Summary:Sam and Illyana are still stick in the dream realm called Liveworld and end up running from some of their nightmares. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It turns out that sleep doesn't come so easy when you're in a Dream Realm. Or maybe it was the rain puddling inside the cave. Or the tight, uncomfortable confines of the cave. Whatever it was, neither of the mutants slept very well.
The next few days the pair work on putting together some rudimentary shelter and figuring out a food situation. Illyana has never really refused to eat anything that Sam would have seen, and the fact that she'll eat just about anything if she needs to has probably become abundantly clear. She doesn't even seem phased about it.
On the upside, the realm doesn't tend towards radical shifts. The mountains and the jungle seem to be fairly constant, so they don't need to worry about waking up inside a tree or something.
It's several days later now and Illyana's building up the fire a bit as twilight sets in when a voice calls out faintly. "Hello? Hellooooo!?" Illyana lifts her head up, looking about. The voice sounds familiar to Sam.
Sam Guthrie had been trying to make some makeshift packs out of some of the foliage, stretching it out and seeing if he can remove some of the excess leaves. Nothing too fancy, but it would help if they actually managed to build up some supplies and needed to move on short notice.
"Who's there?" he calls out, gesturing for Illyana to stay by the fire and moving to the mouth of the cave himself, eyes narrowed as he looks into the wild.
Illyana Rasputina stays where she started, though she reaches out for the long branch she's got to serve as a makeshift staff. She's been unable to summon her own Soulstaff while she's been here, and trying has been painful.
From the treeline a young woman steps out. Built tall and lean with shortish brown hair, there's no way that Sam wouldn't recognize his sister. Her clothes are dirty and a bit torn, but she doesn't look too much worse for wear. Giving a sigh of relief to see him, she rushes towards him. "Sam! There you are! We've been so worried."
Sam feels the immediate relief of seeing his sibling, taking a few steps forward in his own right, "Paige?!? What…what're you doin' he…?" he says and then the words die on his lips before he's finished. Illyana had prepared him for this, somewhat, but he didn't know it would be so…
"She's not real, is she?" he says, looking back at Illyana.
Illyana Rasputina wraps her hands around the staff in front of her, leaning a shoulder into it as she stares out of the cave. The blonde shakes her head. "Probably not? But I can't be positive. It *might* be." And that's the worst part, isn't it?
Paige slows down as she hears Sam's words and he looks towards Illyana. "What do you mean, I'm not real? I'm right in front of you, Sam Guthrie! I came all this way to save you an' you're gonna go bein' ungrateful about it!" Complains the younger Guthrie with a small stomp of her foot. "Now you gonna come with me or not?"
Sam regards the phantom of his sister for a long moment, "How'd you get here, then? You suddenly join SHIELD when I weren't lookin'? Ain't in your power to come on your own, I know that much…" he says.
"I can't trust this world. Or anything I see in it. All I got is Illyana right now. The rest is…dreams," he says. "You want trust, you have to earn it - no matter who you look like.
The girl, be it sister or phantom, it's impossible to be sure looks insulted. "What? I don't got friends of my own that can't help me out? You're gonna take the witchy girl over your own blood?" She gestures past Sam where Illyana hasn't moved.
There are new sounds from the trees now, though still distant. Snarls and snapping and eerie, high-pitched laughter. That gets Illyana's attention and she moves around the fire to join Sam. "That's a demon hunting party." She warns him.
Sam nods, "Great. Cause that's really what we needed," he says. He looks levelly at Paige, "My sister would know that insulting my friends ain't a really good way to get me to go along with her on anythin'. And I know most o' Paige's friends and ain't none of 'em much in the way of dimension hoppers, last I checked."
He goes back into the cave and grabs the makeshift napsacks he'd almost finished, "Guess this'll have to be close enough," he says.
The snapsnarling comes closer. Because of course it does. Paige looks over her shoulder, looking worried now. "Sam? Sam, what's that sound?"
"The timing is *awesome*." Illyana says with sarcasm, as the world shifts towards full-dark. "Maybe we need to work really hard on visualizing a castle that can keep out baddies." Yeah, like that'll happen.
A pack of demons breaks through the treeline and Paige screams, turning away from them and running for Sam. "Sam! Help me! Sam!"
He can't pretend this is nothing. Consciously, he knows that's not Paige. He's spent days talking with Illyana about possibilities, things the realm might try to use against him. Still, having it there, so vivid, so real. His sister crying out for his help. Doing nothing felt like a sin. It felt like a betrayal
He grabs Illyana with tears literally starting to leak from the corners of his eyes, "Let's go," he says huskily and there's a flare of power as he fires up his blast field to carry them away.
