Cover me

“I feel alive again...”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— Clancy

In which a young poet is determined to escape from his city to find his real purpose outside of the city walls.

Chapter 1: “Can you save my”

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

Today, I plan on escaping – well, maybe not today.

I sit on a bench with a smooth and paved path on the ground that leads to different buildings in this city. And my journal sits in my lap, face open and a pencil in hand. Its lines and curves form into letters, which then form into words.

Those words then lead into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs. Although sometimes it's not much, it's what keeps my mind busy and my hands from wanting to claw myself from the skin they call "beauty".

Something makes me stop writing mid-sentence, and when I look up from my journal, I see the council walking down the paved path, passing me in the process.

Everyone in the area stood aside, creating a clear walkway for them as if they were royalty. The bishops are the ones who basically run the city, making sure that everything is in an orderly fashion.

It always is, there's never been once that I can recall where it wasn't. Though I've wondered what would happen if it wasn't. What would be the consequences of the person's actions?

Their red cloaks are the only thing in the eye's view that has some kind of life to it; everything here is always so gloomy. Our clothes, the structures in the city, and the city walls.

For as long as I can remember, I can never recall a sunny day. Grey clouds and gloomy skies cover me and the other citizens.

Once the council is no longer in sight, everyone goes back to what they were doing. I sigh quietly and shut my journal, then stand up with it in hand.

Around me are a few glances, I choose to ignore it and walk to my room. As I do, I'm approached by one of the bishops, Keons. He insists that I join them and some of the other citizens for a small ceremony.

And even though I'd rather just go to my room to figure out my plan for getting out of here, I agree. I don't want my plan to go downhill already when it hasn't even been thought through.

I smile as Keons walks back to the gathering hall, my smile dropping almost immediately once his back is turned toward me. Now, instead of going to my room, I follow Keons.

Journal still in hand.

When we arrive at the building, we go inside and I take a seat while Keons joins the other Bishops. More and more people begin to come in and take other seats that are available, then suddenly the lights dim.

There's an eeriness to it that I can't pinpoint as to why, and as I think of that question, it hits me. Everyone in the room has their eyes upfront.

I figure that maybe now could be the time to write again, so I do. Every so often, I glance up from my book, and everyone else is still with their eyes glued to the people in front of them.

Something that catches my attention is Keons. I've heard of the stories, but I never knew if they were true. He's a bishop who has the power to seize an available vessel and command it to do whatever you need it to do.

He's looked up to a lot by the people of Dema, and now I know why. I never really looked up to them. As a child, I always wondered what was beyond the looming walls surrounding the city.

By the time I was in my ninth year, I yearned to get out. And since my curiosity has only grown.

As I grew up, I always wondered what I'd be in this world, what my place would be. And now I know what I want.

When Keons is finished, a few people clap. Their faces had no expression; the noise is what makes me look up from what I was doing.

While everyone around me gets up to leave, I stay in my seat. Finishing up with what I'm writing, and once I'm done, I stand up.

Nico, one of the bishops, begins to approach me. And I have no idea why, "Clancy, who convinced you to come?" He asks.

"Keons, he insisted. I respond to his question, and he nods once. "You'll learn a thing or two," he tells me, then walks away.

Which makes me question his response, so I ignore it and start to walk away. But that's when I get an idea, I turn myself around on my heels to look back at Nico.

"I need to ask you something," I speak up. He turns to face me again. "What is it?"

The words don't come out right away as I fidget with my pencil. I swallow, "I was wondering if you could take me out of the city," I begin.

"It's for something I'm writing, and I can't find the right scenery," I tell him, hoping that was convincing enough.

He's silent, not even a look in the eye from him. He turns his back to me, walking up on the altar, "You know nobody has ever gone outside of these walls–"

"What about the Banditos?" I ask in retaliation, and he's then silent again. "The Banditos are a myth, Clancy," he says, stepping down from the altar, now only a few feet away from me.

"I know you mean no trouble, but my answer is no," he tries to stop the conversation at that. I won't let it down, though. "Please," I beg. My voice breaking.

"For my mother, it meant everything to her for me to see her in the sunset," I say.

Nico's diameter changes for a brief moment at the mention of my mother. And it works, he nods. "Tomorrow before sunset, not a minute later," he replies.

I nod, trying to hide the smile that forms on my lips. "Ok" is all I say before leaving the building. It worked, it really worked. I'm not out of the woods yet, though. I need to figure out where to go as soon as I escape.

There's only an hour until I leave, for now, I ponder in my room. Wondering what it'll be like outside of the walls, it'll be unfamiliar for sure. But one way or another, I'll find my way around.

All my life, I have always wondered what home felt like, because Dema has never once felt like home. It's only the place I was born into, but not a home.

A home isn't cruel.

Perhaps when I'm out there, I'll find my home and feel the light on my face from the sun. I'm sure that would feel like home.

I stand up, walking over to the desk in my room and open the drawer. I rummage through the clutter inside. Eventually, I found what I was looking for.

By the weight of the small box, there's still at least a dozen or so left. Which is good, I'll need them.

When there's a sudden knock on my door, I shove the small box in my pocket and open the door, but when I do, there's no one there. I look to my left and down the hall, and I see something. I quickly grab my journal, chasing after the thing I saw.

Eventually, it leads me outside where Nico is. Alongside him is a man, at least from what appears to be a man. Whatever led me here led me to a discreet part of the circular city.

It's only the three of us as far as I can see. "Clancy," Nico starts. I nod, glancing at the person next to him, who turns his back toward me and gets into a car, that I wonder how it got in.

Nico glances at me while I glance back at him, then I get into the car, I sit behind the driver staying silent. The car starts and I look out the window, what if I regret this?

Chapter 2: "Cover me!"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

I've created a fiery diversion for myself and now Nico has lost my tracks. All I have on me are the clothes on my back and then my journal.

While gathering this plan, I didn't think of supplies through.

With the sun just barely peering over the tall trees, I go back to the scene of disaster. The car is burnt almost to ash, as if one wrong touch and it just crumples into a pile of ash.

I walk over to the burnt vehicle and open the trunk, taking out the only thing inside. A green jacket with yellow tape on the shoulders and the left arm.

I shake the jacket out of any debris and put it on, adjusting the sleeves. And before I can hesitate any longer, I flee the scene.

My mind is racing with thoughts as I walk away from the car, I start by following the road. An hour passes and it's pitch black out.

I have no idea where I'm going, I really should have thought about this better. But I'm ok, I'm fine for the meantime.

I'm free now, I can finally breathe.

My lips curl up into a smile, one that I can't control. I smile uncontrollably, which I like. I'm finally free, and it's definitely something I can get used to.

I stop in my tracks, the gravel under my feet from the cracked paved road. Then, I rest my hand over my chest, I lean my head back. And just for a moment I look up at the sky, at the stars and the moon.

God, the moon was beautiful and the stars just completed it all together, I just... can't help but grin at my situation.

For a moment longer, I then close my eyes, a light breeze hitting my face. I'm alive.

When I open my eyes, I admire the sky for a brief moment then open my journal. The moon gives me just enough light so I can write down something real quick, then once I finish, I tuck the journal in a pocket that's on the inside of my jacket and zip it up.

But then again, I have nowhere to go.

It's been a few weeks, they've been dreadful, but better than what it would have been if I was still in Dema. The lack of food has kinda been worth the adventure, I've written many things in my journal since then.

Though, still no interaction with anybody since Dema, which kinda worries me.

Maybe I should just turn back.

I don't remember what happened, but I woke up wet and cold. When I sat up I saw small streams of water around me, not a lake or a body of water. It was just small streams, oversized puddles maybe.

Tall cliffs surround me to my left and right, I observe what's around me and stand up.

Then I begin to walk, for some reason, I have this feeling like I'm being watched. I keep glancing up at the cliffs, but nothing.

There's nobody even there, maybe I'm just hallucinating. Although I'm surrounded by cliffs, it's a beautiful sight, the water that reflects from the sun.

I could get used to just this sight here.

For a moment, I take out my journal and write in the things I've seen so far along with my journey. Yet, there's still so much more to see.

When I'm done, I tuck the journal back into the pocket inside of my jacket and continue to walk, following the small and thin stream.

Minutes later, I get that feeling like I'm being watched again, and when I look up I see someone up on the cliff, watching me.

Something makes me turn around, still with my eyes up scanning the cliffs, there's then more people staring down at me.

One by one, they appear in a line, all next to each other. I take a few steps back to observe them. The heel of my boot gets caught on a rock, making me fall back, the backside of my clothes now wet.

I sit up once again, glancing back up, still watching me are the people on the cliffs. I sigh quietly and stand back up, dusting myself from any dirt or debris.

Then, once again I look up. Only this time they go from looking at me to something off in the distance, and so I turn around to see something in the distance as well.

It's not until the figure gets closer that I realize it's someone on a horse, and not just anyone, one of the bishops. Their red cloak is what makes them stand out.

How I couldn't tell when they were farther, I'll never know I guess. As they approach me, getting closer and closer, all I can do is stand there.

It feels as if my feet have molded within the uneven ground underneath me, and I don't know why.

In response, I close my eyes, fearing of what might happen to me. I hear the click clacks of the horses hooves stop a few feet away from me.

Then I'm approached by the bishop finally, his presence only inches away from me now.

Cover me, I tell myself, cover me.

With my eyes still shut, I clench my fists, fingernails digging into my palms. I then feel something smeared on my neck, hands, fingers, and once they pull their hands away, I finally open my eyes.

Nico.

For just a moment we make eye contact, then he turns around, getting back up on the horse. Which then begins to slowly trot as I follow distantly.

As I follow behind Nico, I look down to see a few yellow marigolds, marigolds, yellow? The banditos. I look up, seeing them, the banditos. They keep their eyes on us, but this time they don't just stand there watching.

Instead they begin tossing yellow petals off of the cliffs, they come down like snow, or rain even. Few of them look happy to be tossing the petals toward our way.

By now, it's stopped us in our tracks. All I can do is just.. admire what they do, I don't ever want to take my eyes off of the sight above me.

If only this could last forever.

But…

It can, right?

