Work Text:
I jump again. Again. Again.
Start again. End again. Jump again.
Do it right this time.
Jump again.
As I fall -- through the air, through the water, through everything -- I see my friends scattered across the universe like stars. I see the bright shining spots of their pain as it repeats. It repeats.
Play it again, Micky.
I still hear his voice as it first came to me, quiet and soft and close through a familiar haze of smoke in a familiar dark room.
Play it again, Micky.
In my head, it all plays out on repeat. A constant review. A circle, like everything, like absolutely everything that's ever touched me.
It was all inside this circle.
I jump and it doesn't seem to matter. They jump and the whole word falls with them.
They're the only things I have left.
Someone shoved us into the place where we only have each other. Something is picking us apart one by one.
I'm the first to jump, I'm the one who knows we have to jump.
When I'm falling, I can see it all. I can see that I don't really have them, that they're stuck, alone, far away.
I call out. I cry out. I reach out.
I hit the water first.
It's always so cold. The cold becomes all there is.
The cold is heavy, it drags me down. It makes me heavy, takes me with it.
I sink and sink and I know breathing doesn't matter. Breathing, not breathing, it would mean life and death have meaning.
The illusion of breath will be passed to me only so I can learn again that there is no escape.
I'm running again before I know it. My muscles burn in anaerobic protest. My feet slap against the pavement as fast as they can go. My lungs strain against the effort.
I hesitate. I always hesitate.
This time I look up instead of down. This time the sun turns to a sky full of stars before I'm falling.
This time I reach out.
The sky is closer than it looks tonight.
I hear screaming, splashing, they're moving on without me.
I climb onto the railing, I reach higher.
I've almost got them, I've almost touched the stars.
I go up onto my toes, I teeter, and I've got one.
I close my fist, I yank it to my chest.
Suddenly, I'm falling up.
Up.
Up.
I grab another. I go slower.
Up, up, up.
Another. I've got them in my hands. Everything is still.
I am bigger than the universe.
I am bigger than the box.
Fists clasped to my chest, I finally venture a look between my fingers.
The light that pours out is bright, it's white, it's colorful, it's painful.
I crush a star between my fingers.
Crush another, grind it up.
I clap the last star between my hands, I feel it burst and burn.
Maybe I cut them loose.
Maybe I set them free.
Maybe it's okay I started falling again.
When I hit the water the cold is heavy, it drags me down.
When breath is passed to me, I take it. I wake up again.
I start again. I run again. I jump again.
I reach out.
I reach out.
I reach out.
I crush the stars in my hands and it burns.
Play it again, Micky.
I do it again.