Illyana Rasputina loops an arm around Sam's neck, grabbing hold of him as he prepares to take off. Her expression is concerned as she watches him without saying anything. Her attention to him doesn't likely make it any easier for the Kentucky boy as he starts to blast off and take them away from the demons.
"SAM!" Paige shrieks below him, screaming again and again, terrified, before the sounds of demon's claws and teeth rending flesh mutes her pleas, and the pair are far enough away not to hear sick wet snap and slurp as the hunting party feasts.
Illyana brings her other arm up and around Sam's shoulders and then turns her head into his neck as she hugs him tightly, trying to offer him some shred of reassurance.
He manages to cry quietly, but she can't mistake the shudder that runs through his body. The sob of it. He knows it's not real. He knows it's not real. But that was still her voice, her voice. Her crying out for him in agony and fear.
When they get enough distance, he lands carefully and just falls to his knees, covering his face with his hands, "God damn this place," he whispers.
Illyana Rasputina manages to catch herself on her feet as Sam lands, mostly because she's got some experience riding with him, but as he falls to his knees she's left to watch his pain. His agony. She can't help but think what it would be like to loose Piotr in such a manner. Her love of her own sibling is perhaps the strongest bond she has.
Slipping to her knees next to Sam, she's uncertain for a bit before putting an arm over him. In Limbo, Sam's display of emotion would be a weakness, and doing anything less than exploiting it would be seen as a weakness in Illyana. Trying to comfort him is just not in her culture. But if she had lost Piotr, would she want to stand alone with her rage and her pain?
Illyana doesn't even really know what to say, and so perhaps that's why she says the most useless thing in trying to lessen his pain. "I'm sorry."
He manages to pull himself together, shaking it off. Like most Midwesterners, showing emotion wasn't particularly part of his culture either. Only because they had struck so deep, at the people he cared about most, did they cut through his bravado and his calm exterior.
"Ain't your fault. In fact, pretty definitely mine," he sighs. "I know it's all tricks and lies. I know that weren't really Paige back there," he says, his Kentucky drawl coming through a bit stronger, "But it could be real. It ain't so hard to imagine I could lead demons back to my family's door, doin' what we do, fightin' how we fight. It's definitely one of my worst nightmares. This place knows what it's doin'."
Even though Sam pulls himself back together, Illyana keeps holding onto him. "Mine, too." She admits. "That the demons I'm supposed to be ruling will kill those I care about." Or in this case, the family of those she cares about. Her fingers comb through Sam's short hair for a moment and she finally moves to let him go.
'Sorry' isn't something that Illyana says… well, just about ever, really. Most people don't notice that, though. Sam isn't the only one the dream realm is pushing the limits of.
He takes her hand in his and squeezes firmly. He notices, even if he's not going to call attention to it. That she cares. THat she wants to look out for him. Even though he's the reason they're trapped here in the first place.
"If that's their first attempt, I'm a little worried what they'll try next. I guess my Mama, maybe. Only other person I can imagine would hit me any harder than that," he says.
"We need to find a new place to camp, I guess."
For Illyana, loosing Piotr would definitely hurt more than loosing her parents. That's an old wound for her. She squeezes Sam's hand in return as they get to their feet and look around. "I swear, half this place's tactics seems to be running us into the ground." Food and water has been OK, but sleep has been hard to get and grooming… well, that's not so much a thing. Illyana has tied her hair back into a braid to keep it from tangling up.
As the start off to look for a new shelter, a stepping disk opens off to the side. A two-dimensional circle of light. Waiting. Illyana's gone very still. "I didn't do that."
Sam watches it carefully, "THen it's probably nothing good," he says. He moves to stand next to her, waiting to see just what comes through to approach them.
Being tired is rough, but it's nothing new for Sam. He's worked every day of his life, sometimes from sun up to sundown and past it. If they thought they were going to wear him down that way, they were in for a rude awakening.
"Who's there?" he calls again.
The disk stands there. Silent. Waiting. Illyana licks her lips and looks up at Sam. "What if it's the way home?" Her hand creeps up to lock around the dark metal of the collar. "The Anchor won't let me cross, but… you might be able to get back home."
He shakes his head, "I'm not going anywhere without you," he says. "Simple as that. Like you said, you didn't do that. Anybody coming to rescue us would try to give us a signal to know that we were being rescued. So that, as Tom Hardy said so well in Mad Max…is bait."
While part of Illyana is glad not to be left alone in a realm by herself again, the other part can't help but think that Sam's being dumb for not taking the chance to go home. And that's the part that's looking up at him now. She opens her mouth to… she's not sure what. Tell him to take the chance to get home? When something finally steps through.
