Within

3

Warning: This fic contains vore, slash, emotional distress, physical injury, mentions of rape, lots and lots of crying, and is generally for a mature audience. Read at your own discretion.

Hello everyone! If you wanted to avoid the gross and skipped to here, then welcome to the fic. I'm sure you can figure out what happened via context. Anyhoo, our bus has passed into Emotionland, so I hope you all enjoy our first stop.

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3

Everything was dark for a long time. He dreamed, but the memories called forth grew darker and darker until they weren't dreams but rather nightmares. It felt like everything was too hot, and he just wanted to scream and scream and scream. In time, he fell back to complete unconsciousness again. For an eternity, he faded in and out of dreaming, his consciousness refusing to get any closer to true awareness. Again and again, he fell into nightmares of heat and feeling trapped. Sometimes it was wet, and sometimes it was loud, but always it was terrifying. Always there was the musical laugh of the one who haunted him.

Reality was hard to discern. Sometimes he thought he was awake, but it was only an old memory. Sometimes, he dreamed of things that were familiar but strange, things he didn't really remember experiencing. He dreamed of dark hallways and smiling friends and loneliness.

As time passed, the haze fell away bit by bit, and Luigi returned to himself. He was first aware of heat. Every breath he took made it sizzle, and then he was aware of pain. Everywhere hurt. Each dull heartbeat produced a sharp reply from his nerves. He was unable to scream.

He had been awake for some time now, but had not gathered himself. He fell asleep for a few minutes, and came back with a better awareness of himself. He remembered what had happened, or at least the notion of it, for his mind had locked away its true remembrance. He must be dead. He hurt so much, he must be. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to see what next world he had gone to, where pain was still a possibility.

But he did open them, and was once more met with a garishly bright green color. Confused, he simply stared at it, hoping that whoever made hell had bad taste. He couldn't be... He...He couldn't still be in... He shuddered involuntarily and was met by another wave of agony. He fell unconscious briefly, but everything was still the same when he returned to the surface again. He was still breathing. He could feel the air aggravating the tenderness of his throat and lungs.

It felt like something heavy was sitting on top of him. He couldn't even move his head to look around. There was a clock somewhere in the room. He could hear it ticking. Time passed with an unbearable slowness.

The ticking stuttered, and he realized he'd slept again. He heard the soft sound of a door opening, and his heartbeat immediately accelerated in fear. He began to breathe in short pants, the change upsetting the fragile balance his body had adapted to. He moaned and closed his eyes, wanting to shut the world out.

His heart skipped a beat when something wet touched his face. It was a moment before he realized it was cold and not hot. He could sense someone standing right beside him. They gently dabbed a damp washcloth over his face, providing a slight but much needed relief to the way his body felt. There was the sound of the cloth being wrung out and dipped into water. Then it was placed on his forehead and left there.

Luigi calmed a little, trying to rationalize. Maybe someone had come to save him, or...or... Yes, someone must have saved him, that was it. B-But... Who could have possibly stood up to the jester? For crying out loud, the demon had escaped death itself, and who knew what kind of power he was capable of wielding! He whimpered, still keeping his eyes firmly shut.