ﾟ･stars were made for falling ﾟ･ (original)

22- ...and begins to breathe again

Waking up, the first thing Cancer was aware of was a creeping, warm feeling all over his body. The next thing he realized is that he once again had a body. He stretched a little, becoming slowly aware of his surroundings as small, pleasant glimpses of memories past washed over him. He wasn't sure who he was right then, but he knew he had been many people, seen so many things, felt almost everything a young mortal could feel, and yet...

The warmth of the sun hitting his face was still as wonderful as it had been the first time. He wasn't sure when the first time was, or how long ago it had been, but consistently that feeling remained the same.

He was becoming faintly aware of the surface underneath him, a slightly chilly slab of stone that wasn't the most terribly comfortable thing to rest on. Still, laying out in the sun, feeling the slow warmth of being alive slowly returning to his limbs as he woke, he was certain there was nothing better than what he was feeling right now. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he was completely unbothered, almost cosmically at peace, as if the universe itself couldn't touch him. Cancer had never felt so old, he'd never felt so young.

He let his eyes drift open, staring up with sheer nonchalance at his white surroundings; he could remember this place, but not much else about it. He knew it should have been a bad place, but there was a large, domed window over the top of the room, letting in all the sunlight. It couldn't have been too bad, despite the smell he was becoming increasingly more and more aware of. It was almost rotten, fogging up the air more and more as his senses slowly returned. He shook his head, almost gagging as the peace he'd been feeling before was slowly being replaced with a trickle of fear and disgust.

He sat up in a rickety sit, his back suddenly feeling the effects of laying on something so unyielding. He grimaced, rubbing at a small kink in his neck as he looked around, the memories coming in faster waves now.

The podium, the stadium seats, the dais, the void-filled door frame off to the side, the empty pedestals surrounded by dust... The Candle sitting next to him, still ignited. He grabbed for it without hesitation, gently crushing the thing to silvery dust between his fingers, and across from him, the doorway closed.

His peace at last had been replaced by sickly dread as his eyes fell onto the person laying next to him on the dais. He couldn't remember his name in this life yet, but he knew who it was. Moving a little closer, he gently shook his shoulder, not sure what to say, or even how to speak. He just pulled the other boy a little closer, examining his face for signs of life, almost fainting with relief when he noticed the slow rise and fall of his chest. So, Pisces had made it back as well, just like they'd planned. Cancer couldn't help but smile a tiny bit at Pisces, looking so peaceful and unbothered as he slept on the dais; he knew he would have to wake him soon, but he didn't want to just yet. He wanted to make sure they were truly alone.

Cancer rose to his feet, stretching as he did so, letting the rest of the life come back into his limbs; strangely enough, his body felt almost stronger than before, much more capable than it had been back in the void. He could remember the void now, he could remember watching Ophiuchus crumble to dust as the last of the nightlights were destroyed, he could remember finding the eternally lit Candle in the pile of dust where the monster once stood. He remembered Pisces standing there, bloody and broken down, falling into his arms, saying things that made his ears burn now.

He looked around the platform, looking for any signs of anyone else- he knew someone had died, but he couldn't remember who yet. Maybe Scorpio? Gemini? He couldn't remember their names from this life yet, but he was certain something horrible had happened to them, and from what he could remember, they deserved it. All that remained in place of their bodies were piles of shiny, golden dust, thickly covering the dais and the floor around it, mixing with the silver from the nightlights. Cancer knew somehow that they had crumbled when their nightlights had, and if he was going to die now, his body would do the same thing; it only made him feel even sicker, shaking his head and closing his eyes.