That's the whole reason why I escaped, so I could be free and no longer be a victim of their corrupt religion anymore. If only I could convince the people in the city with what they're really doing to them, to us.

I can't go back, not after I've came all of this way out here.

When I glance over in Nico's direction, I see that he's looking up at the falling petals. I then take my chance, I take my chance like I did with the car, I take a few steps back and turn around, beginning to run in the opposite direction.

It's not long before he's realized I've ran off, I hear him chase after from behind, the click clack of the horses hooves behind me.

In the span of a few weeks, it seems as if everything is repeating itself. Stopping, wandering, doubts, running for my life, and repeat.

But I'm not going to let that happen.

I wish I could say that's true, but I already know what's going to happen. I end up getting captured.

Chapter 3: “We'll win but not everyone will get out”

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

When I wake up, I'm met with disappointment.

I was hoping that when I'd wake up I'd still be in Trench, hoping that being found by one of the bishops, by Nico, was just a dream, a nightmare even.

But I was quickly wronged the moment I opened my eyes, I got up from my bed and walked over to the window, the sun just barely peeking over.

Then when I turn around, I see that to my left on my desk are my journal and a half wilted marigold. I take a few steps toward my desk, picking the flower up.

I remember how they saw me, the banditos. They watched me. So the stories are really true then, I know now.

That's going to bother me now.

And even though i say that, i end up brushing it off anyway.

Looking around my room, I realize how different it is compared to Trench, and not just my room either, the entire cement of a city. After seeing what's out there, how different and how it's full of life makes me want to go back.

If I do though, I need to make sure I’m prepared and to find a different route out of here, there's rumors of being able to escape from the tunnels, supposedly that's how the Banditos escaped.

Again, rumors. Although, a few weeks ago, I read a book in the library and now that I've seen them in person, it's as if they made the banditos seem bad.

It didn't go too much into detail, it only mentioned how the people in yellow that were beyond the walls were dangerous.

Now I don't know if that's really true, if they were then why would they throw petals to make it seem as if it was a peace offering?

The more and more I think about it, it makes me rethink everything I've ever thought of the place that I was born into, negatively.

I place the flower into a drawer and then shut it afterwards, kneeling down to grab a bag off of the floor.

Why I didn't think of this beforehand, I'll never know. But I do now.

In ten minutes, it'll be close to dawn, and in ten minutes the council will perform a small ritual for a selected amount of citizens. The ones who willingly chose to be selected.

That'll be my chance to escape, majority of the city's districts are still asleep. I'll go unnoticed, and the council is too distracted to notice.

I bring my bag over to my bed, packing a few essentials, clothes, and whatever else I could grab. Then I sling it over my shoulder and head to the hallway, it's dark and quiet, which isn't unusual.

Finally, I leave the building and begin walking down the paved path, outside there's no lights, because no one should be up wandering around in the middle of the night.

But the sun barely peeks over the horizon, giving me enough light to see where I'm going.

Although as I walk further along the path, there's a group of people ahead of me, by the looks of it they're coming in my direction.

Only their eyes show, and they hold torches. I go to turn around but there's more of them behind me, I don't know what to do, so I turn back around.

One of them approaches me while the others surround us, I take a step back. Not sure what the person is trying to do. Instead though, he stops in front of me and pulls a yellow piece of fabric down that covers the bottom half of his face.

Yellow.

I recognize him, I don't know how, but I do. It's that saying, if you recognize somebody who you've never met, then maybe you knew them in your past life.

Which maybe, that's the case.

He looks at me as if he knows me as well though, so maybe that saying I tell myself every once in a while doesn't make me insane.

There's a sound that makes us all look back, then I look back at the man in front of me "Come on," he tells me, and so I follow behind him.

We're then led into a tunnel under the city, the book was true – well, somewhat true. But the tunnels, ‘the people in yellow’, they're the Banditos.

So far, they don't seem dangerous, they seem too nice.

Torches light the way down the tunnel as we walk, everyone is silent, which is reasonable. This whole thing feels a little odd though, why would they come for me?

Is it because they saw me get taken here after I had escaped? That's the only thing I can think of.

"What's your name?" The man beside me asks quietly, I don't know why but it takes me a moment to answer his question. "Clancy," I say.

He nods, "What's yours?" I then ask. Even he seems to think about it for a moment "Call me Torchbearer for now" he smiles a little.

I nod in response, staying quiet the rest of the way until we're out of the tunnels.

We all walk in a jumbled line, Torchbearer still by my side. The side of the mountain that we come out of is green with spots of brown and the sun has risen by now.

It's still morning, but the Banditos opt to rest once it gets dark out. I wonder how far we'll have to go after that.

"How come you guys came back for me?" I look at Torch, I can tell by his facial expression that he's trying to come up with the words, "Because it's been awhile since we've seen someone escape, and we figured why not go back for you."

I nod, "You didn't want to be back there.. right?" He then asks, "No, not after I realized how I felt when I escaped" I told him.

He smiles a little and nods.

It's surreal to be back out here again, the Banditos took me in as one of their own.

It's nightfall now and everybody is asleep, at least I thought. Torchbearer comes into my tent, surprised that I'm still awake probably "Everything alright?" He asks, sitting across from me.

I nod, everything is more than alright. It's better now that I'm here, "Yeah, everything's ok," a small smile appears on my face.

He smiles as well and notices my open journal in my lap, "What's that for?" He asks, "Um, it's just so I can put my thoughts down and stuff" I pick up the journal and hand it to him.

I can't help but smile as he begins to read some of the things I've written, some of it's poetry, some is being here in Trench.

Then he smiles too, handing me back the journal, "Can I tell you something?" He looks at me, I nod and set it aside.

Bringing my full attention on him, "My name is Josh" he begins "But don't tell the others," Josh finishes.

"I won't, don't worry."

"Thank you, Clancy."

Chapter 4: "Welcome to Trench"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

When I wake up there's talking outside of my tent, and I can't help but listen in on the conversation.

"And if he ends up like them? Or gets captured again? Then what, Torch?" a voice says, I can't make out who it is though.

"He's not going to end up like them or get captured, I'll make sure of it. Now come on, we need to get to camp by nightfall."

This time it's Josh's voice, what did he mean by ending up like them?

The question lingers around as I get my things together, then I come out from the tent, seeing everyone around the area packing up their things.

I look around for Josh, but instead accidentally bump into someone. "Oh, I'm so sorry–" the voice says, which sounds like the one that was talking to Josh.

When we glance at each other I can't see her face, only her eyes, they're blue, like what people describe the depths of the ocean being.

"It's fine, I wasn't paying attention." I tell her, she nods. "Is there anything I can help with?" I ask, wanting to make myself useful.

She shakes her head "Usually we only worry about our own things, but thanks for the offer" I can tell that she smiles by how her eyes squint.

I nod and walk off, going back to looking around for Josh. Eventually I walked away from the temporary camp, seeing that out in the distance somebody was there.

Which so happens to be Josh.

When I walk over to him he notices me, but doesn't say anything at first. "Are you ok?" I ask, looking out in the distance like he does.

The view is something that I could stare at forever, it's a pretty green with a few scattered trees and what looks like a flower field not far from where we stand.

"Yeah, just thinking" Josh speaks, his gaze turning toward me. I look at him, smiling a little. "I had regrets," I tell him "After I left the first time, I was scared I wasn't going to find my place out here,"

He nods, "What made you not regret it?"

"I had come too far, and I didn't want to waste my opportunity." I admit, "Well, I'm glad you didn't" Josh chuckles a little, going back to look at the view.

I can't help but want to go down there, I turn back to Josh and grab his hand, beginning to lead the way. At first he's taken back, but he follows alongside me.

We walk down the hill silently, both of us holding on to one another to not go tumbling down the steep hill.

There are moments where we laugh at each other for seeing the other almost fall, and eventually we walk toward the flower field that isn't as far as we thought it was going to be.

It contains an arrangement of different flowers, varying from different colored poppies, sunflowers, lavender, and even marigolds.

What a coincidence, I think.

Josh walks ahead of me, plopping down into all of the flowers. I decided to do the same, looking up at the white clouds, who would have thought they'd be a different color other than grey.

While I stare up at the sky I mess with the top button on my shirt, my fingers keeping themselves busy.

I can feel Josh's gaze fixated on me, I try not to give myself away by smiling and I bite the inside of my cheek.

"There's a flower field not far from our camp" Josh tells me, I nod "Do you hang out there?" I then ask. "Usually to clear my head is all."

Then there's a silence between us as we just gaze upon the sky, watching as clouds go by.

After a moment, Josh sits up and so do I. "We should get going, but I can take you to that field tomorrow, alright?" Josh smiles at me as I nod.

We both get up off the ground, pollen and bits of scatter across our backs. We don't care though, instead he takes my hand and leads us back to the camp, where everything is packed up.

Then once everyone has their things together, we're off back to the main camp.

When we get there, we get there right before sundown, which Josh tells me is a good thing. It means more time to celebrate, he says.

There's more people in the group than I thought there would be, the bunch that came with Josh to get were only about a handful.

Here at the camp, it's packed, not in a bad way though.

It feels weird to be seen by so many people, back in Dema, I had very little interaction with the citizens in my district, though everyone had little to no interaction with one another.

Here it's the complete opposite, you get interaction with almost everybody here. All positive interactions too.

I'm given a jacket and taught their colors, and they announce me an official Bandito. I can't help but smile, I don't think I've ever smiled this much before as far as I can remember.

When I look over, I see Josh and another Bandito talking, I decide to walk over now that I'm finally able to see him. He's smiling once I get close enough, then smiles even more when he see's me.

"So, how do you feel being one of us?" He asks, I pretend to think about my answer and shrug, "I mean it's whatever" I reply jokingly. He rolls his eyes playfully at my response.

"Oh shush," he crosses, "You should thank me, I'm the reason you got to be official tonight."

I smile "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

He shakes his head "No need to thank me, Clance."

Clance.

"I mean it though, if you think about it you didn't necessarily have to go back for me," he's thinking about it, I can tell. Instead he just nods.

"I know, except I wanted to," he scratches the back of his neck, and of course, I smile at the gesture. "Awe, my savior," I tease.

He rolls his playfully again, shaking his head. There's a silence between us, one like earlier when we laid in the field.