It's a figure that Illyana knows all too well, but Sam has only maybe heard the name of. A tall man with red skin dressed in Victorian style attire and missing one arm. He has glowing white eyes, horns, fangs, and a tail. "There you are, my apprentice." He says with a nasty smile. "Your friends thought that they should come and say hello. So I brought them."
Around them, more portals start to open, more figures stepping through. A short metal skeleton with long claws that extend from each hand. Her brother Piotr in his metal form, shambling forward like a zombie with the bands of his chest peeled back to expose the missing heart within. A feline woman with claws and fangs and tail in a black one-piece, her head on backwards. A white-haired old woman with dark skin and a bloody smile around her throat.
Illyana turns around, as each portal disgorges another nightmare into the clearing. Her breathing has gone quick and fast, jaw tightening. Even knowing that it's probably not *really* Belasco doesn't make it any better. And if anyone *was* going to take advantage of her being so weakened, it would be her former Master.
Sam Guthrie shakes his head and steps in front of Illyana, as if he could shield her from the sight. He doesn't fully understand the people, the creature, that he's seeing, but he understands enough. Especially when he sees Piotr in chains.
"It's not real, Illyana. No more than my sister was. They just want to frighten you. They just wanna make you hurt. Whatever this is, whatever they are, it ain't real," he says.
Illyana Rasputina's hand grips the back of Sam's waistband as he steps in front of her and the laugh she gives has the edge of hysteria. "No." She agrees. "They're not real." Her voice cracks at that. "Because they're already dead. Get us out of here." She says thickly, stepping in closer to him to hold on, burying her face in his shirt. He can hear her chanting to herself, trying to influence the realm. She can do it with Limbo, surely something of that can help her here, right? "Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…"
He embraces her fully, wrapping both arms around her and giving a bit of a snarling stare to those phantoms again before the blast field wraps around them and they're carried away. He goes up first, high in the air, getting some distance before he aims them downwards, finally descending towards what looks like a river along a somewhat verdant valley.
When they land, Illyana heads to the water, stumbling a bit before falling down to her knees, hard. Her hands splash in the water and she stares at her rippling reflection before scooping up a handful and splashing her face. Her cheeks are flushed and she… looks nothing like the usual cool, snarky woman that puts so many people on edge.
Sam joins her, washing his face, pulling off his shirt and splashing himself generally. It's hot, a contrast to the cold of not so long ago. This place was impossible. "I'm sorry," he says. "We'll find a way out. A real way out. We just have to help each other with all these…attacks," he says. "I wish they would just attack. It would feel good to hit something."
"Your 'happy thoughts' suck." Illyana says, trying for some levity as she continues to stare down at her warped reflection for a long moment before sitting back on the river bank and looking over to Sam as he splashes himself.
"Belasco doesn't control the stepping disks. That's my thing." Illyana works on picking apart the flaws in the Dream. But the other images. Those were memories. Nightmares. As real as they'll ever be again.
Sam nods, slicking his hair back and sitting on the edge of the river. "I'm optimistic, but it ain't the same as cheerful. I ain't the type to lie to you. This sucks. But I'm glad I at least have you. Not that you should be here, you shouldn't, it's my fault, I only mean that you make it easier. Which isn't fair, cause you're all locked up and it's…"
He sighs and shakes his head, "Yeah, you're right, I should just shut up."
Illyana Rasputina reaches down to work the buckles on her boots free, dumping them off to the side. While it's hot, and she's dirty, she feels unclean on a deeper level. One water isn't likely to be able to wash away, but one can hope, right?
"I like that you don't lie to me. Most people, it's the first thing they say to me. 'Pleasure to meet you', and you see the fear or distaste in their eyes." Illyana strips off her socks and then pulls off her shirt before standing up. She doesn't really care that Sam's right there. "And I'd rather be here with you than you stuck by yourself, Sam. I've been there." She blows out a sigh. "You just saw what happens when I'm alone…"
Sam Guthrie nods, "Yeah. I see. Must've been hard for you. You've been alone an awful long time,' he says softly. "I'll be there for you anytime you need. Long as you need," he says softly. He doesn't express more than that, although there seems to be something there in those clear blue eyes. He blushes when her shirt comes off, turning that gaze down then.
"I know I'm glad I met you. Hope you can say the same when all this mess is said and done."
Stripped down to just her underwear, Illyana wades into the water. When it gets deep enough, she ducks down so she can submerge her head, staying down as she tries to let that water wash away some of her stirred-up emotions.
