To: @midlangley

From: @eatingfireflies

Happy holidays, midlangley! I loved your prompts and I hope you don’t mind having some Junpei/Akanes with a bit of Kurashiki siblings bonding! ^^ (Some warnings for #body horror maybe? Oops.)

i.

In the dream he was in an unfamiliar room. On the shelves were boxes and cans of food; the kind that people stored for the winter back before the advent of supermarkets and online shops. He knew people still did this in places where sheep and dogs outnumbered the people, but he’d always made a point not to experience it first-hand. 

He was looking for something. A clue, perhaps? He was peering inside boxes. In one of them there were potatoes cut in half and resting in a row. They spoke to him in riddles. Another box contained a leg nestled on top of more potatoes. Skinny leg that surely belonged to a mannequin. It looked so lifelike but there was no blood, the cut below the knee too clean, and he could hear his companion’s voice telling him it wasn’t. Wasn’t real. Still his heart pounded against his rib cage until it was the only thing he could hear. He could hardly breath.

Other body parts were scattered around the room. Arms, torso. All neat and cold to the touch; the niggling suspicion at the back of his mind screaming now. He needed to get out of there. A key. He was looking for the key. In the enormous freezer, the mannequin’s first uncurled to reveal a small man. He cupped his hands so the man could jump onto his palms. 

‘That’s the key,’ said his companion. ‘Let’s get out of here and look for Junpei.’ 

Junpei. The name filled him with dread. Where the fuck was Junpei? His hands were shaking and he almost dropped the small man on the floor. 

‘Careful. Just slide him into the lock, right there.’ 

He did. The door opened. And inside– 

The scream was so loud he wasn’t sure if it was still part of the dream. Was it him screaming? The floor was slippery with blood. Whose blood? His blood? 

’Junpei!’ 

Aoi’s eyes flew open, his consciousness tearing itself away from the heavy coldness of sleep. Reality crashing down that was almost a physical pain. A dream, he thought. Just another fucking dream. 

In another history, he knew it was real. 

ii. 

In the bed she shared with Junpei, Akane slept on. A fitful sleep. 

iii. 

In the dream he was in the pantry. He remembered it from their brief tour of Ward C; marking the rooms in the map that Zero had provided them. They’d looked around, had taken note of the boxes and cans of food in preparation for whatever nuclear disaster the bunker has been made for, and had gone on to the next room. 

This time they were locked inside. This history not part of his memories; featuring puzzles he didn’t remember solving. They were easy, followed steps like in a recipe. Was Zero having a laugh at their expense? The bastard even thought to include body parts. He couldn’t be sure, even though Carlos kept reassuring him they weren’t real, but they looked so lifelike, if a bit cold to the touch. They were cut cleanly at the joints and quite bloodless. Surely they were just from a super realistic doll? What sort of hobbies did this second Zero even have? 

In the end they had to put one of the arms inside the microwave. A tight fit, even though the arm was pretty skinny. Whole arms weren’t supposed to go inside microwaves, no matter how fake they were. 

All warmed up the hand was now soft and pliant; he noticed Carlos playing rock-paper-scissors with it. He couldn’t say he didn’t do the same. It was an unsettling thing to have on one’s person, might as well make full use of it. 

He could swear he could feel bones inside the flesh. 

The hand was callused and there was a scar near the elbow; a thin silvery line against the pale skin of the mannequin. He remembered having slipped while crossing a shallow creek as a kid. His mother had scolded him for coming home dripping wet and with his shirt torn at the elbows. 

‘Let’s get out of here and look for Junpei,’ said Carlos. 

Junpei. The name filled him with dread. Hang on, he thought. I am Junpei; the fuck are you talking about, man? 

They placed the hand against the palm-print recognition device. The door opened. And inside– 

He was screaming, running away from the freezer and almost slipping. There was blood all over the floor. An axe and a chainsaw. So much fucking blood. 

