Please Save My Earth (Rin/Alice) [Week 4 - Prompt 7] Title: Isolation Author:trio Rating: PG Warnings: alternate universe, mentions of death and insanity Word Count: 529 Summary: Nine years alone can change a person.
Earth was her sanctuary, a mystical planet she watched from above. When the others had been alive, she'd been fascinated by the place, loving every moment of research they spent on it. She could spend long hours talking over tiny aspects of human life with Shion and Shukaido, could sit at her desk for ages just poring over the various pictures of Earth plants. Yes, when the others were alive, Earth had been a source of constant joy for her.
Now, it was a haven, a place for her mind to retreat to with every breath, her body slowly fading as she sought the solace of a planet she could not touch. Shukaido's medicine had come too late for Shion, but it had worked on her... oh had it worked. She was left there, alone in the silence, with only her own voice or recordings breaking it. Nine years of going mad, her arms and body skeletal thin and her voice gone, long-forgotten along with the words she had once known. She played the music she'd always loved, but she couldn't sing it anymore. No sound dared come from her throat.
Alice jerked awake, staring blindly at the wall for a long minute as one hand lifted to claw at her throat. She could hear her babysitter in the other room, and that scared her, too. But she couldn't scream. She couldn't make a sound, really, and when she finally stumbled to her feet, wobbly legs carrying her to the small balcony off her room, where her parents had decorated with flowers and plants and caged her in with wire, she dropped to her knees, scraping them on the concrete of the balcony floor. The thud must have caught Rin's attention, for the large form stepped into her room, purple-grey eyes searching for her. She felt his presence behind her, and she couldn't stop him from gathering her up to put her back to bed. And so she reached out, fingertips brushing against the leaves of a hydrangea a moment before he hauled her into his arms, his gentle smile reassuring her.
She twisted in his arms then, clinging to him like a limpet as he carted her back to bed, his soft blue hair teasing at her temple. "It's okay, Alice," he promised, eyes warm and sympathetic. "We all get bad dreams sometimes. Your plants will still be there tomorrow." The covers drawn up to her chin, he settled on the side of her bed, stroking his hands over her black hair as she began to finally relax. Long before she was truly asleep, she pretended to be, feeling him breathe a sigh of relief and get up, padding to the door. There was a faint click as the door was pulled shut, and only then did she sit up, looking out of the balcony door to where the hydrangea sat, bathed silver in the moonlight. "You be Mokuren tonight," she directed quietly, her voice a hoarse croak that it never was during the day. Then turned in her bed, burrowing under her covers as she tried to block out the memories.