I look around at everyone who do their own thing, talking to one another, or even laughing with each other.

At the corner of my eye, I see Josh put his hand on my shoulder and turn toward me "I'll be back," he tells me before walking off.

Even though he doesn't see it, I still nod in response. After trying to decide if I should stay where I am or not, I decide to go over and sit with a group gathered around a fire.

The group I sit with don't talk, they just sit around.

Eventually though, one by one, they each leave, leaving me on my own. And Josh still hasn't come back, I wonder what he's doing.

I don't want to be clingy and try to look for him, so instead I just stay where I am. And just when I begin to feel at home, feel safe. I feel hands wrap around the back of my neck.

Chapter 5: "Good day in Dema"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

I wanted to believe that the last time I was captured would be the last time I was stuck in this cage that was two times too small for my curiosity.

And a month ago, I was proven wrong.

As the citizens in Dema began talking and hearing the things I've done, their curiosity rose, and the bishops put my "fame" to use. I became a symbol for the people, giving them hope that was outside of these walls.

Nico didn't approve of it, though. As word of my success spread, the council decided that I should put on a show. They'll make me entertain the people, lie to them, and then they'll make me perform for them.

They decided to give off that willing look that everything I do, write, wear, and say is saturated in color. Nico and the other bishops have told me that they're planning something for me.

Something more obscure, which worries me.

Oh, and to top things off, my hair is no longer brunette, it's pink. Another thing to add onto the saturation vibe.

Currently, I'm in a room sitting at a desk. I can't recall what kind of room this is, but it only contains the desk and chair I sit at, a window, and lighting.

In front of me is a pen and a journal, but it's not my journal, my journal was confiscated. They've gone through it and have determined that I'm a threat to society.

Hence why I'm being forced to play along in some kind of propaganda, and for all I know, Josh and the Banditos lives could be on the line if I don't comply with their demands.

With my hands in my lap, I stare down at the first page of the journal, and so far I've written two words. "Good day"

It's not my usual work, but it's going to have to do for now. For them, at least. I try to shake away the fact that they might do something to me if I don't fill this page with what comes to mind in the next twenty minutes.

My eyes narrow toward the window, the sky grey and cloudy as always. Trench wasn't, the sky there was bright and sunny like I always imagined.

I take a deep breath, picking up the pen and writing the words down as they come to mind. Not stopping until my hand can no longer take it, but even then, I'm told to keep writing.

When I finally get a chance to look up, I see that it's dark out. I turn my head towards the door that's wide open to see somebody outside of it, guarding it.

It's going to be a long night, let alone the longest days of my life if I stay here any longer.

It's been a few days, and today I was told that I'm going to be a guest star on a talk show. A show I didn't know existed until now, then again it might only exist because of me.

I'm guided to a studio, and on the other side of the glass is the broadcast room. I mess with the hem of my sleeve, pulling it down over my hand to distract me.

Once it's time, I'm led inside of the broadcast room and told to take a seat. I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool at this time.

After months of sleepless nights, today is the day I perform for the first time. And to be honest, I'm scared. The worst part is it being broadcasted on television, one wrong answer or move and I'm pulled off stage.

And right now, I'm sitting back stage while they set up for the interview before I perform. In the process, I sit in a chair while a girl named Jenna styles my hair and does minor makeup touches.

She seems nice, so far she's the only gentle person I've come across these last few months while being back in Dema for the third time.

Her demeanor is soft, same with her smile, and her blue eyes compliment it all together. I can't help but smile to myself as she lifts my chin, adding some finishing touches.

"All finished" she smiles, turning me around to face the vanity mirror. I don't notice much of a difference, but that's probably the point. "Thank you" I spoke softly, my gaze fixated on her through the mirror.

I can't help it, but she looks so familiar.

Jenna nods "You're welcome." Her smile is still there while she turns around to clean up.

I don't realize I space out until somebody apart of the broadcasting crew shouts that there's two minutes until they're on air, I sigh and stand up walking up onto the interviewing set, sitting back down on a couch.

Like usual, the show hosts, Sally and Dan sit to my left and right. A crew member shouts that there's forty five seconds, Sally and Dan aren't really Sally and Dan.

Sally is Sacarver, and Dan is Lisden. Two of the bishops from the council. Except on air, they go by Sally Sacarver and Dan Lisden to appear as "normal" people.

There have been times where the seizing process of these couples bodies were what I considered sloppy. According to the council, I've lost my mind already.

But I know things they don't, they don't know that I listen in on their conversations while I'm in the writing room with writers block.

"Smile, Clancy, the sleep deprivation is obvious" I'm taunted quietly, I do as I'm told, smiling as genuine as I can. But I can't remember the last time I smiled because I had a reason to.

As the theme song for the show begins, I look at the camera and smile. And the rest is pointless, I'm asked questions, like a trivia quiz.

Then, there's games, and always leads up to one thing, questions. At this rate, I don't know what more they want me to tell them. Unless I mention Trench, or the Banditos, or maybe Josh.

No, I can't mention them, they'll use that against me.

I've lost track of time.

It's been months – no, it's been a year, I think. Maybe a year and some months.

That's not right, it's been just a little over a year, I think. Being here is agonizing enough, everyday so far, I've been expected of something.

From writing songs, to performing, sometimes I have to perform twice in one day. It's tiring, and I have no idea how much longer I can do this.

Every night, when I'm walked to my room, I look, I look to see if maybe Josh and the Banditos are coming.

They don't though, and then I wonder if maybe that was just a mind trick to play on me, a really sick mind game to be exact.

And by the looks of it, I'm beginning to lose.

My eyes feel as if I try to keep them open any longer that I might try to give in on closing them, I know I should. But I can't.

"How about you? What's your favorite color?" Lisden asks me cheerfully as Sacarver laughs from their previous conversation.

I hesitate, looking around for a moment, forgetting where I was for a moment. I stare down at the microphone in between my hands, trying to think of an appropriate answer.

My favorite color?

Trench was green, and it was beautiful, it was a mutual green that went with almost anything and everything.

There was also yellow, it made me think of the Banditos. Their colors were made up of yellow and green. It also reminded me of Josh, him specifically when I thought of yellow.

Or even yellow marigolds that were a symbol to the Banditos.

Slowly, I raise the microphone to my mouth, "Yellow" I say, not realizing how dry and monotone it sounded. What am I doing? What are you thinking Clancy?

"Sounds like somebody's not having fun!" They mock happily, their fake, cheerful voices ring in my head. Making my ears hurt.

Then it just feels like everything comes crumbling down at once, my chest tightens, and my throat feels like it's closing in.

I gasp for air, closing my eyes and hoping this is all just a terrible dream. Their high pitched laughs get louder and louder, along with their mockery.

I know I'm hyperventilating, but I can't tell if it's all in my mind or not. I stand up, the microphone falling to the floor, and just when I get a grasp for air I finally look straight into the camera.

"I'm being held here against my will! They're controlling you, all of you including me! You need to get out of Dema!" I scream, the cameras are then cut.

And now that I've finally lost it, I'm then dragged off stage by the seized hosts. Their faces look decayed and left permanently smiling.

"We tried warning you, but you didn't want to listen" one of the bishops tells me, I'm too paranoid to even figure out who it is.

I just know I can't take this anymore, before I know it, I'm then pinned down onto the floor face first, my hands and legs are bound and I'm unable to move.

But I still try to fight, I can't give up this easily. "Please!" I beg, letting out a choking sob, I feel a hand grab my forearm, rolling my sleeve up.

"Anyone, please," I still plead, there's a small pinch in my upper arm that makes me jerk my body. My body being held as still as possible.

The voices that talk to each other in the room begin to echo and my vision blurs. When I try to struggle it feels as if my body is limp and unable to move.

When I'm picked up off of the floor the weight of myself drops and I'm unable to stand on my own, let alone feel like my feet are flat on the floor.

Seconds later, I can't keep my eyes open any longer, and my breathing feels shallow. Is this how I die? Being put down like some kind of dog who didn't mean to bite?

Chapter 6: "They're trying hard to weaponize you and I"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

"Clancy?"

It's just a dream, it's not real. "Clancy! Come on, wake up" I quickly sit up, the voice in front of me appearing to be - no, God it can't be.

"Josh?" I question, he smiles at me. "I'm right here, it's alright. We're getting you out of here" he tells me.

But..

It can't be, right?

It can't be.

It can't.

What am I doing?

You're a fool to think he's coming for you. To think they're coming for you, maybe the bishops are right.

Then when I wake up, I feel myself break out in a sweat, forgetting where I was for just a moment. Wishing I woke up somewhere that wasn't Dema.

I sit up in bed, staying there until I can regain full consciousness. When I do, I notice the room I was in beforehand is different, there's no window.

And by the looks of it the only window there is, is the small one on the door. The walls are covered in padding, and then it hits me hard. They think I'm insane, they think I'm a danger to society, to everyone, including myself.

Maybe I really am and I just don't know it yet.

I bring my legs up to my chest and pull on my shirt sleeve to cover half my hands. Then wrap my arms around myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I hoped that when I'd die, I'd die somewhere out there. But who am I to think such nonsense?

Somebody comes in the room, the door creaking as it opens. I don't bother looking up from my lap, the footsteps in the room get closer to me.

There's more than one person, I'm then suddenly yanked off of the mattress.. and I just let them. I don't know why, but I just do.

As usual, I'm brought a change of clothes, then shoved into the dressing room. My hands shake as I set the outfit I was given down on the chair beside me, carefully, I strip myself of the clothes from yesterday and put the clean ones on.

I then stand in front of the mirror, fixing the collar of my shirt. While I do, my eyes begin to wander. I then catch myself examining my face and I lean just slightly closer to the mirror.

Which I immediately regret.

My cheekbones seem more visible and I look like I'm on the verge of death from lack of sleep, my hairs grown out, still pink, but dark brown roots begin to show.

For just a moment, I sit down on the floor with my head in my hands. Taking a few deep breaths before I stand back up to try and steady that shaky feeling throughout my body.

I don't know what's to come after lashing out last night on public television, and I'm surely not prepared for what could possibly come.

At this point though, what worse things could my way?

