Chapter Text
The nights - and days - that they spend sleeping in the van aren't unusual, exactly. They're all away from home most of the time, and when you're on a mission, it's better to stay in one place so when you wake up you can immediately continue the investigation. And even while hiding you have to sleep, at least enough to keep you focused and wary.
Even then, maybe nights isn't the best word for it. A couple of hours at best; always in shifts and broken by nervous, almost paranoid sense of something is going to get me, I can't close my eyes, I can't, I can't, I can't.
But that's sometimes.
Today is not that.
Today, Xande wakes to warmth and a sense of safety. There's a leg on his stomach, a head on his neck and something digging painfully into his side- probably not the best for his body, nor comfortable, but safe nonetheless.
It's quiet, even with the low music coming out of his headphones; only half on top of his ears. The car engine isn't on- obviously, and the streets outside seem peaceful as well. Quiet. Almost perfectly quiet.
Xande takes a breath. He feels… drifty. But it's fine. Familiar, even. He tries to focus on feeling, but all there is is sore muscles and needles on his arms and a heavy head and fuzziness inside his mind. That one isn't fine.
He breathes. Slowly, cracks open his eyes, destroying all hopes of falling asleep again.
(Why is he up, again?)
The stickers and posters on the roof of the van stare back at him, even if he cannot see them that well in the dark. He's so tired. He's exhausted. Why…
A second passes. Maybe more.
Xande…
God, he can't stand the silence.
He reaches his hands up to his head (heavy, he's so tired) and readjusts his headphones; too quiet, still too silent, he can't think and everything is too much and it's so quiet-
Hands patting down his body, all around- where is it, where, he needs to turn the volume up-
Something moves. Right next to him. It brushes against his neck- against his face. Why can it touch his face, where's his mask, why isn't it there?
He doesn't waste time on thinking. In battle, there's no time to freeze; he got out of that habit a long time ago. A second can be all there is.
Xande moves. It's not the most graceful- it's full of panic and too fast, too sloppy, probably won't hurt whatever is next to him, just get him a second to get away, but it's something.
He did not use a ritual, but time seems to slow down anyway. There's a fleeting thought- wasn't someone sleeping on me? but it gets lost as he throws himself back, headphones flying off just as gasps and a yell penetrate the air.
He hits something. Or maybe something hits him, because once again, something moving is touching him; he's dead, they're all surrounding him, he's done for, there's no way to go-
He tries anyway.
A yell. Is it him doing that? He doesn't know. Everything's wrong and something is holding him down; maybe hands, maybe claws, maybe something else all together.
He tries. Attempts a punch, rolling away, trashing-
He tries.
But then- “Xande! Xan- Look at me! Xande, come on!”
Guizo.
He knows Guizo; if he is here then…It must be- fine…? No. No, that's not…
He has never actually seen a creature that can mimic people- but it's possible. Is it taunting him? Is this a person doing this? A monster?
No. He's not safe. It's not fine.
It's not safe. He's going to die. Something is holding him down and there's no way to escape and he's going to die.
But it feels… Fuzzy.
Not good fuzzy. Just the kind that makes everything feel awful and black blobs take over his vision.
Something shouts. (Someone?) There's noise and not the good kind of noise- but it doesn't really matter. Xande can't hear it anyway. Just… is aware, idly, in the back of his mind that something is happening.
And then… the claws (hands?) leave and he's free and still alive and needs to get out-
His mouth opens. He has to scream for help. Someone- someone must be near. Dara, Guizo- wasn't he just here? What happened to him? Dead? Is he dead? All that comes out is a wheeze, though. There's no air. I can't breathe.
He can… he can work with that. No, it's okay. It's okay.
Subconsciously, he feels his head thud hard against something. Right, he's moving. Focus on escaping first- everything else comes after. His back is stopped by something, but he has no time to think about how to efficiently do this. There's a low ceiling, a corner; a place to hide. All he needs.
Noise again- bad noise, but then, but then-
He hears it. Quiet at first, but then louder and louder- drumming and familiar bass, and- that's his music. Music he knows, something safe.
His hands suddenly hit something- dangerous, danger again- but no, that's just his headphones. He knows their shape like nothing else in the world. He closes his hands on them, and he brings them closer; pushing them onto his face. They don't fit on his ears, not when he's trying to hide himself in the corner, but the music is loud, loud enough for him to hear it even without putting them directly onto his head.
And then-
He's not sure.
Breathing gets a bit easier. He… thinks.
He blinks. Once. Twice. A couple times more.
Next time he can actually focus on anything- he sees him. Guizo. Worried, but fine. Not hurt. At least, not in a way that he can notice immediately.
“Gui.”
He breathes. It hurts. Breathing too fast, that's called hyperventilating, he knows that-
”Gui.”
He doesn't care. If Guizo is here and fine; everything must be good. Safe, at the very least. So he lunges out. Guizo hisses in pain. Xande’s nails dig into his skin; he knows it's painful, Guizo always says that. But how can he care? How can he care, when Guizo is here, and they're surrounded by-
…what were they surrounded by, again?
…
Doesn't matter.
He clings to Guizo, digs his hands into the clothes- is he okay, is he hurt?
