Swirling Through the Darkness

Who—? Dray struggled, hissing out a curse before his eyes caught up with his panic enough to see Stov twisting a glance back, frowning.

“Stov?” He nearly choked on his relief, feet tripping over each other in the rush of dizziness whirling on its heels. Black spots flickered through his vision—for a minute he wondered if he was gonna pass out or throw up.

“Dray? Come on, speak to me.”

Stov’s shadow kneeled, and Dray blinked back a stinging drop of clammy sweat, finding himself slumped on the floor gripping his shoulder with a shaking hand, dark shapes like washers and racks lining the walls. “Where... hf hf— where are we?”

“The laundry—”

“And how did you get here?” He squinted at the hazy silhouette. Couldn't seem to focus. “Need... need to get away. You’ll get arrested.”

“Dray.” A hand settled solidly on his shoulder, and he had to blink back a skittering whirl. “Shut up. I’m getting your kritzed ass out of here, you folded drelf.”

Drelf, huh. A soft huff of a laugh escaped his lips, shaking slightly. “Tell me you didn’t bring Erold.”

“I didn’t.”

Something good, for once.

“He came by himself. Couldn’t stop him.”

...

Shihk.

“Stov—” A bundle of clothing shoved into his arms, his kritzing idiot of a friend rolling right over him like his voice was too weak to break through. Which it was.

“He’s watching our way out, but Neri’s gone home. I pillaged your clothes from the reject pile—put them on before the force blunders in here. We’re heading out the back.”

Closing his eyes and hissing between his teeth, he did so, pulling them on silently and tugging at the collar of his battered jacket. “What happened to the... you know.”

“I’m ninety points sure the force got it. It took a shot, and they sent the hunters after. If it’s not dead, someone’s incredibly incompetent.”

Dray swore he could sense Stov’s eyes lingering on his shoulder as he finally dropped his hand, stumbling a little. “Hope so. Don't want it waiting outside.”

Stov nudged him toward a set of stairs, one hand gripped around his arm. “You are so high on pain meds right now.”

A shaky laugh huffed free of his lips. “Surprised they bothered.”

The fingers tightened, Stov’s silence practically stony.

It didn't take them long to get out, Stov yanking him around as voices and heavy footsteps echoed, shoving him down a waste chute into some kind of garage. Nobody spotted them, but he swore he saw shadows lurking in the dark corners....

Somehow he found himself on the street, at a wall, a blur of pale hands and skinny arms under a loose throw-sweater helping him up.

A pale face with a clenched jaw met him as he half-collapsed at the top, wheezing for breath. “Er-Erold.”

“It’s clear, we just need to—”

Dray interrupted him with a 'Tia-level hug, making him squawk. And nearly sent them tumbling off.

“Dray—”

“Nearly lost you,” he mumbled, his sense of balance refusing to stay balanced.

“He’s sluhking high on meds, ‘Rold,” Stov grunted behind, a hand slapping lightly at his back before a dull thump floated up from below. “Come on, hugs later. We need to move your folded ass before the force closes in on us.”

Oh shihk he’s right.

“Dray...?” Erold’s voice trembled slightly, and he pulled back, offering as much of a smile as he could manage with his head playing swoops-and-divers.

“Don't do that again.” He patted him on both shoulders and slipped over the edge, dropping dizzily into the mossy, dingy alleyway and moving to follow.

It all blurred by. His eyelids fluttered, hand half-brushing the wall as they moved, sometimes smooth metal or crete, sometimes vines like veins. Endless footsteps. Shadows curled around his feet, eyes glinting down dark pathways....

A hand hesitantly caught at his arm, and he twitched, blinking back into focus. They’d... where were they? The rumble of a shuttle line cut through the haze, pipes snaking along the bulging wall beside him, little star-fronds bristling in-between.

Stov dropped into the cold depths of the cradle ahead of him. Probably would've fallen in himself if Erold hadn’t pulled him back, moving on auto like he'd been for the last... few minutes?

He eased down the ladder after him, arms trembling like he'd climbed a mountain already. Dropping the rest of the way, he had to catch himself against the side of the tunnel, the hum of power systems and a shuttle passing overhead vibrating through his palm.

His other hand clenched against his shoulder, knees threatening to buckle. Maybe the meds had started to wear off. Felt worse, somehow, burning him from the inside-out as he fought to catch his breath.

“Jrahk.” Stov’s hand caught his other shoulder. “You okay?”

“Oh niff— is he okay? Dray?”

He closed his eyes. “Five minutes. Breather.”

“...Fine. Two minutes, and if you’re not ready to move I’m carrying you.”

“’Ll take it.” He slid down against the wall.

Holding on for a long series of fluttering heartbeats, he willed the throb to die down, vaguely aware of the others in the tunnel, Stov crouching down nearby.

“How're you doing?”

He snorted softly. “I was bitten, Stov. Burns like Hahll.”

Erold shifted in the dark, his face even paler than usual. "Are you... sure you're okay?"

Dray threw a wan smile up at him. "Could be worse."

Erold looked like he wanted to say more, but never did. It was quiet for a long while.

“Your two minutes are up,” Stov said quietly, and offered him a hand. “We need to move.”

"Mff." If the force sent their hunters, might not have much time. Taking it, steadying himself against the dizzying whirl, he followed.