There's a knock on the door and it opens immediately, by then, I stand up. It's the same two people who dragged me out of the room, I don't look at their faces, and I only recognize them by their clothing.

One of them shoves me toward the door while the other stands outside of the door, I sigh, then walk out of the dressing room and begin to follow them.

When I notice we don't go where the stage is, I try not to think about a worse case scenario while I walk, even if something were to happen I doubt I'd get a fresh outfit right away.

I try shaking the feeling and get led to a studio, it's definitely not for a broadcast. Instead by the looks of it, it looks like a photography studio judging by the equipment scattered around the excessively large room.

The photoshoot doesn't take long, but the forty five minutes I had to stand there, posing for them, smiling to hide my exhaustion. It felt like an eternity.

Toward the end, I grew tired of their commands and started to not comply with them, I was then threatened with what happened last night.

I only stayed quiet, complying with them until the end. Then while they sort out the pictures they think look best, I'm told to stay where I am.

Which I do, I barely move an inch, only playing with the ends of my sleeves or fidgeting with my fingers while my eyes refuse to look at one spot.

But then it quickly becomes useful, my eyes stay focused on a red door with spray painted letters in white that reads emergency exit.

My head turns toward where everyone is and not one person is paying attention to me, let alone looking in my direction.

I don't even think about it twice, I just run towards the door. The sound of the door being pushed open is what gives me away, and it's loud.

It gets everyone's attention, I run out, having to run down what seems like an endless flight of stairs. There's yelling, but I don't look back, because why would I?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs there ends up being a couple people at the bottom of them, waiting for me.

It's too late for me to go back up, all I'm able to do now is back myself into a corner, which I do anyway. My chest tightens and suddenly I can no longer breathe.

What was I thinking.

My knees feel weak, so I sink down into a sitting position. Then bring my knees up to my chest and just hug them there, trying to convince myself that if I make myself as small as possible then I might just disappear.

I'm grabbed by what feels like a million hands, being pulled in every possible direction. And I just... freeze, I get that shaky feeling again, I feel it most in my chest this time.

I get pulled back into reality when I'm brought back up on my feet, all I see in front of me are angry faces and murmurs to one another about me.

My ears begin to feel like they're ringing, and all I wanna do is curl up with my hands over my ears. But I can't, I fucking can't.

My throat aches and burns from holding down the anger I feel, I don't know if I can call it that anymore. It's more than that at this point.

Something I don't know how to express or say out loud for the first time, I can't remember a time where I felt confined when it came to my feelings.

Mostly definitely now.

I'm immediately brought back to the studio, then from the studio to the stage where they're already setting up for me to perform. The hosts stand up from their seats, speaking to the crew about me.

I can't help but stare at them while they talk, trying to hear what they say. But I'm too far away.

My mind begins to overthink the endless possibilities of what could be talked about right now, and to try and take my mind off of it. I go and sit on the couch that I've sat on a million times now.

I sit in my spot with the microphone in hand, disassociating for what feels like a while now. When really, it was probably only ten minutes.

Lisden and Sacarver sit in their usual spots, asking me question and question, some are the same questions I've answered before.

I don't say anything to it and just answer them, I answer the way they want me to answer, I don't try anything, I comply with what they want me to do.

And then once the questions are over with I'm then asked one final question, "I heard you were going to sing a couple of songs for us."

The music is then queued and I stand up, walking to the opposite side of the stage, I sing once I get to where I need to be.

I do so for the next hour, the last few songs I sing, I sing as raw and disguise it as a plea for help. My voice is as desperate as possible, hoping someone, anyone will just please,

Please save me.

Then, the last song. I'm just so, so tired. As I perform, I walk where I stand in front of the camera, but from a distance.

As I try my hardest not to break down, I sink down to where I'm on my knees. Desperately holding the microphone in both hands, my voice is more and more desperate with each word that comes out.

There's only a few more words, then two, then one. And with the last word of the song, I scream it, I scream as long and as loud as I can.

My knuckles more than likely turn white from how hard I clench the microphone, as if it's something priceless that I don't want to drop.

They don't stop me, and they don't cut the cameras. But once I stop screaming, everything around me is silent. I let my arms fall in front of me, my grip loosening on the microphone.

I can feel a lump in my throat, a sob that I can't seem to hold down. I lean over, my fingers tangled in my own hair as I try to stop myself from sobbing on stage.

Just need to wait until I'm taken back to the room, I can let it out then.

Except my body had other plans, I didn't get to hold it in until I got to the room. I began to sob right then and there.

I've let myself become vulnerable to them, in front of them. And all I can do is sob like a little kid, Josh, I really need you here.

Please.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't like this.

I wish my soul was in a different body, I hate this one. I hate the way my voice sounds, the way I look, my smile, everything. I hate everything about myself.

My hair has grown out more, everyone around me has mentioned to one another how I'm losing my mind, of course I am.

They comment how I'm losing my "Tv star look", well, what else do they expect me to do? I'm forced to write, and when I don't I'm starved, and when I lash out I'm sedated.

I'm running on fumes.

The council has heard the people talk about me, they've heard them talk negatively about me. And to my surprise, they're trying to shut the gossip down.

They've decided to give me a new, fresher look. Well - they told me to give myself a new and fresher look, I've been taken to the bathroom in the dressing room and given a pair of scissors for my hair.

Which surprises me, considering how from day one I've been called sick, I roll my eyes at that.

Outside of the bathroom there's some one who stands outside of the door, and another that stands outside of the dressing room.

For a moment too long, I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to focus on what's going on atop of my head. And again, I just rolled my eyes at it.

I grab the scissors and begin trimming what I can of my hair, and by the time I'm done, the only pink left in my hair are the tips.

I'm somewhat back to myself. Somewhat.

I set the scissors down on the sink, my hand still hovering over them as I leaned against the sink, all I can do is stare at myself in the mirror.

Slowly, I reach for the sink's handle and turn it, waiting for the water to get warm. I cup my hands underneath the water after a moment.

Bringing my cupped hands to my face and splashing my face with the water, it helps somewhat.

Somewhat.

Chapter 7: "Manifest a ceiling"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

I can't remember when was the last time I've said I've been here, more months, more years, two and a half at most, maybe three. Right?

Today hasn't been so great, I've lashed out one too many times today and I still have a whole day planned ahead of me. Says a lot, doesn't it?

All I want to do is crawl into a hole where no one can find me and just cry, it sounds pathetic, but true.

I sit in the writing room as "punishment" to learn a thing or two, what else is new? I sit there, doing everything but writing. My brain is fried, I can barely comprehend to write a basic word.

Actually – scratch that, I can barely comprehend to write lyrics that the council approves of. I pick at the skin around my fingers, staring at a blank page being numbered from one all the way to eleven.

My elbows rest on the table while my fingers are entangled in my hair, tugging at it, sometimes barely, sometimes harshly.

I have no motivation to do anything, I barely want to get out of bed when I do get the chance to sleep, I don't have motivation to anything.

And maybe it's the solitude catching up to me after three years, the sleep deprivation, or even the degrading nonsense I get from the council when I don't do what I'm supposed to.

All I know is that I don't even want to sit up, or hold this stupid pencil, I just want to rip my hair out and scream until my lungs give out for lack of oxygen, my voice too.

There's so much pent up inside of me, and I can't do anything about it, at this point it's beginning to spill over. I can't take it anymore.

I've tole myself that at least a hundred times now these last few years, but i mean it now, they keep hallowing me out. And they're going to keep doing so until I’m stripped away into nothing but skin and bone.

If there's even anything left of me by then, what am I saying? There's barely anything left of me now, yet, they keep making me do the same things over and over again and again.

I've already cracked and they know that, they know when I lash out, they know when I refuse to eat, they know when I beg to be let go, they know.

And there I go, I'm brought back to reality when I feel fists full of my hair attempting to be ripped out of my head. It makes me angry, upset even.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I stand up from the chair, then grab it and throw it across the room. I already know what's going to happen next, but I don't care.

My legs give out and I'm on the floor now, my hands find their way back in my hair and I try my hardest to not pull every strand out.

I bring my legs up to my chest and my elbows rest on my knees while I put my head down, my fingernails dig into my scalp while my chest heaves up and down, up, down, over and over again.

It feels as if my fingers are locked up, like the key to unlock them was dropped down the deepest drain or hole imagined to never be found.

Take a deep breath.

It doesn't work.

I bite down on my bottom lip and close my eyes, from down the hallway I can already hear the footsteps that come over.

They get closer and closer.

I'm finally able to detach my hands from my head and they fall down in my lap after I've put my legs out straight, and I've realized that maybe I should have just left my knees to my chest.

The footsteps are now approaching from behind me and their hands grab and claw at me as they make me stand on my feet.

I don't struggle, I don't try to run, and I don't say anything. I don't do anything, instead I keep my eyes locked on the floor until I'm pushed, a gesture for "Start walking".

And so I do.

With my eyes still on the floor with my head slightly down, I follow where I'm lead.

Except this time I don't know where I'm being taken, that's when I stop, finally I look up, looking around to see if anything looks familiar.

It doesn't though, everything looks the same at this point.

They notice that I'm now alert, so one of them grabs my arm. Dragging me alongside them to be taken wherever I was being taken to.

Once we're there, I'm taken inside of a room and forced to sit down in a chair, then told "Stay there". Which scares me, and I don't know what to expect.

I'm left in the room alone, there's a table and another chair with where I sit. Then a window right next to the table, through the window is the same exact room, no color, and only a table with two chairs across from each other.

I inhale shakily through my nose, glancing down to mess with the sleeves of my shirt. But before I do I notice the dried crimson color underneath my fingernails and finger tips.

What did I do?

The sound of the door makes me snap my head up, I knew what to expect, but I still wasn't expecting it somehow.

A woman sits across from me, smiling as she begins to speak, she's being seized, I can tell by her bloodshot eyes from behind her glasses she wears.

"What brings you in today?"

I don't know.

I only shrug, staring back down at my fingernails. I'm trying to figure that out as well. The council wouldn't just have me brought in here just because, they have their reasons for everything that I do.

I'm too priceless for them to just be doing something like for absolutely no reason, "What brings you in today?" The woman repeats.