When she resurfaces, the blonde wipes her face down and looks across the water at the flushed Sam. "I'm not going to blame you for this, Sam. I made my own choice, I always do. And even if I *knew* it was a trap? I wouldn't let you come alone." Because he's right. She has been alone an awful long time.
"But you're an optimist, right? So keep thinking of us getting out of here. That's gotta be of some help in a place light this, right?" Illyana guesses, lingering neck-deep in the water.
Sam strips down, too, until he's in his boxer briefs, going and dipping into the water as well. He dives underneath, holding his breath, closing his eyes, just letting the feeling of being submerge make him feel a little bit better. A little bit more alive when he comes up and takes in a sharp breath.
"I believe we'll get out," he says, floating a bit closer to her. "And I know you don't blame me. I just…" he says, hesitating again, "I want you to more than just…not be mad at me. I kinda want you to like me…"
Illyana Rasputina rubs her hands down her arms and legs, trying to rinse away some of the grime of the past few days. It's not a bath, but it's at least clean water. Oh, how she misses her bath back in Limbo…
As though conjured by that brief desire a hazy, dream-like image forms. Nothing like the life-like ones they've been dealing with. These clearly aren't real. It's a pair of figures, one huge and the other small with dark hair in an amorous embrace as steam rises off the surface of the water. The figures look almost familiar to Illyana… and then they fade back away. She shakes her head, frowning in confusion before looking over to Sam as he floats over to her. "Did you see that?"
A shake of her head. Not that it matters, right? Her frown tilts into a smirk and she arches a brow at him. "I *did* tell you you were moving in with me." She points out to him, and then her amusement slides to concern. "I'm not going to want you to leave when we get out." She assures him.
He does see it, startled for a moment and flushing a bit at the brief and steamy implication of it, shaking his head, "I…yeah, I did," he admits. He puts an arm around her shoulder, a little protective again and ready to fly off if things suddenly turn hostile again.
"I know you did. BUt I didn't know what…I mean, you moved in with Doug, too, remember?" he says. "And I know you like Doug. And I know you like me. But I want you to…" he sighs, "I want you to like me the way I like you, which is more than just…god damn, I sound like a little kid."
When Sam puts his arm around her in case they need to blast off, the water makes it easy to pull her up against him. Running. They've gotten damned good at it lately. But how long can they keep it up? And no matter where they run, they're still *there*.
"I was thinking about my bath back in Limbo and then… that kind of looked like it but that wasn't me." The woman was smaller, but it's the dark hair that made it really clear that wasn't Illyana.
Illyana turns towards Sam as he starts to babble a bit. She reaches up, water dripping from her hand as she reaches up to push some of his damp hair off of his brow as her pale blue gaze searches his eyes. His face. Her manner is still more serious than it usually is, and has been almost the whole time they've been stuck here. "I've never spent time around little kids." She reminds him. Piotr was much older than she was, growing up. And then she was stuck in Limbo. "So to me you just sound like Sam."
Illyana's voice comes from the river bank, where they clothes are. "Come on now, Sammy-boy, just spit it out." It's Illyana's voice but darkly mocking. Almost cutting. Certainly not her usual teasing humor. And the figure on the bank doesn't look like the Illyana that Sam would know, though the figure definitely has her face. With glowing white eyes, fangs and horns. Long legs that bend the wrong way lead to furred legs and hooves that dip into the river. The spade tip of a red tail flicks off to the side.
Sam Guthrie finds that figure both frightening and enticing, lingering on it for a moment before pushing his eyes back to Illyana. He lays his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks and laying his forehead against hers. "Hell with it. I dunno how to ask you out," he finally admits allowed. "I can't just take ya to dinner and a movie. We've been through too much, we're too…we're already a part of each others lives. Hell, we're living together. But it's always been friends. Just friends. And I guess this is me sayin'…I wanna be more than friends. It's okay if you don't. But you should know."
Illyana Rasputina's head turns as well when that demonic dream-image of her appears, going a bit pale. She doesn't have a chance to say anything to it, or about it, before Sam is dismissing it. Obviously, she hasn't left his arm so he knows that it's not real. Her eyes meet his, so very close as he rests his brow against hers and her hands wrap about his wrists loosely as he cups her cheeks.
"Dating?" Illyana's laugh is forced and a bit nervous. "I don't know how to date." It's honest and bitter at the same time. Her gaze slips to the side, over to that too-real version of her. "I'm too much demon to give up something once I have it."
He grins, "I guess I'm just a bit too country to know exactly what that means. I don't like the word either. Dating. Sounds like something out of a fifties TV show," he says. "I wanna kiss you. How 'bout that? That be a good start?" he says. And then he does just that, putting aside his doubts and, in the moment, just kissing the girl he likes right on the mouth. Consequences be damned.