Half-aware of Erold just behind him, he started to drift again, the rumbling rise-and-fall of shuttles dying to a dull mumble flowing in waves through his head. Just needed to get home... couldn’t worry about being tracked. Had to keep moving.

The tunnel around them reminded him of underground passages, water squishing under their shoes. Maybe they’d never left. He mulled over that, half-imagining they were still back there, the shadow of a click-rumbling monster stretching after them....

He shook that away, struggling to focus on Stov's MIP glowing off shiny walls, faintly-glowing stalks and veins running through the crete. In the dark without a light of his own, maybe he was the monster following just behind in the shadows, miasma infecting his veins.

I’m tripping so hard....

A half-laugh escaped him, rattling faintly in his ribcage, buried under the roar of a shuttle rushing overhead. Almost swore he heard a guttural clicking echo in the dark. In a few weeks that might be him: glowing yellow eyes, claws like knives, and long fangs dripping black—

He squeezed at his neck, a cold chill shivering down his spine. Shihk. Shihk, he was not going to let his thoughts wander there. Especially not high on pain meds.

“Dray.”

Twitching, Dray focused on Stov, a wild part of him convinced the other'd somehow been following his thoughts. But he just gestured up, pointing out a... that was a ladder.

He blinked. Already? “Where are we?”

“Nearly home.” Stov clambered up more easily than Dray felt like he’d be able to manage for a while. “Come on. One last chasm.”

“...I have so much coursework to catch up on,” was... not what he’d really meant to say.

“Tell me about it,” Erold mumbled behind him.

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he snail-crawled up. He’d interrupted that, hadn’t he? It felt like a million wars ago.....

“Follow right behind me. And I mean right behind. Anything I do, you do, or you’re getting flagged by a cam.”

He dutifully stepped in behind. “Would it flag me? It’s only been a couple hours.”

“You'll get flagged for not having a MIP. But if one does catch us, you should be fine if you’re in my shadow. Solaura cams might be good, but they’re not great at picking apart individual auras.”

Some good news. He tried to ignore the way his legs wobbled faintly as he followed Stov across the street and up the stairs. There'd been warm lights on. They must've been awake....

“Your level.” Stov stepped to the side, hands shoved in his pockets. “This is where I get off.”

Dray nudged him, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Stov.”

“Stop putting it off and open the door.”

He rolled his eyes, gripping the knob. “Eyah. Fine, you emotionally crippled drelf.”

And... it didn't open. He squinted at it, experimentally twisting a couple times. No? Had the lock malfunctioned again?

“I’ll get it.” Erold hastily stepped in, and it clicked open. Because Erold still had his MIP, and the signature tuned to the lock.

Ah. “...Thanks.”

“Sleep off those meds,” Stov recommended with a punt to his back. “I’ll track down your MIP tomorrow.”

“It’ll be flat,” he warned, glancing over his shoulder as Stov headed down the stairs, “and sitting in the bottom of a puddle.”

“It’ll dry out.”

He shook his head. That therrolf'd better be gone. Stov would be checking the news before he headed out, anyway. The first therrolf outside of the yard in wars—it’d be all over the network, and then some—

“Drayyyyyy!”

A bundle of long wild hair and a too-big hoodie—is that mine?—clamped arms around his middle like lizard jaws, driving the breath out of him.

He grunted, wincing, and forced out a smile, aggressively ruffling his little sister’s head. “Hey ‘Tia!”

Her face blinked up at him owlishly. “Where’d you go? Mum and Dad have been up all night, and I was scared, and Neri said something about the hospital—”

“Hey hey, I’m alive.” He tugged gently at one of her arms. “Maybe don’t squeeze so hard? I got scraped pretty bad.”

Her eyes went wide, and she abruptly let go, arms clamping against her sides. With a soft snort, he crushed her in a hug of his own. “Squeeze less, not let go.”

“Watch out, he’s really clingy right now,” Erold snarked, and ‘Tia wriggled, making sad grabby hands at him.

“Nooooo. I like clingy! I want Erold hugs too!”

“How is this more clingy than normal?” He questioned, still clinging to her.

“The first thing you did when you saw me was try to wrestle me off a ledge—”

“Erold? Dray?”

A soft voice broke in. It had a shaky edge.

Popping up, he met Mum’s green eyes, tight worry lines pinching the corners. She dropped before he could let go of Atia, wrapping them both in a tight hug, the smell of nightstar petals and vanilla filling his nose.

“Oh, Dray—”

He let go of 'Tia and squeezed her back, a lump stuck in his throat as a shaky breath whispered against his ear. I'm sorry. Couldn't choke out the words. Hadn't meant to worry her.

“Neri told us what happened.” Her hand stroked at the back of his head, and she pulled back, damp eyes full of dread searching his face. “Where... where did it...?”

He tilted his head slightly to show off the area better. “It’s... not too bad.”

Small fingers brushed at the bandage. “That’s where the thyre bit you?”

Mum’s other hand stroked at 'Tia's hair. “It is.” Her grip shifted to his face, thumb gently stroking at his cheekbone. “How are you feeling?”

He made a face. Didn't want to think about all the possible answers. “Doped up on meds.”

"You will be," Dad's voice joined in, a smile not chasing away the stress wrinkles. His hand rested on Dray's shoulder, 'Tia huddled in the middle watching them all with big blue eyes. "You should get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”