|moontyger (moontyger) wrote in no_true_pair,|
@ 2009-05-23 18:48:00
|Entry tags:||! 2009 kinks challenge, author: moontyger, crossover: honey and clover/sandman, pairing: ayu/death|
Fear of the Dark [Sandman/Honey and Clover, Death/Ayu]
Title: Fear of the Dark
Fandoms: Sandman/Honey and Clover
Pairing/characters: Death/Ayumi Yamada
Warnings: not really any
Prompt/challenge you're answering: Ayu and Death are captives that turn to each other for comfort
Ayumi Yamada had never been afraid of the dark. She'd never even understood why anyone would be, but when she opened her eyes to unrelieved blackness, she felt the first jolt of that fear, an icy shiver down her spine unlike anything she'd ever felt. Why was it so dark? Had she gone blind?
She closed her eyes again, trying to remember where she was and how she'd gotten here, and concentrated on controlling her breathing, staving off momentary panic. Ayu had never been one of those delicate women always needing rescue and she wouldn't let herself act like it now.
She opened her eyes again, slowly, and struggled to sit up. “Is anyone there?”
The voice that replied was a woman's, husky but still somehow sweet. “Don't be afraid, Yamada.”
Her head hurt as she moved, a persistent sharp ache, but the use of her name made Ayu pause, trying to remember if she'd heard this voice before. “Do I know you?”
A soft laugh in the dark, though she wasn't sure what there was to laugh about in this situation. “We haven't been introduced. You can call me Didi.”
Didi? Was she an exchange student? Frowning, she struggled to her feet, but it only took a few steps to convince her she might be better off crawling. Wherever this was, there were far too many obstructions to trip over, at least when she was blind. Disoriented, her head pounding, Ayu crawled, relieved when she found a wall to collapse against. “In that case, you should call me Ayu,” she panted, half-lying against the cool solidity of the wall as she waited for the dizziness to subside.
When she'd caught her breath, she sat up, moving slowly to avoid provoking further dizziness, and tried again to look around, but she still couldn't make out anything, not even shapes in the dark or the shine of a pale face. “Are you a student?”
Didi didn't answer, but she felt a warm hand take her own. A small hand, but a strong one, the hand of an artist, just like her own. They sat like that in the dark, holding hands in silence, while Ayu tried to think of something else to say over her growing fear. The silence and the persistent dark made it worse, increasing until she felt it pressing down on her chest like incipient claustrophobia.
“Can we turn on the lights?” She forced the words out, seeking a distraction, some kind of remedy for her fear.
“I don't think there are any.” The hand in hers tightened in a comforting squeeze and she heard shifting, the scraping sounds of a body scooting awkwardly on a concrete floor. Ayu had been without sight long enough now that she could almost picture the movements of the girl beside her just from the sound. “You can put your head on my shoulder.”
She tilted her head, letting herself lean against Didi. The girl was slight, yet somehow Ayu didn't doubt that she could support her weight. She closed her eyes again and felt herself drift. Strange that she was so complacent. She was “Iron Man” Yamada - shouldn't she be up, finding a door and forcing a way out, not lying here against a girl she didn't know, letting that same girl comb fingers through her hair, gently separating the strands as though she were Ayu's mother and not a stranger? And yet she felt so tired, her limbs heavy and weak, and the gesture was obscurely comforting when everything around her was so strange and frightening.
“I'm scared,” Ayu found herself saying, after a long stretch of the time she couldn't measure had passed. Her voice was quiet, scarcely more than a whisper, but she wasn't sure why she'd said it at all. It wasn't the sort of thing she was used to admitting.
“You don't have to be afraid. I'm here with you.” Another movement, quick and sure, and then there were lips on hers, lips as soft and sweet as the voice, gentle but not at all maternal, not any longer. Didi tasted sweet, vaguely like strawberries and something like the first joyous flush of love, before she'd learned love wasn't always returned.
“I'm glad you're here,” Ayu whispered, and sensed a smile she couldn't see in return.
Then there was nothing but the sound of wings.