Chapter Text
It’s quiet.
Brightcliffe has always been quiet after all of them return to their rooms to sleep off the night, but tonight feels especially quiet. It’s the hours of the night when not even the night nurses roam the halls, sticking to their desks to avoid the shadows that stalk every hallway. The stories of the Midnight Club dance in their own dreams, and are nothing more than a passing fancy for those dreaming of them.
And yet, Amesh is awake.
Staring up at the ceiling framed by the bedposts, Natsuki tucked into his chest and his arm wrapped securely around her. His breaths come fast and shallow, and he’s more worried his fluttering heartbeat will wake her up.
The source of his panic is the looming shadow leering down at him from the top of the bedposts. He knows it’s not physically there, that it’s most likely just something being cast, but there is no light nearby and he’s not seeing it with his eye. Instead, he sees it within the darkness of the sight he lost, almost like the shadow is reaching out to him. The stories Anya and Tristan told are knocking in his head loudly, clamoring about the Shadow that they were seeing before they too died.
He would move, if Natsuki wasn’t here, if he didn’t want to risk waking up the others for nothing. And he doubts the shadow would even let him move, too ready to claim another victim for itself.
So he shuts his eyes and attempts to drown out the ghostly whispers that echo through the room. Amesh slows his breathing, taking deeper breaths, and focuses on what little touch of Natsuki’s he can feel. His heart refuses to stop jackrabbiting into his throat, but at the very least, his breathing slows and he falls backwards into blissfully horrible sleep.
—
When he wakes up, he's alone. The door to the bathroom is open and he can hear running water, so he assumes Natsuki's only freshening up for the day. He’s glad that she decided to stay with him the night, because like it or not, he’s terrified of what would happen to him if he was alone. He doesn’t try to show it a lot, often playing off his nervousness with jokes and games, but he’s pretty sure that everyone else is figuring out what he’s hiding.
Though, he reconsiders, they’ve all got their own problems too. Natsuki doesn’t tell him, but he’s pretty sure she’s feeling sicker by the day; Spence has been a little more miserable ever since Sandra left; Ilonka spends all of her time wallowing in guilt; and Kevin is turning paler and paler with everything he’s hiding. He’d probably be a little more worried if he didn’t have to worry about the shadow creeping ever so closer.
Inside the bathroom, the water shuts off, and Natsuki emerges, toweling off her hands. “Hey,” she softly greets, quickly crossing the room and pulling him into a kiss. “I didn’t want to wake you up, since you seemed pretty fast asleep.”
“It’s fine,” he lies, all too aware of the shadow’s hand creeping across the bed frame. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters right now.” Truth. “In fact, I think you kissing me made me feel better (lie), so if you kiss me again, maybe I’ll be completely healed.”
She smiles at his antics, but leans in anyways for another kiss.
—
It’s been a week at Brightcliffe. Ilonka wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone anything that happened in that time, too caught up in her guilt from that night.
The others may have said that they forgave her, but that hasn’t stopped all of her fears from popping into her head whenever one of them so much as gives her a lingering glance. She was supposed to be smart, able to know when she was being ensnared in a very clear cult and to know better than to blindly trust someone she didn’t know. And yet, she had almost ingested poisoned tea by Julia Jayne, all because she was too caught up in wanting a normal life again.
She thinks of Kevin, thinks of the kiss they shared, the longing feelings they share in every passing glance and lingering touch. Every part of her is screaming to go to him and to just wrap him up in her arms. But instead, she takes all of her meals in her room, only leaving for the occasional walk around Brightcliffe, avoiding anyone she might come into contact with.
Hours pass, and with each second, she finds herself thinking and overthinking about everything that went wrong, the signs she should’ve seen, the little details that Julia would mention that connected her to the Paragon. The sun rises and sets, and all she does is stare at Anya’s bed, wishing her friend was here to say something to shock her from her stupor, either friendly or harshly real.
A creak outside of the door, followed by a light rapping on it, jolts her from the haze. “Ilonka?” Kevin calls through the door. “Are you coming tonight?” She wipes away tears that she doesn’t remember crying, unfolding stiff limbs that wobble as she moves across the room. Opening the door, she finds him with his hands tucked deeply in his pockets, forehead wrinkled in worry. “Hey!” he exclaims in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d come out. Never responded to anyone and Stanton was starting to get concerned, asking about you at group.”
“Sorry, I’ve just had too much on my mind.” Ilonka apologises. “It’s … been a rough time since Sandra left.”
“Yeah, I know.” Kevin exhales a soft chuckle. “The Midnight Club hasn’t been the same without you there. Any chance we could get your presence today?”
She hesitates on the threshold, rubbing her arm. “You think everyone will be okay with me being there?”
He appears taken a little aback, brow freshly creasing in confusion. “Why?”
“Why? Don’t you remember the shit I’ve done?”
He shrugs. “Look, in the end none of us are hurt. Sure, it’ll probably be a sore topic if you bring it up, but I’m pretty sure everyone’s forgiven you.” Ilonka wants to agree, but something inside of her is just yelling at her to go lie down in bed, curl up, and never move again. “How about … instead of focusing on every little thing that went wrong, and anything that could, you just relax? Like me- ow.” Kevin hisses when his hand slips from the doorframe and his head knocks sharply against it.
“You alright?” She asks, moving to his side, but he waves her off.
“It’s fine,” he mutters, though the way he clutches at the side of his head seems to indicate otherwise.
Ilonka frowns, but knows that if she tries to push the issue, he’d just get frustrated and probably blow her off. “You know what? I’ll come with you.”
Kevin blinks in surprise, then gestures down the hallway. “Well, I think everyone else is already waiting, so…” He grins. “After you, sweetheart.”
The old woman’s decayed face flashes before her eyes, and she gulps. “Is that a new pet name or something? I didn’t recall that we had become official.” She lightly jokes, trying to play off her fear, but his eyes flicker with tension, having clearly caught her moment of panic. He looks a little concerned for her faint look, but she grabs her clear mug and pushes past him.
“Well, I guess we hadn’t quite made it official to the others, but that’s mainly because I wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it.” Kevin reassures. “Also, knowing the others, they probably know already. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.”
He quiets, and soon after they just awkwardly walk in silence. The trek feels like an eternity and yet over in the blink of an eye, and she pushes open the door for him, allowing him to sweep in with a soft chuckle.