Processing...

Bodily Autonomy

His air supply is cut off again.

Eventually, Nico stops talking, has given up on its effectiveness. He's thrown up so many times he thinks he's out of stomach acid. His nose burns and his heart clenches with how fast it's been beating.

Nico's eyelids are heavy, and he doesn't know if that's because he's tired or dying, and the fact that he hopes he doesn't die makes his throat close up with shame.

They're right. He must be enjoying this. Whatever this was.

He doesn't even know where he is. Its pitch black, the only source of light being the pomegranate seeds on the bottom of whatever metal container he was in.

His clothes were ripped, so they didn't provide much warmth, but he didn't mind. He'd rather be cold than warm. He can't find the air to laugh at the irony. He used to chase warmth, crave it above all else.

Something tells him he should eat a pomegranate seed.

I don't want to

Nico would sob if he could, and as it is, he's already convulsing, the lack of oxygen sending his body into a panic. The pressure against his cracked ribs wakes him up enough to realize he has information.

The Doors of Death

Nico pops a seed in his mouth and crumples.

___________________

Nico wakes to a hand shaking his shoulder and screams.

It's shrill and panicked and hurts his throat as he scrambles away, moving along the wall into the corner opposite the hand.

Upon looking up, he sees the hand is attached to a figure, one that's slowly inching closer. Before he can hold it back, he sobs.

"Nico, it's just-"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!" Nico half screams, half sobs, pressing his back into the wall. His breath hitches when he realized he yelled, he shouldn't do that, he can't-

The figure's hand moves, and he screams, scrambling further into the corner. "Please! Please, please," -say something else, don't leave it up to interpretation, you idiot- "no more, I don't-" Nico coughs out a sob. "I don't want it, please, no more, please, please, please-"

Nico's eyes go unfocused, and suddenly the figure is in the other corner, opposite Nico.

"Are you ok?"

A rhetorical question, Nico isn't stupid.

Except...

He's waiting for an answer.

shit

What can he say that won't sound weak but won't sound like he's asking for it?

He can't not answer.

Nico doesn't even know if he can talk, in all honesty.

____________________

Nico's sitting on a mattress.

It's elevated.

Where-

"Nico?' a tentative voice.

Nico still jumps, scrambling away, falling off the bed and scraping his shoulder on the corner of a bedside table.

"Woah!" a hand reaches forward before quickly moving back. Odd.

"Can I help you up?" No.

Nico shakes his head, wincing when putting pressure on his side with the scarped shoulder to get up.