Fanfare

Fears

The east tunnels are larger than the others; they don't have to crawl, and Jack's lights continue far into their depths. There are other branches which are low enough to have to crawl through, but Pierce continues straight ahead, ignoring those tunnels.

His silence is deafening to her. Trenna wouldn't usually care, preferring silence herself, but now she'd rather not be left alone with her thoughts. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, not quite sure of what she's going to say but ready to do so regardless. And the lights flick off. For her, everything is basically the same, if not a bit brighter. But Pierce is still.

"Jack must have reached the rock," Trenna says, just because there is finally something to say. Pierce does not respond. He isn't moving. She frowns and walks forwards, in front of him. She looks up into his face, at his closed eyes, the taught line to his jaw and shoulders. "Pierce?" she asks. "Are you alright? We're nearly there," she says, though she has no clue of where they are. "Someone can help." She grabs a fistful of fabric at his chest and turns, tugging. He doesn't move, doesn't even budge.

"Pierce?" She turns back to him. He swallows, his throat working. His eyes are closed so tightly it looks like it hurts. She spreads her fingers flat on his chest. His heart beats rapidly against her palm, a fast tattoo she recognises as fear. "You're scared of the dark," she says, wonder and bemusement in her voice. Of all things to be scared of, unforgiving Pierce is scared of the dark.

His face angles towards her. "Why aren't you?" he asks, no shame in the admittance of his fear.

Trenna purses her lips in thought. "Because darkness is comforting," she says, finally. "Darkness never lies. Darkness is what it is and nothing else. Darkness can be oblivion. But light shines on things you might not want to know. Light is scary. But we still choose it. Not many choose the dark. And maybe that's a braveness in itself. People are brave; we choose the light, almost always. All that's humane in us is light. Am I scared of the dark? No. Not really."

"What about the light?" he asks quietly.

"The light?" She looks up at him, watches as he swallows, feels the frantic beating of his heart against her fingertips. She swallows and speaks; controlled, even. "I'm terrified."

He stands before her silently, before holding out his hand in the darkness between them. She places her free hand in his, laces their fingers together, and leads him into the shadows.