Chapter Text
Zayne used to hate his dreams. No, his nightmares. Every time he woke up in the body of his doppelganger he wanted to throw up. He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't a monster. Why was he being tormented like this? He'd never become like Dawnbreaker.
But now, he yearned for those dreams. Because at least she was there. Why did she get to live in a world that was already dying instead of his own? Each time he dreamed of Dawnbreaker, Zayne got to see Scooter. She was alive, happy, every bit as much of a gremlin as he remembered. Yes, he loved to dream now. Because his child was alive in his dreams.
Scooter sprinted down an alley, running from a wanderer that had once been her sister. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran, blood rushing through her ears. The wanderer shrieked and clawed at Scooter. She squeezed sideways through a tight space between two buildings, rushing to the other side. She didn’t want to die. Scooter pulled herself from the alley and ran through the streets. The police hadn’t arrived yet, nor had any Hunters. She was on her own.
“Ah!” Scooter screamed as claws raked across her back. Her body tumbled to the ground, the cement scraping her palms. “Raine, please! It’s me, Scooter!” She rolled over as the wanderer loomed over her, claws raised to finish her off. Scooter raised her arms protectively above her head. She was going to die…
The temperature dropped drastically and the wanderer howled in agony. A spike of ice embedded itself into the wanderer’s flesh. Scooter’s eyes widened. A man in all black stood behind the wanderer, green eyes narrowed and arm outstretched. Another jagged ice spike stabbed into the dying wanderer. He calmly watched the wanderer snarl and break down into dust.
Scooter scrambled back, her tears unending. “You’re…you’re the Grim Reaper…” she stammered, heart pounding. “Are you here to kill me. too? Please, I—I don’t want to die!” The young girl hiccuped, trembling. Her clothes were ripped and tattered, blood dripped from the wounds on her back. If they weren’t treated, she’d die to infection before starvation.
The Grim Reaper looked down at her, his eyes softening slightly. “You’re hurt,” he murmured, crouching in front of her. His brows furrowed as recognition flashed through his eyes. He knew her…or at least of her. “Come with me.”
“Wha—huh?” Scooter blinked.
“Did I stutter?” the man raised an eyebrow. “Come with me. I’m not going to kill you, but you’re injured and your blood will just lead the wanderer straight to you. Unless,” He paused, looking around, “you want to be a wanderer’s meal.”
Scooter looked at the man like he grew two heads. No one would willing help an injured child, much less one all alone. Not in the state the world was in. The police barely helped anymore, and people were too scared of the wanderers. She swallowed thickly, standing up on shaky legs. If she was going to die, she might as well die quickly. “…fine,” she muttered, wincing as standing straight pulled at her wounds.
She followed after the Grim Reaper, keeping a pace behind him in case she needed to run. He lead her through winding roads and dark alleys. “So…what's your name? Or do you just go by Grim Reaper?” Scooter asked quietly, hating the silence between them. She’d always hated it when it was too quiet. When her parents were angry, they’d go quiet. Nothing could get them to talk to each other until they were calmed down. Sometimes the silence stretched on for days.
The man didn't respond for a long moment, and Scooter felt that familiar pit of anxiety in her stomach. “My name is Zayne,” the man finally said, not looking back at her.
All the anxiety melted away. “I’m Ka—Scooter. Call me Scooter,” Scooter offered, wincing as she almost slipped up and said her birth name. If Zayne caught her slip up, he didn't show it nor did he question it. “Is this your home?”
Zayne nodded, opening the door with a creak. There wasn't much in the house. It was minimalist and simply with the necessary furniture and a fridge to survive on. Scooter also saw a food printer. On the windowsill was a jasmine flower. Scooter's eyes widened in awe. She hadn't seen any flowers in years. Raine would have loved the flower.
“Sit,” Zayne pointed to the chair by the table in the small kitchen as he grabbed a medical kit. Scooter cautiously sat down, wincing. She eyed Zayne as he stepped behind her. “May I lift the back of your shirt? Your wounds need to be cleaned.”
“…sure,” Scooter nodded.
Zayne carefully lifted the back of her shirt, being mindful of the wounds. Luckily her shirt hadn’t been stuck to the wounds. “This might hurt a little bit,” he warned, dabbing a alcohol soaked cloth over her wounds. Scooter jerked, painfully gritting her teeth. She couldn’t afford to look weak lest she be abandoned or killed. Zayne dutifully cleaned the wounds. “You’ll need a couple stitches before I can bandage them.”
Scooter swallowed thickly, shaking. “I…okay, just…be quick.” She tried not to look over her shoulder at him or the needle he’d need to use. Panic rose in her chest as she tried to ignore the fact there was a needle going into her back. “Please,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. She yelped, cold numbing her back as Zayne used his evol to numb the area.
Zayne was quick in stitching and bandaging her up. He tightened the bandages just enough to stay secure but not be too tight. He was quiet as he focused on treating her. “Do you have any family left?” he asked gently.
Tears welled in her eyes. She thought she didn’t have any tears left to cry. “Not anymore,” she whispered quietly. “That…that wanderer yo—you killed was…she was my sister,” she sniffled, roughly wiping at her eyes. “Our parents died a couple years ago. I…I don’t know what happened. Raine never told me…but I think I know now.”
Zayne frowned, meticulously putting the medical kit back where it was. “Then stay here until your wounds have healed,” he said calmly. “I’ll try to keep them from getting infected.” He glanced at Scooter. “I’ll keep you safe until you’re healthy enough to survive on your own.” He moved to the window, watering the jasmine flower. Scooter swore she saw a faint smile on his face.
Dawnbreaker used to hate his dreams. He hated the fact he could never have what the Doctor had. He’d go to sleep and dream of a life full of happiness. The Linkon in his dreams isn’t a ruined wasteland full of wanderers, it’s a city of bustling life and high potential. The Doctor has the loves of his life, and Dawnbreaker used to hate him for that. He hated he couldn’t have a life partner. He’d often see Scooter with the Doctor.
That is, until one day, she stopped showing up in his dream. The Doctor seemed changed, a little dimmer. Dawnbreaker didn’t know what had happened until one dream showed him a grave. The Doctor’s Scooter was dead.
Dawnbreaker vowed to keep this Scooter alive. It was only right.