“Xande- Hey, man, hey, you're alright. What's going on?”
Xande shakes his head. He raises his head, looks Gui up and down- there's no blood on his clothes, no sight of any wounds; if it's not something internal, he's probably fine.
Shaking it again- it's not alright, it's not- he realizes his headphones are gone again. But he doesn't want to let go of Guizo…
He stays still. Considers. It doesn't feel as if he's under a ritual, but still, Guizo seems to think for him. Faster than usually. He reaches somewhere behind Xande, and comes back with the headphones.
…That's better.
The music immediately makes his shoulders drop. It's fine. It's fine now. He's okay.
Xande takes a breath. He coughs- too much air, there's no mask to stop it; which is…
He doesn't know. His head is spinning.
Guizo places the headphones on his ears. Not like they were on before; he positions them perfectly. The music itself is a bit too loud now that it's blasting directly into his ears- but it's alright. Good.
But- no, it's not fine. There was something in here with them. The anxiety grips him by the throat- Guizo's here, but where is everyone else? Chico? Is Lírio okay? Is Dara?
He searches the room with frantic eyes, desperate to find something. Blood, a body of a human or an alien- anything at all. Instead, he finds… something familiar.
His pauses, just for a split second, but it's enough for his brain to ring the alarm bells; can't stay still, can't freeze, you have to move.
Guizo is here, though. He cannot see anything important, no danger, not the way he is, but Guizo probably did. If he could just make sure...
“...no. You're okay. You know what's going on? We're just in the van. Just sleeping, remember?” Guizo beats him to it. He shuffles closer and puts his hands on Xande's shoulders as he speaks. “We're all safe. In the van. Just sleeping. You got that?”
Xande… thinks so. Still, he looks over Guizo's shoulders, again, just to be safe, and… Finds the van. Sees Lírio and Chico, taking glances in his direction and back at each other. Dara, more closely, anxiously peeking from behind Guizo. In her hand there's-
Oh God. His hands fly up to his face, whacking Guizo in the process, but it doesn't matter because his mask is gone. It's not on. He feels his lungs ache, feels his heart stop- where is it?, no, he knows where it is, he just needs it on, he needs it-
He doesn't see Dara getting closer. Just knows that one moment Guizo is in front of him and the next he's gone, and Dara is here and she has the mask and…
It's hard to get it on with the headphones in place, but someone… someone helps him, he feels hands, and then it's on and everything must be fine if it is.
Xande breathes. He feels the cold air, but not too much of it enters through his nose; everything is perfect again, it's good, it's fine.
He breathes and inhales and exhales and…
Everything hurts. Not just his muscles- the back of his head throbs with pain and his chest feels tight and he's so uncomfortable, but-
Dara is here. She always makes everything better.
She goes to touch him; looks somewhere behind him and pauses, only to grip his hand anyway. She starts speaking and Xande has to focus on her mouth- he can only hear half of what she says, with how loud the music is. That could be easily solved; he likes to hear Dara speak and the knob to turn the music down is right next to him, but… No. He won't. Not now.
“Are you alright? Are you- hurt, anywhere?” She looks him up and down, worried, and he…
He'd probably enjoy this more in any other situation. But now everything still feels wrong and a bit far away. Like he's not fully here.
Xande raises his hand. Watches as Dara's hand, still gripping his, follows. Speaking seems like an impossible task right now- he only places their hands on his chest, where the heart beats fast and lungs still ache with every breath.
There's a pause. He… thinks some more; everything hurts, but that's nothing Dara can help with.
“Chest.” Dara says, slow and weak, after a moment. When he focuses on her again (why did he look away? when?) she's looking behind him again, lips pulled into a thin line. “How about- your head?”
Dara isn't reaching out to check it. That's… weird. That's weird, right? Normally, she checks all of the injuries as fast as she can, and only then starts treating. She should be reaching out. He… thinks, at least.
But, yes, head. He hit his head, didn't he? The usual hurting coming from inside can't be helped, at least not by whatever Dara can give him. But… the throbbing from behind. That's probably something that's not supposed to happen naturally.
Xande nods. “...yeah. I did, yeah.”
He's… pretty sure he has to move. If Dara is to check his head one of them has to move, but he doesn't want to. Here, with Dara in front of him and holding his hand… Why should he move, really? He feels fine. It hurts less than a fall from a skateboard.
“Show me?”
…he can't argue with that, can he?
He takes another moment before moving. He doesn't want to, but Dara does and so he will. Only… How?
Dara squeezes his hand. Xande… Slowly, Xande leans himself down from where he was sitting. He lets go of her hand and crosses both his arms across his chest; rests his forehead on Dara's lap and lays half on his hands and half on her legs.
“Oh.”
With eyes closed and the way he's laying, he can't see Dara or what she does- but he feels the exact moment her hands gently part his hair anyway. They're soft and so gentle and Dara and everything he has ever wanted.
But… he's also tired. Now that he's laying, he knows that trying to stand up without assistance wouldn't probably work. And if Dara were to treat him… He wouldn't need to move, would he? So…
…Surely nobody would mind if he… drifted. Just for a moment. Took a little rest.
…Yeah.
That sounds nice.