‘Jumpy!’ 

Junpei woke up with a start. Beside him he could feel Akane stirring, hear her soft sobs. 

He reached out for her, slender shoulder pale in the darkness of their room, light from the moon enough for him to see her face and the tears on her cheeks. Another dream. Another one of those fucking dreams. 

‘Akane!’ he said. ‘Kanny?’ 

iv. 

In her dreams she kept seeing him dying. 

Shot full of holes, his face smudged with the ashes from the fireplace and the smell of gunpowder temporarily masking the coppery scent of blood. 

Unable to breathe and reassuring her between gasps that everything would be fine. Twenty minutes in a room of poisoned air and she had to see the light leaving his eyes; feel the warmth fading from his body. 

And this. Most nights this was the dream that haunted her sleep, made her wake up and reach out for him, fingertips tracing an invisible line across his neck. 

Whole. He was whole; her brave and beautiful boy. 

‘Kanny, wake up!’ 

v. 

In the room she shared with Junpei since Dcom–she and Aoi putting their feet down when Junpei suggested maybe he should go back to his own place; they had enough room and Junpei barely took up space–and on the bed next to him, Akane woke up. 

Junpei was holding her close; she could feel him rubbing her back, feel his breath warm against her neck. 

‘It’s all right, Kanny,’ he said. ‘I’m here.’ 

Someone was knocking on the door, perfunctory knock and then the soft thuds of bare feet on the wooden floor. 

‘We’re here,’ said Aoi. His voice was soft, not the cranky growling he does in the mornings when he wakes up too early. He’d been awake for a while; back when they were kids he would always make her tea or hot chocolate whenever she had bad dreams. He’d started doing it again recently. ‘Now someone take these fucking mugs from me before I spill eggnog all over your boy.’ 

Junpei made an indignant sound as Akane started to giggle. They both sat up on the bed, reaching out for the mugs Aoi had brought in a small tray. 

‘Did you put alcohol in these?’ said Akane, sniffing at her mug. 

‘Hey, it’s Christmas,’ said Aoi, grinning. He nudged Akane closer to Junpei so he can sit on the bed beside her. ‘A few drops of brandy won’t kill him.’ 

Junpei reached behind Akane to pinch Aoi’s arm. ‘Don’t joke about that now.’ 

‘Don’t spill the drinks!’ said Aoi. ‘Can someone turn the lights on in this godforsaken place?’ 

The eggnog was liberally laced with brandy, definitely more than ‘a drop’ but it did lots of wonders to soothe Akane’s nerves. Warm and comforted, with her boys bickering by her side, she raised her mug to her lips to hide a grin. 

vi. 

‘You’re not doing this alone any more,’ said Junpei. They’ve all settled back to bed, with Akane in the middle. Her bed was big enough for the three of them, although she and Junpei had to share a pillow since Aoi stole all the others. 

‘Excuse me?’ said Aoi. 

‘Neither of you,’ said Junpei, grudgingly. ‘I’m here and no amount of that super spicy curry your brother keeps on making is going to chase me away.’ 

‘Oh damn,’ said Aoi. Akane reached out to poke him in the ribs. 

‘It is very spicy,’ she said. 

‘Curry’s supposed to be spicy. Fucking heathens, the both of you,’ said Aoi, throwing a pillow at Akane and Junpei. ‘Now go back to sleep.’ 

Akane laughed. It’s only been five minutes and she’d rescued one of her pillows already. 

‘It’s three in the morning,’ she said, scooting closer to Junpei. ‘Merry Christmas, Jumpy!’ 

‘So it is,’ he said, craning his neck to look at the digital clock on the table behind Aoi. ‘About that. Presents, I mean. Because you know. What with all the investigating and stuff, I er. Hmm.’ 

‘This is already the best present I could have,’ said Akane, humming happily as Junpei started rubbing her back again. 

Beside her, Aoi groaned. ‘Are you serious? I want the receipt.’