"I don't kn–" but when I look up, there's nobody there. Which confuses me, I look around the small room, even though I would have seen her in my peripheral.

The door opens again, when I look over again it's the same woman again. Only this time her eyes aren't bloodshot, she looks normal this time.

She sits down, and she doesn't smile as widely as she did a minute ago. What's wrong with me? I shake my head and stand up.

"If they cared they would have gotten you out of here already," The woman looks up at me, how does she know that? "That's not true–" I say.

Maybe it is though, it's been three years already.

"He failed you, Clancy" she tells me, it's not true, I know it isn't. But all I can do is just back into corner as if it's going to magically shield me.

The phrase is repeated, over and over again. All I can think to do is try to make myself as small as possible, because it's what I do anyway.

Then again, what good is that going to do?

I sit in the corner with my arms wrapped around myself and my knees to my chest, I can't breathe. Everything is too much and I can't handle it, I really have lost my mind, haven't I?

"Clancy"

It's just my mind.

"Clancy"

I look up from from my fingernails– I look up from my fingernails?

I'm back where I was sitting beforehand too.

"Clancy? Can you explain what happened?"

I look at the voice in front of me, the same woman. Except her demeanor is different, and there's a pen and paper on the table in front of her.

"Explain what?" My voice cracks when I ask, her eyes wander down to my hands that are now on the table – they were just in my lap?

I nod, trying to remember what happened, "I think.. I think I hurt myself," I respond. The woman nods and begins to stand from her seat, "Do you mind if I take a look?"

I shake my head in response as she nods, my head hurts, but it's not a headache. As she examines me I run my fingers through my hair, then I remember.

My jaw clenches when I remember it was my scalp, did I really zone out that far? She seems to notice my facial expression as I'm trying not to wince in pain.

"Do you mind if I take a look?"

My hand drops into my lap and I shake my head again, "No," I say quietly. I can tell that she's trying to be careful with me, as if I was something valuable to someone.

As her fingers search through my hair, I can't help but stare at the window that looks into the other room.

I don't take my off of the room, eventually somebody comes in. My eyes focusing in on them, right now all I can see is the back of their head.

Then the person turns, all I can is there side profile, except I know that side profile from anywhere. I feel as if I'm dreaming, it can't be.

"Josh?" I whisper to myself, what's odd is that he's smiling to whoever is talking to him. Why is he smiling though?

Better question is, why is he here? Was he captured too? What about the other banditos, did they get them too?

The sight of him makes me want to puke, not because I don't want to see him, but because he's now here in Dema with.

Although, they're not treating him how they treat me. That makes me want to puke even more, I really wish that I could right now too.

Instead I'm left with a knot tangled in with my stomach. I'm brought back to reality when a firm but comforting grip is on my shoulder.

"I'll be back, do you need anything?" The woman asks me, do I need anything? Yeah, to get out of here, but I can't tell her that.

Not verbally at least, right?

I shake my head and look at the untouched pen and note pad from where she was sitting, "Can I write something down?"

At first she seems hesitant, but nods anyway and leaves the room. I slide the pen and notepad toward me, quickly writing something down.

Then I place it back where it was, hoping she would see what I wrote. Now it's just me and my mind that I can't stand anymore.

Not that I ever liked my mind to begin with, but now I hate it.

To try and drown out the thought of my mind I scrape at my fingertips, except it doesn't distract me enough.

I go back to looking at the window with the empty room on the other side of the glass, I'm proven wrong with the words empty room.

Josh sits at the table, but he sits in the chair that be across from me. I'm able to see his face clearly from this view as he reads something.

I can't make out what it is though.

The door opens and then shuts again, then the woman takes a seat, practically next to Josh, I wonder if she even noticed him. Unless she's too focused on me to know.

"What's the point of this?" I ask, my gaze still fixated on Josh, who hasn't noticed me somehow. Then again, it could be a one sided window.

The woman sighs "It's a check up, to see how you're doing," she tells me, I scoff. A little louder than I anticipated it "Check up on me," I mumble.

"I was told–" she begins, but interrupt her, because I already know what she's going to say. "You're just trying to use me for–" but then I'm cut off.

"Clancy, I was told you've been hurting yourself," she says.

What? That's not true.

I don't say anything, not because I don't want to, but because I don't know what to say to that. It's not true.

But underneath my fingernails say differently, now I really am going to puke. "Do you know how long this has been going of for?"

Of course not, I shake my head. "I've been told it's been going on for a couple months, and that each time you have no memory of doing so."

Months? That can't be right, she's lying.

"First it started out as clenching your arm, which lead to your fingernails digging into your skin," she tells me.

"Then hair pulling, which also leads to your nails digging into your scalp," she finishes, I'm still silent as I try to process all that I've been told.

It explains a lot unfortunately, as much as I wished that she was wrong.

She stays quiet for a moment before speaking again "I've been told that you have been experiencing paranoia too."

Paranoia? That's what they're calling it now?

"It's not, they're twisting their words to make seem that way. Sure, I've tried running, I've lashed out, but do you want to know why?"

The woman nods, I lean forward in my seat, whispering to her "They're making me do this, and when I don't comply they do something about it," I tell her.

I stay quiet for a moment, looking down "I don't want to live like this" I say quietly.

Before I was brought back, I was convinced that Trench would be the place that I lay to die, not Dema. And never did I once wish death upon myself, not until now.

There's then a silence in the room that I can't stand, she then reads what I wrote on the notepad, glancing at me for a moment before writing something down on the next page page.

She then rips the page out that she's written in and folds it in half, putting it aside "I just want to go home."

"You are home, Clancy."

And then realize she's just another brainwashed citizen like the rest of them, you are home, I'm not home. My home is outside of the city walls, not here.

I stand up from my seat, hoping that for once someone is outside of this door. Which there happens to be when I open the door, I'm told that I was supposed to wait, but I get let off the hook this one time.

Later on I'm brought to the stage, I can't help but think about earlier. Which bothers me nonstop.

I'm nearing the end of my performance for tonight and I only have two songs left, I catch myself spacing out in between songs, not on purpose for once.

And when I near the end of the last song, I sink down to my knees, waiting for the lyrics to be queued in my mind.

I stay there for a moment, and then I scream the last lyric as long as I can, it feels as if my vocal cords begin to strain.

But I don't stop, not until it feels like all of the oxygen is out of my lungs. And when there's no air left, I try to catch my breath, but my throat feels as if it's closed up.

Chapter 8: "Nobody's coming for me, coming for me"

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

They're not happy about the stunt I pulled a few days ago, my vocal cords are now strained, which means I can't perform.

It's not like I'm disappointed about it though. I was told that I was lucky that they'd heal, scream any longer and I would have lost my voice permanently.

As I lay in bed, I stare up at the ceiling mindlessly. My throat feels swollen from the inside and out, jeez, I wonder why.

When I let my mind finally wander, I think of Trench, how it's scenery is colorful – but not over saturated like with what I've been dealing with.

Which then makes me think about the Banditos and how they live out there, usually setting up camp for the night and wandering to the next spot that seems decent to stay at for a few days.

Or Josh, I'm sure if weren't here we'd be out there wandering off camp just talking until our minds go blank, then maybe he'd take me to the nearest flower field and we'd lay down gazing up at the sky.

It can only be a fantasy at this point, there's no way I'll ever even see the light of day that isn't through a window.

If I'm lucky that I'll ever be able to look out of a window again.

I sigh in frustration, running my fingers through my hair as I toss and turn. Finally I settle on sitting up, my back leaned against the wall as I stare into the darkness of the room.

It scares me slightly, because sometimes I feel like I'm not the only one in here at night. Maybe it's just my mind getting the best of me, which it always does now a days.

My time off from performing was cut short, my vocal cords aren't healed completely, but they're making me perform either way.

I refuse though, not because I'm scared of permanently damaging my vocal cords. But because I'm sick of this, I'm sick of being their muse to do whatever they want.

Although I know what'll happen, it doesn't change the fact that I still trying to make a run for it. I head to the nearest door, this time it's locked.

So I try from door after door, all of them are locked. Have I really tried to make a run for it that many times?

It isn't long before I'm pryed away from the door, hands gripping tightly onto my arms until I'm down on the ground.

It's a fight I usually lose, there's only been one time where I almost won. I was able to push them away, I so close to getting up.

Though, it meant more than two people held me down, if anything it was three. Possibly four.

Something about this time is different though, I'm not face down on the floor. Instead I can see their faces, my face is grabbed by a third person.

Forcing my jaw open as their fingers press into my cheeks, unable to close my mouth. Something is then popped into my mouth, when I try spitting it out my jaw is then forced closed.

I'm unable to open my mouth let alone spit it whatever it is out, eventually, whatever it is dissolves on my tongue. Leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

Then I'm let go, I gag at the taste, coughing dryly as my jaw goes slack momentarily. I'm forced up onto my feet and led to a door, when the door is opened it's nothing special.

It's just a supply closet, but I'm pushed in and suddenly I hear the door lock. I still try my luck with turning the knob, it doesn't budge.

I bang on the door, the small space leaving me in pitch black. "Let me out!" My voice rasps as I try yelling, panic and anxiety rise in my chest, my breathing becoming ragged.

Being locked up in the room is one thing, but a supply closet with little to no space scares me for some reason.

I try to calm my breathing, my hand gripping the front of my shirt as I crumple to the floor, my knees to my chest.

That's how far they'll go, everything I do to try and calm myself down only makes my panic stare worse.

By now I'm hyperventilating, and the air in the small space feels like it's running out. Tears form at the corners of my eyes, I feel like I'm dying, but I know I'm not.

I'm just so, so panicked.

After ten minutes I'm let out and led to stage, those ten minutes were the longest ten minutes imaginable though.

I sit on the couch, this stupid couch where Lisden and Sacarver by each side of me. I stare blankly at the beige colored carpet underneath my feet, which is the only non saturated thing in sight.

The rest is just a blur, dissociating for a majority of it at that point.

I'm not sedated, but something about the pills makes sure I listen and obey like some kind of dog.

Although depending on the days these past few weeks, I've still managed to lash out. Last thing I remember seeing before everything blacked out was Josh.

