awaken, my love / avriel [88th]

He becomes aware only because there is no pain.

Feeling drifts in slowly, washing against him, gentle, smooth, like the tide on the lake. He's aware briefly of a feather-light touch on his cheek and then it is gone again.




There are footsteps.

They stop at the end of his bed and wait there. He waits with them, patient, drifting, asleep in the canoe under a starless sky. The footsteps approach, a coolness, two fingers, soft on his lips, gentle, gentle, gentle, then nothing at all. The footsteps leave him, he listens as they recede, follows the echo until he is alone.




A soft rattling, a low, mournful call and his brow furrows, lost. He can't find the kodama through the trees even though it sounds like it's right beside him. His mouth opens, "..." no sound comes out.




"Av, wake up"

His left hand slowly clenches into a fist at his side, muscles stretching, pulling at stitches. Then, Avriel's eyes open for the briefest of moments before he squeezes them shut again. "Merde," he whispers hoarsely and then coughs. His throat is dry, dryer than he's ever known it to be.

It's too bright, he can't even see because it's so bright. His eyes sting so he places a hand over them and opens them like that. He moves slowly, blinking beneath the cover of his hand as tears slip down his cheeks from the pain, and then eventually, he lets his hand fall away.

He is alone.

Then comes a rattling so intense that the table beside his bed moves with it. Avriel turns stiffly and sees the kodama sitting on the edge, head bobbing up and down, light pulsating with what he can only interpret as joy.

"Oh," he says, "Is this allowed?"

He didn't know he'd get to keep it.

"I- what should I call you?" he asks it.

The kodama stands, bends its knees and shakes for a long moment, then makes the jump over the short gap from the table to the bed. Avriel watches it, limbs heavy as it tugs up the covers and crawls beneath. After a few moments, it pops it's head back out and then beckons for him.

It's always trying to lead him somewhere.

"Scout," he says after a moment, "Do you like that?"

Scout doesn't seem to mind it.

There's a pitcher of water on the table and a tumbler. Ice sits in it, as if whomever filled it knew that he'd be waking soon. Avriel shifts, twisting his body slowly to reach for it. Everything feels slow, heavy, weighed down as if-

He pauses.

Avriel forgets about the water, hands shaking.

Scout lets out a cry from beneath the covers and it should be funny, how muffled it sounds but Av understands now where it was trying to lead him.

He waits for a moment, lets himself calm down before checking and then pulls back the covers gingerly.

And there are his feet.

Interesting.

He moves carefully, just in case, but all the cuts on his arms and legs have already turned pink, their healing process nearly complete, capitol tech. Avriel doesn't care, he's too focused on his right foot.

The last time he looked at it, it was pale, almost purple in the dark. Blood covered it and he was shaking, pushing a needle through flaps of skin, tightening, pulling and hoping to keep something that was already lost.

He bites his lip, cringing slightly back from the memory, then, he reaches out and touches his heel gently, testing.

He feels it. He shouldn't be able to, but he does.

"Merde, merde, merde," he whispers, his hand over his mouth in awe.

That isn't his foot.

He knows it, like he knows that a gunshot has to land somewhere, he knows that isn't his foot. It looks like his foot, when he tries to curl his toes, they curl perfect and he feels it, but it isn't his.

Avriel folds over it, already enamoured. Scout lies on the end of the bed and sighs softly, waiting for Avriel to be done but Avriel pays it no mind, completely engrossed.

He pushes gentle on his skin, feeling carefully for an answer. He's only gotten to play with Capitol tech a few times and one of those times was in the training centre, there wasn't much time then but now, technically, he should have all the time in the world.

Aspen.

Her name comes to him like a heartbeat and he pauses.

"Not now," he tells her.

There's a soft click on the top of his foot and Avriel pauses again, breathless as a small panel opens on the top to reveal a diamond core, pulsating gently, surrounded by various wires and pieces.

Avriel stares at it for a long moment and then notices the engraving on the panel's inside.

NERVAlink.

He sits there for awhile, arms linked loosely, chin on his knee, staring at the foot. He watches fake nerve endings react when he reaches down to prod around some more. It's impressive, someone's greatest work probably.

And Avriel can't wait to take it apart.