyes still closed, he unclenched his fists and loosened his muscles.
Cypher gathered his composure and started to meticulously piece his thoughts together, a routine he’s gotten used to by now. Soon, there will be familiar footsteps echoing through the corridors of the headquarters. Going for his morning run, Sova’s steps would come first; They were careful, as to not wake the other housemates, and quiet, so that you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you weren’t actively trying to. Skye’s trot would come next: light, full of life, and energized as she headed towards the training range. Perhaps by then, Jett’s amble to make breakfast would appear. That usually triggers a chain reaction of the younger agents, Phoenix, Neon, Gekko, or Yoru. Naturally, Brimstone’s heavy boots would follow, typically in a rush and after the eruption of chaotic clanks from the kitchen. And past that, it was anyone’s guess, as sounds of people he cared for filled the building.
These thoughts comforted Cypher, bringing a small smile to his face. He had a family then and he has a family now. He knew his past self had made irrevocable mistakes to lose the family he once cherished and by god has he paid his price, ten-fold, hundred-fold, ripping himself apart because of the crushing guilt. But like every other wound, the passage of time stitched it back together, no matter how stubborn the flesh may be.
So in the present, with these scars embedded in his being, he braced tomorrows along with the people he has now, finding appreciation in the small moments, whenever.