A/N: this came to me after the most recent episode. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sym-Bionic Titan.
His nightmares had been preyed upon, the demons springing free from the hidden and tortured depths of his dark, aching mind. They had hunted him, threatened him, touched him, ripped him. He couldn't imagine how things had gotten that far along, but he knew these terrifying nightmares had to end before they got too far out of hand.
The demons had escaped without his consent. He had been so sick of seeing them whenever he closed his eyes, never knowing the full truth what lay behind his father's death.
That's why he became such a brutal fighter. He had been so intent on finding a way to battle it out, to avenge his father, that he had no idea what lay behind the cold secrets and discreet truth. His anger was his tool. His craving for vengeance was a deadly weapon. His nightmares drove him harder than any other could've ever been pressed.
He was afraid of never knowing the truth. Behind his Report me I am Spammingnal of defenses, he was as weak as anyone else. He had his depression as a looming shadow. He had pain that had shattered his heart to pieces of nothingness. He knew so little, his lack of knowing making him try even harder.
Yes, he was just like everyone else, his agonizing days filled with more pain that ran through his veins, still never knowing the truth and only seeing the death in the empty realm of his nightmares and the cold truth of his daydreams. He was tortured every second with wondering and a writhing mind.
But yet, his subconscious fought it all, telling him he was normal. Telling him was all it could do. It could never gain full proof or get his father back. He could only look through the long days and see that he had lost something dear to him, something he never wanted to see again.
Through restless nights, he saw it. That's why he ran while the moon was out. He drove away his nightmares by running from them. He couldn't sleep. He wouldn't have to if he didn't try. He never had to sleep.
He didn't want to. Especially with his nightmares getting worse. Especially with his new nightmares.
He could see her trapped in a ring of flames, unable to suit up. She hung there in the air, scared senseless for her life, able to see him and cry out uselessly as he was held back from the demons, doomed to watch her die by the fists of killers who would never understand how thoroughly their torture dug into the inner caverns of his soul.
He watched the flames lick their way up her long dress, hearing her fearful cries. He saw the tears racing down her cheeks, falling down as her legs were burned. And then the fire worked it's way up to her torso, eating her alive as she screamed and cried and begged for mercy.
He remained unable to help, held back despite his anxious struggles. Claws dug into his back whenever he tried to move. Eventually, they hit his spinal cord and he lost all connection with his legs. He crumpled to his knees, his eyes cast downward until he found the ounce of courage he needed to look up at her.
The flames were eating at her face, touching her in places that made him scream. He could see the inside of her chest, her heart still fiercely beating, fighting for life as she was swallowed with flames. Snarls ripped from him and he kept thrashing despite the immense amounts of pain that the claws induced to his already crippled body.
Her face was turning a smokey and charred black and as the tips of it were nibbling at her hair, he saw her heart stop, the battle over, her life taken.
The demons released him, the fire dying after it had finished it's meal. And he pulled himself to go be closer to her, to hold her quiet body in it's viciously burned state. He saw her eyes still wide open, those dark orbs still so much alive, still holding so much fear.
His normally calm demeanor was broken, a breach in the armor of defenses he had put up around himself and a tear slid down his cheek as he quietly leaned over her in his broken body, moving his fingers over her eyelids and pulling them down. He didn't want to see the pain held there any longer.
These new nightmares haunted his every moment. They engulfed his every thought just as the fire had engulfed her. He couldn't bear the pain. Every morning, he woke up and found it relieving to find out that he could still stand and that it was all just another nightmare.
He ran from them. He ran for his life at night, running from the demons that held him back from everything; the demons that held him back from the truth.
Maybe the truth about his father was too painful to bear; but what of the truth about her? What could he ever make of these new nightmares? What of his emotions were beholden in those? He felt the pain, so real, so terrifying. Yet he felt a strong pull to her, almost magnetic. He was always compelled to use his arms to drag himself towards her even though he knew very well she was dead and gone, her soul already vanishing into the dark abyss of the night.
What were these nightmares telling him?
One morning, Lance woke up to find Ilana standing over him, shaking him worriedly and talking animatedly about how he was thrashing in his bed as if he were fighting off all of the Mutraddi's army at once. When Lance's heart had stopped racing and his head had ceased it's incessant throbbing, he stared up into her dark eyes, very much alive and knowing her heart was still beating. Lance let out a long sigh of relief. It would always be another nightmare, nothing more than just that. Ilana would always be safe when he woke up in the morning. That was all Lance needed.
A/N: R&R and thanks for reading.