Illyana Rasputina might have replied with something, but then Sam is leaning in to kiss her. It shouldn't be too much of a shock. He said he wanted to do it and then did it, right? But he can feel that nervous surprise anyway in the way she's still against him until her lips part for his.
But while Illyana's been silenced, it seems her doppleganger is still there. Since Sam's decided to ignore her, this time the Darkchilde's words are for Illyana. Well, *to* Illyana. They're still definitely for Sam. "Will he want to be more when he finds out you killed your best friend so you could live?"
He lingers his mouth against Illyana's almost to spite that devil, breaking it off, "I know that I can't trust anything from your mouth. I know that there's enough germ of truth - enough of it, at least, to hurt Illyana. And that's all you wanna do. Hurt her. Drive me away. Whatever there is to tell me, she'll tell me when she feels ready. She's earned my trust, plenty of times over," he says.
He does look at the demon then, the dark side of her soul, "So why don't you go…suck an egg?"
Illyana Rasputina shivers. At the Darkchilde's words or Sam's kiss, it might not be entirely clear. When he talks about her having earned his trust, her hold on his wrists tightens.
"Demons don't lie." It's a bit sing-song, a response to his statement about not being able to believe her. Then the Darkchilde gives a low laugh at Sam's reply. "Well, we always knew you weren't the most creative, but you've definitely got some stones on you, hmm?" Her words end in a bit of a purr. "Just remember, Sammy, she warned you. Demons don't give up their toys. Even if they don't want anything to do with them anymore, no one else can have their either."
That finally sparks Illyana to action, letting go of Sam's wrists and pulling away enough to face that version of herself. "I can be human, too!"
The Darkchilde *laughs* at that. "Oh, you play at it. Keeping your darkness away from them like a dirty secret. Keeping *me* away. Weren't you the one telling your friend he needed to accept what he was?" She shifts position then, from lounging to standing and wading into the water towards the pair of them. "Like you do?" The Darkchilde mocks Illyana.
He knows this is Illyana's fight but if he's to be more to her than just a friend, he has to act like it. He stands next to her, staring down the Darkchilde with his own fierce gaze. He takes Illyana's hand in his, under the water.
"She gets to decide," he says, "That's what makes you mad. She can embrace the parts of herself she wants. She can grow and she can change. She can learn. You demons, you can't help but be what you are. You're like robots. Soulless. Empty."
When Sam takes her hand, Illyana looks up at him, pale gaze searching his face as she listens even as the Darkchilde comes closer. Finally, her mouth sets into a line and her hand tightens in his as she looks back to the funhouse mirror of herself.
"And while my soul is touched by darkness, I still *have* my soul." Illyana says, firm in that at least. She reaches out to grab the Darkchilde by the throat, the demonic woman doing the same to Illyana. The clawed fingers of that version leaves bloody scratches behind. "You are not my dream, or my nightmare. You are simply me."
The Darkchilde starts to fade into dream like whisps, while Illyana's form shifts. Sam can feel the clawed nails that grow from the hand in his. Now only the Darkchilde stands, and it is Illyana.
Sam Guthrie does not shrink from her. He can't, not after what they just went through, not after the words he just said. And he doesn't want to. In truth, he's not afraid of her. Whatever she looks like, whatever her past, whatever she's been through, he knows Illyana.
He keeps his hand in hers, fingers laced against those claws and he lifts it up slowly out of the water and kisses the back of her hand.
"And you're the one I want. All of you," he says softly.
Illyana Rasputina turns to look at Sam as he kisses her hand, her glowing white eyes giving away nothing as to what she might be feeling. She brings her other hand up and cups his cheek, her thumb sliding along the line of his cheekbone, the tip of that clawed nail so very close to his eyes. And then the demonic parts of her melt away like the dream they're trapped in and leaves just the woman he's gotten to know.
"Can I go on record as having warned you this is a terrible idea?" Illyana says, with some measure of her usual sarcastic humor.
Sam Guthrie cocks his head and ponders, "Well, I guess I can put it down in the official record, although I don't seem to have my phone on me at the moment. We'll just have to put a pin in it for later. But that's okay. Long as we're willin' to stick with each other through it, I think we'll survive," he grins.
And yeah, he's going to kiss her again, because that's what you do in these kinda situations.
There will likely be many, many instances in the future for Illyana to mock Sam as a silly country bumpkin over this. But not today. She wraps one arm around Sam's shoulders as he kisses her again. She'll mock him after they make it out of this damned dream.