While pinned down to the floor, Josh and I made eye contact, even if my vision was blurry. But I could still make out the disappointment and sadness in his face.

I know he wasn't disappointed in me, he would never. But it felt like it at that moment.

Now, I sit in the room on the floor with my hands entangled in my hair and my head down.

And for once my mind feels blank, not a single thought forms. Not even negative ones, it's just... blank.

My hands detach from my hair, falling to my sides as I lean my head against the wall. I do know I'm losing hope in things again, even with Josh here.

He hasn't said a word to me, not that we've even had a chance to even say a word to each other.

Sometimes I wonder how they're treating Josh, if they're treating him like how they treat me, he seemed surprised though at what happened.

Maybe he wasn't expecting me to be treated so poorly.

Notes:

Poor Clancy, man.

Chapter 9: "So good to see you"

Notes:

Btw, as many times as I look over my chapters for typos/etc I still manage to miss a bunch. so if you mange to catch them please let me know so I can fix it

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

I'm happy.

Right?

At least, that's what I'm told. They don't know I'm just pretending, even though that's what I should have been doing this whole time.

Let me rephrase that, they haven't had to shove pills down my throat in a while. And by in while I mean.. never mind, I don't even know how long it's been anymore.

I've lost track of time, last I knew it was three years, but I stopped thinking about time after I found out Josh was captured as well.

We have yet to say anything to each other, even with my "good behavior". As if it'll even mean anything to them, which I don't care either.

I'm doing what they want, so that should be good enough for them.

The one thing I am glad about is that they've given me a journal to write in, they suggested more for song writing.

Even though I've got a separate journal for that.

And currently I sit in my room, sitting on the bed with the journal in my lap as I write. I don't know why, but I've been writing letters for Josh.

I somehow plan on giving them to him, even though every time we're on stage we're never near one another.

𝓣𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓱,

𝓦𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓾𝓽, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓿𝓮 𝓴𝓮𝓹𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓯𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭. 𝓗𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷.

𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓽 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰.

𝓘'𝓶 𝓼𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓽 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓻.

— 𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬𝔂

For now, I will keep the letter in the journal. Then I slip it underneath my pillow and stand up. The door unlocks and I sigh quietly.

My arm is grabbed and I'm led where I need to, like usual. Which is the stage, set, whatever you want to call it at this point.

Except, I'm handed a pill, those damn pills. I stare at it, then look up at the man in front of me. Waiting for me to take it, something makes me glance behind the man.

Standing with the crew, Nico observes, watching me. I can feel his eyes picking me apart from over here, I hate it.

I take it, hide it and pretend to swallow. When I glance over again, Nico seems to be talking to Sacarver.

That scares me, because what if he's lying about how I've been? My arm is then grabbed and I'm taken to the stupid supply closet, I don't try to struggle or run.

"I haven't done anything–" but the door is shut in my face, the lock making a clicking sound. I sigh, sitting on the floor while I lean over, spitting the pill out.

Making a disgusted face in the process, for once I feel calm. And maybe it's because I can write my feelings down or write to Josh.

Unfortunately it doesn't change the fact that even though I'm calm, I'm still afraid of what's in the dark.

I know what's there, but my mind makes me exaggerate things that wouldn't really be there.

Time passes quicker than it usually does when I'm in here, I stand up when I hear footsteps, the opens and I'm brought out.

But instead of going on set, I'm told that Nico wants to see me. For just a moment, I'm convinced I feel my heart stop.

I walk over where he still stands as he was minutes ago, quietly, I stand in front of him. Waiting for him to speak.

My heart feels like it's going to beat through my chest, he tells me that I'm going on a ship to perform for a special group of people.

Which makes me ponder the question, by a special group of people, does he mean people similar to the bishops?

Tomorrow I leave to go out on sea, I'm nervous though. I've never been out on sea, let alone know what's out there.

When I'm brought back to my room, I see that the journal is opened and placed in the middle of the bed.

I don't realize that I've stopped in the doorway until I'm shoved inside, the door locking behind me.

As I sit on my knees right beside the bed I begin to flip through the pages of the journal, the pages I've written letters in now ripped out.

Out of frustration, I shut the journal and throw it across the room. Watching as it hits the wall and falls onto the floor.

Now I know what Nico and Sacarver were talking about.

How could I be such a fool to do something like that?

I've gotten ready for today, the outfit I wear matches a little too much. Over it I wear a black coat that stops just before my ankles.

It's cold out I was told.

Currently, I'm being escorted out, but after an awkwardly silent journey to the boat I walk across the dock. Then met with nine people who all wear red hoodies and a face covering.

I can tell they're trying to portray the bishops, but I don't say anything about it.

When ready for boarding, I'm guided onto the ship. Then I'm told that the people I'm supposed to perform for are in the lower deck, and once we set off I'll go down.

As the crew sets up, I wait on the upper deck with my hands in the pockets of this excessively large coat and leaned up against the railing.

No sooner than do they finish, were off to sea. As I walk down to the lower deck, I take the coat off and set it aside.

The interior isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, it's colorful, but not over the top. There's colors such as pink, yellow, and baby blue.

There's also a circular window right where I need to be, I make my way through the crowded area, getting where I need to be now.

As I perform, lights flash from the ceiling, the people in the crowd are now dancing. They're nothing like the people I've dealt with in Dema.

Certainly not the crew, or bystanders I've dealt with. They must be clueless about my situation, which at this rate is whatever.

Whether they know of it or not, I won't get help escaping.

To my left is Josh, he's too busy playing his instrument to try and acknowledge me, even though I'm busy too.

There's then a low rumbling sound, which makes me turn around momentarily, something swimming past the window.

I don't think much of it, going back to what I was doing before. Until it happens again, which makes everyone in the lower deck go quiet as the lights flicker.

Again I made sure to observe the window, whatever had swam past the boat now coming right for it.

The window's glass getting blown right through, it makes us all duck for just a brief moment. Water begins to flood through, our feet quickly soaked.

Now we're all neck and neck with the waters flowing through, every single one of us getting as much air as possible before we're completely submerged.

As I hold my breath, I watch as Josh swims through the opening of the window. I follow alongside him, I'm free, we're free.

We eventually swim up to the surface, both of us gasping for air. Around us are a majority

of the people who were once dancing.

And around us is nothing but a large body of water that goes out for miles.

Chapter 10: "Or am I on the outside?"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

The last thing I remember was escaping the boat because water burst through, after that I don't remember much.

What I do know is that I feel cold and I've washed up on land. Weakly, I crawl away from the waves of water that wash up on me.

Then I lay back, my body giving out half way. I stare up at the sky, it's not as gloomy as Dema's skies.

It looks as if it'll be dark soon.

My body quivers as the waves come up from underneath me, when I look to my left I see Josh, a torch in hand and coming in my direction.

He helps me up as I try to keep my balance on my feet. Then he turns around, wandering off into one direction.

I try to keep up with him, catching myself from falling forward a few times. The air here is cold and crisp.

Which feels so unfamiliar to me. This island is unfamiliar to me.

Josh leads us toward some trees, a cold breeze puts out the torch in his hand. He drops the once lit torch and turns the corner, almost making a run for it.

I round the corner, seeing that he's stopped and staring at something. When I catch up to see what it is, it looks as if sticks and branches were loomed into a circular shape with a squared frame.

He glances over at me for a brief moment, then looks in the other direction, walking ahead of me.

Once again, I follow him, as we pass through sad and small looking trees, we continue to see these odd crafts of shapes out of branches, some hang in the trees as well.

It's past dusk, but it's still light out. The sky a dark blue as clouds gather around.

We come upon a hill, past it is a wall of jagged rock made up into a mountain, but as we approach it closer we see that it's a cave.

Something in the entryway of it stares at us, observing us. Neither of us can make out what it is exactly.

It's some sort of creature I've never seen before, it then disappears into the cave, Josh and I look at each other for a moment.

Before we enter, two handmade baskets with each of our names on them wait in the entrance.

I pick mine up, opening it to see supplies in it, warmer clothes and food. I look at Josh, who's giving me a look of we should go in.

Without a doubt, the clothes given to us by the creature are much warmer, though my fingers are still freezing.

With a new torch in hand, Josh and I each hold one to guide our way through this narrow cave. And so far, there's no sign of the creature.

Eventually we come up on a more spaced out area of the cave. Gathered around a fire are more of those little creatures, one of them comes up to me, handing me a small bowl.

Then the small creature sits down with the others around the fire that crackles, the flames flickering.

I go over and sit with them while setting the torch in my hand into the fire, the small bowl in my hands, I bring it to my lips and take a small sip. It's warmth warming my body up, it's nice.

Josh is nowhere to be seen, maybe he found a different group of these creatures in the cave. I pass the bowl to the creature next to me, looking around the lit area.

When I look over to my left I see one of the creatures walking away and out to an opening of the cave, something makes me follow it, curiosity maybe.

I look up at the sky as snow begins to fall. Then I look in front of me, the creature only a few feet away from me.

He's the only one I've seen with antlers and it makes me wonder why, I walk over to him and he turns around, his antlers in hand.

I kneel down in front of him as he holds them out for me to take, then I stand up while observing them.

When I look at the creature, he suddenly disappears. Weird. I look around me, more of these creatures observing me.

They raise their hands, covering their eyes as they look up. Is that what I'm supposed to do with these antlers?

I sigh, slowly raising the antlers above my head.

I've been given the ability to seize, which only the bishops can do. Or so I thought at least.

It was rumored to be an ancient ability that one could hold, but why was it given to me specifically?

Josh and I have gone far beyond the cave by now, it's dark, the only thing that lights the way is the torches in our hands.

We stand at the edge of the island as we notice multiple little lights on the other side, possibly the Banditos, right?

Josh and I glance at each other without a word, then we look out to the other side as we raise our torches higher.

Our flames flicker and crack by the minute, we don't move, at least not right now. But I do know this, we're going to find a way over there.

Even if it takes all night or a few days, we'll get over there no matter what. Even if there's a possibility of putting ourselves in danger.

So, in case that does happen, cover me.

Chapter 11: "Pardon my delay, I'm navigating"

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

Josh and I have gotten to the other side of the island, then not long after we arrive, we're then met with three of the Banditos.

