Believe in Me

Asleep

This chapter is going to be filled with a lot of thoughts I guess, just sort of in a rambling mood, sorry for that. They might not all make sense, I’m losing my grip on Grey as a character, but I think I know how I’m going to fix it possibly. Until then thank you so, so much for reading and have a good night. Hopefully there'll be much better chapters than this in the near future. More action will come soon as well.

 There was darkness… but that was rarely something new to renew consciousness upon. Darkness and silence, the two generals that got his mind spinning against its will. If he began to think then he would end up miserable once more, just the usual concept of being the reaper of lives… and of horribly failing at even that job as of late. 

He still felt though, something he assumed to be a bed or blanket cushioning his back, pressing into the grooves that were dawning in pain more and more as he came to being more and more awake. But the deepest pain wasn’t nearly the bruises or cuts that he assumed were there… It was the knowledge that Ilia wasn’t in his sight anymore. That one spirit had her and he had allowed him to get away. He didn’t know where she was, he didn’t know where anyone was. To the extent of his powers he sensed that no one familiar had passed on but how could he be sure when his powers worked or not? Chaos had managed to stop him in different ways before, who knew? He felt so… helpless, and he hated every second of it. Hadn’t he been the one to claim responsibility for himself and only himself, to swear to have no care in the world for any other being simply because it would always hurt him in the end? It was a promise he made an exception for and eventually completely shattered when he followed Ilia to the guardians. Now he was just as weak as any other… but with the same burden. He wasn’t so low as to ask for a way out of his situation, if he weren’t the spirit of death then someone else would have to be and he would never wish that on any other. He could handle it, he had for thousands, over thousands, of years… so why was now such an issue? Why had he collapsed the wall of strength and durability that had stayed sturdy for centuries without even a chip? Had he honestly been fooled by the temptation of an actual family? Tricked by his own mind that there was a small chance that maybe these guardians could make up for the solitude he had once grown completely used to? Thanks to that he was being punished, his body unresponsive to his repetitive orders to get himself up, it didn’t matter how badly it hurt, nothing mattered as long as… As long as you can save them? This devotion to specific beings is ruining you, Grey Loss, and with that loss of strength you’ll never be able to protect anyone let alone them. But he had locked himself into that desire when he first entered through that window, found Ilia and brought her back to life with a selfish want for her to continue living, out of regret for not being there for her. It was either to make her feel like he was avoiding her or to ignore his job, he was torn between what he was born to do and what his life revolved around, the only light that could possibly glow in the dark shadows that had encased him and chained him to his fate. He had once accepted this fate, earning him the title of the spirit of reality. Now… he hardly deserved that title at all. His center wasn’t reality, his center was nothing but a lost being that was given the burden that had to be taken by someone. No matter how well he could swing a scythe it hardly mattered when he was too mentally confused and unorganized to keep his brain in mental check to time when to swing. He was pitiful with how many times he’d wind up finding himself either beaten so badly he would die if he even possibly could or just plain useless, unconscious or locked up, turned into a monster or acting as the monster on accident himself. Why did they even want him? He claimed strength before simply because he ignored these negative thoughts, ignored them and answered each ‘Why…?’ with a ‘Because that’s how things work’ and continued on, solidly refusing to accept the persistent want for a truth. Was that strength or ignorance? And what he was now… was that weakness or simply caring he never attempted to possess before? He didn’t know and he wouldn’t. So many questions that would continue to go unanswered for thousands more years flickered through his head… the first time he trusted anyone outside of himself was with that one girl in the park before. She was waiting for her mother every day for so long, clinging to a hope so shallow that it was completely impossible to be real with her whole heart…. Compared to himself, someone who had discarded hope for a form of long-term joy, it was a strangely interesting concept. He wanted to be able to hope, he was confused on how she even could. Then she died. All hope always died… but after that she came back. It confused him, it interested him, and overall it made him come to love the only light in the world that was bright enough to reach him at that point. He tried to avoid her but she had turned into the family he never had, the family he never thought he wanted until she was there, smiling up at him like he was the sun, the first time in his entire lifespan for someone to ever greet him with a look that didn’t contain fear or anger in any way. Ilia became his light… and then she led him to multiple others. He grew a heart in the shattered remains of the one that he stomped on before, the care taping itself back together against his will until it meant everything to save her, to save all of them… He truly was hopeless if he thought he could do that in the condition he was in. Trapped, unable to control even his own body… how was he supposed to help them if he was too pitiful even to help himself? Darkness… just darkness. There were beginning to be noises, a creak of an old floorboard that sounded familiar to the ones that lined the Pole, the twist of a doorknob that made a clicking noise when it was released, the