unknown / nth — roe / vin | d12

The burn in the lungs that settles after twelve flights of stairs almost offsets the new wariness of the elevator.

Almost.

Roe can feel it under the bandages around his leg, in the twinge still hiding behind the plate of his knee. His mouth tastes metallic by the time they hit the eighth floor and he's leaning on the handrail by the tenth.

He's still sweating too much, chilled despite the fact. The edges of him feel like they're on fire.

Vin follows at his heels, and that's the reason Roe doesn't stop. He hides the way he breathes too heavy, too loud, in the cavernous space above and below them. He might collapse by the time they get to the top. His grip on Vin's fingers swings wildly between to =-tight and barely there.

The door yawns as Roe pushes, same as it ever did.

The difference is inside.

He stops on the threshold as a blank sort of reaction settling over him. It's shouldn't be too surprising - not with the rows of white bunks on the ninth floor and the fingers of the oak trunks on the seventh. It's still strange though. Roe touches the rock wall of the cave and tries to see through the dark.

He swears something shifts across one of the sunken doorways. Something more lateral than a shadow.

He hopes it isn't Marik.

The shadows cast funny as he lifts a lantern from the metal maw, lifting it with one hand while the other still clutches at Vin's.

"You're home." He hears Vin say as they step in, the sound of it echoing down the tunnel and back.

They're making jokes now.

Roe looks over flatly.

"I didn't grow up in a cave."

And then he catches what's in Vin's other hand, carelessly and curiously picked up - dynamite; he swerves the lantern away from it -"Shit. Be careful."

The little gas flame flickers from the movement.

"Don't play with that." He says, nudging the stick further away with their joined hands, "It explodes. Can take your face right off."

He's the kid from the shitty mining district after all, he's home, he should know.

"Put it away somewhere, c'mon," He says impatiently, tugging them further in, "They probably put something good at the end."

There's a lot of shit in here.

Contrary to popular belief, not everyone from Twelve works in the mines. Sure, Roe's known people that have been down there, but he never has.

He's pretty sure its not like this though - spooky and creaking, with something ominous dripping from the ceiling, bits of debris and broken crates scattered around. The air is so still and so silent that it seems suffocating. Heavy, almost. The whole thing's like some sort of terrible caricature.

Roe kicks aside a sack and watches real, actual coal tumble out.

Dimly, he wonders if he should be offended.

"Don't trip."

A breeze trails them down the shaft. Somehow. It's like they've completely left the building, alternate reality, they're somewhere else now. It's the simulation all over again, wet and freezing and the wind. It whistles through the scaffolding and makes their little lantern flicker. Roe shivers.

Hand against his skin - "You're warm." Vin's saying, stretching to reach.

But Roe's cold. His jaw clenches to stop a chatter.

"It's warm in here." He argues instinctively.

He lets go of Vin and puts the lantern down to upturn a fallen minecart, setting it back on its track and peering inside. Coal dust comes away on his hands, staining his fingertips like soot. It's funny how familiar that feels. There's a cigarette burn on the back of his shoulder, long smoothed over by time. Roe rubs his fingers together, watching the ash transfer.

Maybe he really is home.

From further down the darkness, a bird chirps.

Maybe he's just losing his mind.

"D'you hear that?"