Although it's been a while, I recognize them. And they recognize me, they show no emotion to it, but their eyes say otherwise.

They turn around and begin walking, I look back at Josh, who gives me a slight nod. We begin to follow behind them, the breeze guiding us in the direction they're going in.

At this point, I've forgotten about the antlers in my hand somehow.

All night I held them, worried something might happen. But thankfully nothing did, Josh and I ended up finding a small boat, it's like it was just abandoned at the spot we found it at.

It felt odd, almost like a set up, a trap even. Though we made sure to look around, it ended up only being us. Which means that maybe someone was on that tiny island before us.

Right?

I would think so, it explains why those creatures didn't have antlers, only small nubs on top of their head. All except for one at least.

The Banditos that found us haven't said a word, neither has Josh. Which is odd for him, but I can't really say anything.

I haven't said a word either, not since my last performance.

Which honestly, I don't mind, even before leaving Dema for the first time I barely spoke. All I would do is put them all on paper, that's how I spoke.

The sun has reached higher in the sky by now, which is quick. It's not as cold, but it's still is. I am at least.

Nobody else seems to notice the temperature change or let alone complain about it.

We come upon a steep area, the Banditos seem to just walk through like they've done this a million times before. Josh walks ahead of me and turns around, holding his hand out for me.

I grab his hand and he helps me up, not letting go for a brief moment. Then he turns back around and continues walking, I really missed him.

As we walk I look around at the landscape, it's not as pretty as what I've seen of Trench so far. But the sights are durable, there's small and scattered lakes so far along with more of those sad and slim looking trees.

Only this time they're scattered, not all of them are sad looking though, only a few that I've seen since we've been out here.

It's gotten later, but not by much.

The sky is a faint tint of orange and the sun has moved, not being as high up. Finally, we take a break. I'm not sure for how long though.

But for the meantime I sit on a tree trunk that looks like it's been there for a while, I stare out into the distance and let my thoughts run through.

How is everybody going to react?

Maybe I'm just overthinking it.

But still, how are they going to react to me coming back? Do they know it's Josh and I? I mean, they must know. It's the three Banditos found us.

Unless they came across on us by accident and just so happen to realize Josh and I were there, I don't know. Thinking about it hurts my head, I could just ask them, but I already know that I won't.

There's no point in wondering in these kinds of questions if you're not going to ask them.

I sigh softly when I come back to reality, looking at the ground. Josh walks over to me, holding his hand out for me to grab, and do I do.

Again, he helps me stand up. Walking beside me momentarily as we begin to follow the Banditos again, and by now the sun has gotten slightly lower in the sky.

The orange color a shade darker.

I follow behind Josh, like I have been this whole time. Just staring at the ground quietly, no reason as to why. It just happens to be where my eyes locked on.

What if I'm found again? Then what? What scares me the most is what the council might do to me, they did horrible things just in the span of those years I was stuck there.

I don't even want to think about what would happen to me if I was captured.

No.

They killed Keons, if anything they'd probably do the same thing with me. They'd probably hide it and pretend as if I never existed, like I just vanished off the face of the earth.

Or for all I know, I could just become a lifeless for them to use for days on end. That's what scares me the most, my corpse used as a prop for their amusement like the others they've seized before.

It's disgusting and horrifying.

I stop when we come upon a fallen tree stump, it was an older tree, maybe. You can tell by how long the stump it, it's big enough to be used as a narrow-ish bridge for you to walk on.

And it's exactly what we do, carefully Josh and I stand on it. Then we carefully walk across it as we make sure to balance ourselves, our arms out for support.

It's gotten darker not, the sun barely peers from the horizon. It might as well be night by now, which I consider it to be.

The smell of burning wood and smoke fill the air, we must be near. As I grow impatient, I start walking beside Josh, who now walks with the Banditos.

Through the branches I can see the campfire they've prepped, I missed that smell.

We get through the trees and I stop, then Josh stops beside me.

Ahead of us, someone faces out direction. As if they came from the opposite end of trees compared to us. They hold a torch in hand, I can't make out their face though.

All I can see are their eyes, and from this distance I can barely make out their eyes. Then they pull the bandana down, revealing their whole face and–

...

For a moment I hesitate, trying to process who I'm seeing right now. Because who I'm seeing can't be there, right? I look at Josh, except he's not there anymore.

No longer by my side, but instead in front of me. Slowly I look at him, and he looks at me. Then without hesitation I begin walking towards him.

He does the same, then we eventually meet in the middle. I stare for a brief moment, because suddenly everything is so confusing again.

He was with me, right?

In Dema, out on sea, the island, and here. Right?

I look down as he then holds something out for me, carefully I take it. Looking at what's now in my hands, it's a mask, I don't understand.

Then I look up at Josh, "We have to stop them, Clancy," is the first thing he says to me.

And all I can do is stay silent at his response.

Chapter 12: "Would you please, please, hurry?"

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

— 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

Dema this whole time was a rude reality awakening, or maybe, this whole time I was just losing my mind in solitude.

Between being the picture perfect star performer of Dema and being alone on that island they call Voldsøy, it deteriorated my mind bit by bit.

For six years, I was alone. Six years I thought I had my best friend, six years I was mocked, in the beginning I knew Josh wasn't there. After that though?

....

S̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶o̶l̶d̶ m̶e̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶, m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ f̶o̶r̶ m̶y̶ o̶w̶n̶ s̶a̶n̶i̶t̶y̶?

The only thing I could actually call home wasn't there with me, the banditos, the colored atmosphere, and Josh. Nothing was there for me to hold onto for support.

For a life line if I didn't make it, let alone make it out of there again. But I did, and now I need to willingly go back there to stop the Bishops.

Is he insane? Am I insane?

Either way, I can't go back. Not after I just escaped.

As I stare at him, the heat from the bonfire radiates off the skin on my face, it's warm. Too warm for my comfort.

The Banditos surround us, aware of my return by now. Waiting for me.

"I can't keep doing this," I deadpanned, "Why can't you understand that?" I ask. "First you rescue me from there when you saw me for the first time, and now, you and your people want me back there willingly?" My voice breaks.

Before he can get the chance to say something, I keep going. "Do you know how long I waited? How long I waited for a sign or– or just something from you?"

His expression quickly changes into a sympathetic one, "I begged everyday for four years for them to just take my soul, something for them to put me out of my misery."

"Clanc–"

"They hollowed me out, and sewed me back up with hate. And you expect me to go back there after I escaped?" I ask rhetorically.

"I felt like I was nothing, run down, a waste of space. I was sedated when I'd lash out, starved when I didn't write, pills shoved down my throat when I talked back or even breathed wrong."

By now, tears fill my eyes and I can barely say anything with the sob I'm trying so hard to hold down.

I don't hate him for what he didn't do, but I feel like I do at the same time. He takes a step closer, but I've already taken a step back from him.

"Even if I did try and stop them, I should be the last person that you ask." I tell him, "I'm ruined, the person you knew six years ago isn't there anymore," my chest aches, I don't mean it.

I barely know how to deal with my emotions now, everything I say, I don't mean. I promise.

By now, I expected him to hate me for what I've said. I've expected him and the Banditos to leave me behind at this point, they haven't though and I don't know why.

Instead Josh hugs me, and as angry as I am right now I can't help but melt into his arms. My hands find their way to the back of his hoodie, gripping the material tightly.

I just want to make sure it's him and not a projection from my mind, I want to make sure that he's real.

"I'm sorry," I hear him whisper. What have I done? I can't help but shake my head "No, don't say that. I'm sorry." I'm now clenching the material harder.

My knuckles white, like he's going to have to tear me off of him. He doesn't though, he clings to me just as much as I am right now.

"Torch–" a voice calls out, I feel his arms peel away from my back. I turn my head as he tries gesturing the person away.

When I look it's somebody who I've met before, somebody who I thought I could count on, but now I don't know.

"Jenna?" I look at her, her face covering in hand, her hair is messy as if she just pulled it off. She stays silent as she stares at me like someone who's come back from the dead.

Then I look at Josh, a look of guilt on his face as he glances back at Jenna and I. As if the night can get any worse, I step back from him as he tries to reach out for me.

"So you.." I try not to stumble over my words while processing this now. "Instead of trying to come for me you sent somebody in for you?" I finished.

"Clancy, we tried. We really did, but it was too risky for all of us to go in there again," Jenna says, I turn to her and shake my head.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" I ask, "They had eyes everywhere, especially on you, I volunteered to go in to see if I could get you out, but I was almost caught."

How do I believe they're telling the truth? "You guys are just like them," I whisper, then I look at Josh. "Keon's, a bishop, helped me escape."

Everything is too much, it feels as if the world around me is crumbling down on itself. I can hear Josh trying to tell his side of the story.

But I don't really listen, instead my second thoughts block it out. And I can't help but drop the mask and antlers on the ground.

Turn around on my heels and walk away, I don't know where, I just do. I know Josh and Jenna are calling for me, because why wouldn't they?

Eventually I've found my way to a lake, I sit on the ground with my arms hugging my knees to my chest as I stare at the reflection of the moon off of the water.

It's dark and I'm cold. But I can't bare to look at Josh after earlier, maybe I'm in the wrong. Even then, I can't tell what's right or wrong anymore.

I sigh shakily, a shiver travels down my spine as I hug my knees tighter. There's then twigs and branches that snap from behind me, I don't move, I might've even stopped breathing for a moment too.

Then the gravel beside me crunches beneath shoes, then a sigh. I can tell it's Josh, he's quiet. He doesn't say anything, just sits with me as he stares at whatever it is he decides to stare at.

I can tell he's waiting for one of us to make the first move, I certainly don't though, so instead he takes it upon himself.

"If it meant getting you out sooner, I would have risked my life for you," he tells me, my heart aches at his words. "I was a coward, and I know that apologizing isn't going to fix what happened to you or change your mind."

What have I done?

"But it won't stop me from loving you," he says, the last part a little quieter. Slowly, I turn to look at him, my arms loosening up a little around me. Does he mean it, does he really love me?

Even after I've been broken into pieces a hundred times or more?

Very faintly, I smile. He seems to notice which makes him smile as well, I scoot closer to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

He lays his head on mine as we both sit in silence, the only thing filling the air is a cricket chirping.