shove of a door that gently bumped against the wall behind it, footsteps, breathing. The beast must’ve been growing in him without him knowing it, each inhale and exhale heard well despite the noise coming from a few feet away… someone was watching him? It was a strange thought. Maybe they were wondering what to do with him while he was too weakened to even open his eyes. Once again, he was out of control completely… and no matter how many times it would happen, he’d hate each second of it. More footsteps; great, whoever was staring him down in his coma-like state was going to have company. If it were Ilia he would’ve felt her crawling onto the bed or tugging at his sleeve to wake him up, the kid being far too impatient on most occasions to wait for him to get up. If it were Chaos he’d be hanging by his neck somehow… so that left a high chance that there were two guardians blinking down at him silently. Did they know he could hear them? Did they even care? If they were going to kick him out then he wouldn’t mind, he had overstayed his visit by over a few months, only having expected to show up for a little while in the first place. He’d get kicked into the snow and wake up at some point years later to find that everything he cared for was gone. He didn’t put it past Chaos to pull something like that, a revenge for the sleep that Death inflicted on the other. Would it be that bad of a thing? Once again he would be solid with no weakness to tear him from the job that he was only alive to do… That truth was something he was used to by now. The concept of being a spirit, the lack of ability to die without an actual wound to cause death, the ability to use magic, to control a domain of the world, it all sounded fairy-like until it reached into the deeper parts of the mind. The only reason a spirit was alive was to do his job, once that job was completed he would be discarded and if he didn’t do the job well enough he would be replaced. They were brought from the gates of heaven back to earth to roam around in loneliness and confusion, to do the jobs they were sent to do with no credit… and they didn’t get a choice. The worst part for him though was that he’d never die, no matter how many wounds were inflicted upon him. He was never dull enough in the mind to attempt to kill himself, stating that his job was necessary despite the fact that it wouldn’t have done anything but put a hole in his throat and keep him miserable and unable to breathe until the wound eventually healed. But this would be worth it… as long as he could do something to help somehow… because Ilia could die, Jack could die, and they were gone, out of his domain of protection. Ilia had been right there and he was too weak to keep himself going to save her, he collapsed right in front of her, became so indecent as to allow himself to fall to whatever strange, painful spell the spirit placed on him that caught him in this torturous thinking state, that left him bound in invisible restraints, unable to awaken but awfully awake, unable to do anything…. But able to comprehend the fact that they were suffering and that he had no say or ability to fix it at all.
Finally… voices. He wanted something, a noise, an echo at the least to distract him from the savage torrents of his own thoughts but those accepted words didn’t come until minutes later, a subtle whisper, but it was enough to identify the speaker. “It’s been a month… he’s not gonna get up, Tooth, why do you keep comin’ here?” A female’s tone, Jayna’s. It had been a month…? His heart fell further if that were possible in any way. What was happening to them if they weren’t dead in thirty days’ time? What were the fractions of a chance that they might not be in danger at all? He was becoming like Ilia… hoping in the impossible. Neither Pitch nor most of his spirits were morally decent anymore, they wouldn’t just drop them because they got tired of toying with them. He felt so confused, so deep in a lack of understanding that it was tearing him apart… but that was probably what Pitch was hoping for.
“Maybe once he wakes up he could help us find Jack and them,” a hopeful tone replied, very slowly, filled with insecurity but a weak faith that was much stronger than the groundhog’s. “But you heard Chaos, he’s not GONNA wake up. For all we know they could be…”
“They’re not… they’re not gone…” Tooth interrupted quickly but muttered out the words silently, as if trying to comfort herself rather than state an actual fact. If only he could tell them that as far as he knew they really were all alive. “North’s thinking of a way to help them out while keeping Grey restrained and..”
“Restrained?! I’m sorry, but it cut Jack pretty damn badly in his dreams! It nearly killed the three of you in seconds! What restraints are you planning on finding?!”  It, she said. Not he, it. That made enough sense… he really was an ‘it’ by this point. They had to worry about him more than he helped them with the new monster ready to tear them to shreds at any moment. But they were going to have to restrain him to even get near the others… However much shame was flooding him it was heavy as any other burden. Why didn’t they just throw him out? Cut his tendons so that the beast wouldn’t be able to move, fill in the agitated wing-holes with concrete, he didn’t care if anything hurt as long as it kept the others safe. But the others weren’t safe and he couldn’t state his opinions in his state… “Look… I know there’s gotta be a way but…” There’s got to be a way… but was there? Silence… then footsteps. “Tooth, wait..! I didn’t mean it rudely but..!” The voice called out and yet it’s tone grew softer and softer as the two spirits apparently left the room. Still in darkness, once again in silence… and just as useless as before. Trapped in his mind and used as the sole weapon against the guardians. How pitiful indeed.

Grey’s sort of going to seem pretty whiney for a little bit, but I promise I’ll make him toughen out again. I messed up his personality and weakened him without meaning to, but I’ll make complete sure to fix it.