Ambivalence [p.h.] - EDITING

chapter 18 || fear five and six

A/N Thank you all so much for voting and commenting!  Just a quick note before you read; I know the last two chapters have been mostly about Jax being in her simulation but it's moving the story along.  I'm thinking of giving her maybe seven or eight and then going back to more regular chapters.  Sorry if you don't like these ones, there's only one more after this!  Anyways, enjoy your chapter.

I don't know where I am.  When I look at my hands, I can see right through them.  The area around me is dark, but I can just make out what seems to be a barren wasteland.  I can see bits and pieces of destroyed rock and dust and waste strewn around me too.  A groan escapes somebody nearby; it sounds like it comes from a guy.  I look around me, and spot in the distance a lump that looks like a person.  It moves, and groans in agony.  I take off sprinting for them, not knowing who it is nor what happened to them.  As I approach, I almost scream.  Lying on the ground is somebody who looks familiar.  But I can't tell who.  His hair is singed off in places, and his skin is burnt, cut, scraped, and bloodied all over.  He clutches his gut with ashy hands.  His skin is an olive colour aside from the burns.  His nose is cracking out in different directions, and his leg is bent in a way it shouldn't be.  He must somehow sense my presence, as he eerily turns towards me.  I let out a shriek this time.  One of his eyes is scarred over, with bouts of blood seeping in to give it a reddish-grey colour.  The other is too familiar.  I know who he is now, but it looks nothing like him.

"Jax," he wheezes.  I sink down to my knees to inspect his injuries.  "You need to leave.  They already got everyone else.  Save yourself."  I shake my head.  His one green eye darkens more than I thought it possibly could.

"GO!  Don't you see?  You have to go!  I'm already dead!  Leave!  Go home!  I'll be fine."  He grunts and removes his hand from his gut, leaving a hideous stab wound on display for me.  I let out a sob.  I'm pounding with fear.  His eye slowly returns to its regular colour as his breathing grows labourious.  "Jax..." he tries to say.  His eyes roll back into his head as he goes limp, his suffering over.  I let out a shriek close my eyes.

• • •

My eyes fly open as I realize I'm in my own bunk, up in the middle of the night and drenched in my own sweat.  I clamp my eyes shut again and feel the fear still coursing through my veins.

"Jax," someone whispers.  "Jax, it's alright.  It was just a dream.  Whatever it was, it wasn't real." I gingerly pry my eyes open to be met with a familiar face.  In fact, the face of someone I just saw die.  Again, might I add, just not as beaten up.  All I can manage to squeak back is a whimper.  Peter sits down on my bunk and lightly touches my back.  I try and hold back my abnormal shivering of fear and anxiety to no avail.  "Shhhh..." Peter whispers.  

"A dream?" 

"A dream."  I take a few deep breaths as Peter rubs my shoulder.  After substantially calming down, I roll over a little to face Peter.  He visibly winces at the sight of me, to which I internally groan.  Way to go, Jax.  I sniffle a bit and wipe away some half-dried tears.  I push myself up with my elbows, wrinkling the already messy sheets.  I make eye contact with Peter for a moment before he envelopes my small-ish frame in a hug.  His body heat helps with the shivering as it's comfortable and soothing, such that it calms me down.  After who knows how long, he lets go of me and I sit back.

"Want to talk about it?" Peter asks.  I shake my head.

"But I don't think I'll be able to sleep again.  What time is it?" 

"Five thirty-ish.  Everyone else is still asleep."  I nod.  

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth and get ready then."  Peter pushes himself off the bed and waits for me to get out.  I shuffle out from under the strewn about covers and stumble into the bathroom.  Stalking over to the sink, I splash a couple doses of ice cold water onto my face.  Even after brushing my teeth, I'm still shaken up, though my heartbeats aren't as sporadic as they were.  I hobble over to my bunk and quickly pull on whatever is clean.  By the time I'm done, Peter is sitting on his own bunk and staring at the wall.  I tiptoe over messy floors littered with dirty clothes to poke him on the shoulder.  He turns his head to look at me and gives a slight smile.