It's a noise I don't mind, it's not my favorite, but it's tolerable. I rest my hands on my knees, Josh almost immediately laying his hand on top of mine.

"After.. this whole thing," Josh pauses, "What do you want to do?" He asks, his voice is soft. I think about it, laying my other hand on his "See what's beyond Trench?" I lift my head up, which makes him do the same.

It takes him a moment but he nods while smiling "We can do that," he tells me.

I nod, staying quiet now.

For a while we sit together in silence, wondering when that cricket will stop chirping.

"We should get back to camp soon," Josh tells me softly, I nod as he stands up, holding his hand out for me. Which I grab and he helps me up.

He begins to walk back as I follow behind him, it's hard to make out what's what in the dark, but you eventually get used to it and find your way around it.

Before I knew it we were back at camp, the Banditos are already asleep, so now it's just Josh and I. "I've set up a tent for you," Josh tells me quietly.

I nod, but before he can walk to his tent, I grab his hand. Then I make the mistake of looking at my hand, which makes me sick to my stomach.

"Yeah?" He looks at me, I don't say anything though, instead I embrace him tightly. My face nuzzling against his neck.

My nose brushes against his skin, which is warm just like the fire, comforting and sweet. He hugs back just as tight, keeping his arms around me a moment longer than he probably intended.

When he lets go, he smiles, just barely. Then we head our separate ways to our tents.

It's been awhile since Josh and I last talked, by now he's probably asleep. The lantern in my tent dimly lights the small space, enough light for me to stare down at my shaky hands.

They're discolored, like a light shadow covers them, same goes for my neck.

I don't know if Josh even noticed it, I hope not, I can't bare to trauma dump onto him again. Let alone to myself, it's something buried deep in the depths of my brain.

But if it gets worse, I'm going to have to tell him.

I exhale, not realizing I had even been holding my breath. Finally I dim the lantern, but don't turn it off, then I lay down, trying my hardest to fall asleep.

Nothing works, so I step out from my tent, quietly walking to Josh's. I see that he has his lantern on, dimly though. So I then wonder if he's awake.

"Josh?" I whisper, there's no reply. Just as I'm about to turn around he peeks his head out and looks up at me.

"Hey, you ok?" He asks quietly, I pull my sleeves down to cover as much of my hands as possible without making it obvious.

Honestly, I shake my head, without questioning he insists that I come in. So I do, we both sit across from each other, the lantern now slightly brighter.

I'm kinda glad that the overcoat I wear covers my neck and a majority of my hands, leaving only my fingers to peak out.

Josh stays silent, I can tell that he's being careful with me. I don't deserve him, same goes for him, he shouldn't have to go through this with me.

Yet, he chooses to stay.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" He asks softly, do I want to talk about it? Do I even have the strength to right now, I don't.

But maybe the weight will be lifted somewhat from my shoulders if I do, slowly I nod.

I'm convinced that he can hear my heart pounding in my chest with how loud it thumps against my rib cage.

My lips begin to part as I try to think of a way to make what I'm about to say not as horrifying as it is, "There's something else I didn't tell you," I start.

He nods, listening as I speak, "And.. I, myself, don't really know the details or what really happened. There's just bits and pieces of the memories."

For a moment I stop, and I can tell Josh is preparing himself for whatever I'm about to say.

"I remember the very few times I was sedated I could hear them talking to me as if I were conscious, and maybe I was, I-I don't remember.." I begin to trail off.

Staring down at the sleeves that cover my hands, I clench my fists, exhaling slowly. "Keons was never a part of it, I know that," my voice trembles slightly.

"And maybe I deserved what they did to me, maybe I didn't. But I'd get smeared as if I was one of them, they knew exactly what they were doing when they did it. Then Keon's death?"

Finally, I look at Josh, it's then that I've realized my eyes have welded up with tears. I don't expect Josh to say much, because what exactly is he supposed to tell me?

It's ok, because even he knows it's not ok and I can tell by his expression.

Deep down, I can feel myself wanting to shut down. Then once I've realized that feeling, it's all I want to do now.

"How was I so stupid to not realize that," I mumble to myself, I know Josh heard, of course he did. "Come here," he suddenly tells me. I sit closer to him — next to him is more accurate.

Then he wraps his arms around me, tightly, it's comforting and warm. If only he didn't have to let go, I wouldn't mind it if he didn't. If we ended up in some kind of curse where we stuck in each other's arms, I wouldn't mind.

He squeezes the upper part of my arm, just near my shoulder. It makes me feel something though, something that I know he didn't mean to do, because he doesn't know.

Or maybe he does and he just hasn't said anything about it.

I feel myself pull away from his grip, I'm thinner than I was before and I hate it. I look sick and I'm always cold nowadays, I feel miserable and I hate it as well.

He seems to notice something is wrong, which makes him frown "I didn't m–" I cut him off before he can finish, "It's not your fault, just.." I find myself trailing off, my fingernails digging into my arms through the fabric.

But I stop, I stopped.

I lean back into him, his arms wrapping around me almost immediately this time.

"Is it ok if I sleep here with you?"

"Do you wanna sleep with me tonight?"

We both blurts our questions at the same time, I feel myself smile a little. And I know that if I look at him that he's probably smiling too.

We lay down, then I watch as Josh reaches to turn the lantern off but I stop him "Can you leave it on," I ask "please?" I look at him.

He looks at me and nods "I'm just gonna dim it, alright?" He says without asking questions as to why I want it left on, I mean he probably does know – but at least he won't ask why.

The lantern is dimmed and he looks back at me, his fingers running through my hair. It almost feels as if I don't deserve this, like I don't deserve to have his fingers running through my hair as comfort.

Then again, do I deserve anything at all?

I don't realize that I've scoot closer to him until I realize my head is now laying on his chest, my hand gripping the fabric of his hoodie, not tightly this time, enough to give me confidence that he's really here.

His fingers still comb through my hair while his other hand wraps around me "I'm not going anywhere this time, ok?" He reassures me softly, I nod, my eyes feeling heavy.

I close my eyes while he continues what he does.

"Clance,"

"I'm sorry, please."

"Clancy you're ok, you're home,"

"Let go–"

"Clancy, it's ok. It's just a dream,"

"No!" It feels as if my hands are restrained, I can't move them. I open my eyes, sitting up in fear while yanking my hands away. I can feel my hands tremble, my breathing uneasy.

"Clancy you're alright, it's just us," I hear Josh's voice, I can't breathe. "Take a deep breath," he grips my hands firmly.

But I shake my head, it feels as if my hands tremble more "I can't I've tried before it–" I try to catch my breath, feeling myself tear up.

I feel pathetic, it's disgusting.

"–it doesn't help," I choke out. He cups my face, looking me in the eyes "Try it with me, alright?" He says, I nod, doing as he does for a few minutes.

Staying quiet I look down, what's wrong with me? I know I'm not there anymore, but my mind and body act as if I still am. I hate it, I hate it.

"You ok for now?" Josh asks quietly, hesitantly I nod "I think so.." I trail off, reaching for his hands, holding onto them tightly.

I know he's here, I just can't help but make sure.

After a few moments of silence we lay back down, my head back on his chest, his arm around me while he combs through my hair again. Only this time our legs are tangled with one another.

It's going to be a long night.

Notes:

My heart aches for traumatized Clancy

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Lunar_Prophecies, thisdesksetwantstofly, Leno_21, paymytherapy, PrayForTheDevlin, Graytile_Writes, number5_is_a_bottom, and curlytessie as well as 4 guests left kudos on this work!

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number5_is_a_bottom on Chapter 1 Sun 28 Sep 2025 08:38PM UTC

Ave Im gonna eat your writing, I love this sm 🫶🏼

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1. AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 1 Mon 29 Sep 2025 02:50AM UTC
  
  Hehe thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻
  
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Graytile_Writes on Chapter 7 Wed 08 Oct 2025 04:56PM UTC

I love this so far keep it up!! I saw this fic from your tiktok this is really well done!

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1. AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 7 Thu 09 Oct 2025 01:47AM UTC
  
  Ahh thank you, that means a lot :))
  
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Leno_21 on Chapter 8 Mon 13 Oct 2025 12:37PM UTC

man clancy makes me so sad poor clancy but fr your writing is so good you captured his feeling too well i am excited for what comes next

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1. AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 8 Mon 13 Oct 2025 03:25PM UTC
  
  Ahh thank you, that means sm. And I'm glad you're enjoying this so far :)
  
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Leno_21 on Chapter 9 Mon 13 Oct 2025 12:50PM UTC

OMG I CANT WAIIITTT

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Lunar_Prophecies on Chapter 12 Sun 26 Oct 2025 12:40AM UTC

yum yum I'm consuming this!

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Work Header

Cover me

AverySimpinFor5

Summary:

Chapter 1: “Can you save my”

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Chapter 2: "Cover me!"

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Chapter 3: “We'll win but not everyone will get out”

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Chapter 4: "Welcome to Trench"

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Chapter 5: "Good day in Dema"

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Chapter 6: "They're trying hard to weaponize you and I"

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Chapter 7: "Manifest a ceiling"

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Chapter 8: "Nobody's coming for me, coming for me"

Notes:

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Notes:

Chapter 9: "So good to see you"

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Chapter 10: "Or am I on the outside?"

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Chapter 11: "Pardon my delay, I'm navigating"

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Chapter 12: "Would you please, please, hurry?"

Notes:

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Notes:

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number5_is_a_bottom on Chapter 1 Sun 28 Sep 2025 08:38PM UTC

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AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 1 Mon 29 Sep 2025 02:50AM UTC

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Graytile_Writes on Chapter 7 Wed 08 Oct 2025 04:56PM UTC

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AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 7 Thu 09 Oct 2025 01:47AM UTC

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Leno_21 on Chapter 8 Mon 13 Oct 2025 12:37PM UTC

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AverySimpinFor5 on Chapter 8 Mon 13 Oct 2025 03:25PM UTC

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Leno_21 on Chapter 9 Mon 13 Oct 2025 12:50PM UTC

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Lunar_Prophecies on Chapter 12 Sun 26 Oct 2025 12:40AM UTC

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