☤ - a memory of death/loss

     A shaky breath left him as he pulled himself through the wreckage. He could hear the screams and calls for help, but Vaughn could do NOTHING. Hell, he should be shouting for someone to aide him with the current status of his leg but…no. His throat and vocal cords ACHED from the past few minutes of abuse as well as the fact that each breath in lead to a short lived coughing fit. No need to risk his health more for a pointless shout.

     The building material around him hadn’t mattered too heavily just a few weeks ago but…now he was SURROUNDED by the burning and beaten remains of Helios. An overwhelmed feeling filling his chest and belly. He just…no no. No. Don’t focus on the irreversible and focus on his friends.

     He NEEDED to find them.            Rhys.           Fiona.           Sasha.           Gortys.           Loader Bot.           ANYONE.

     It didn’t even occur to him until he was falling down into another dirt and clouded pit that he had just stepped over one of his old co-workers. He didn’t even have to check if they were breathing. The large thin sheet of metal in their chest was a dead give away that they wouldn’t be helping him through this minefield of HORROR any time soon.

     It wasn’t his first dead body but…

     This couldn’t be real…there was no way this could be real. All this death, overheated flames and burning metal…it…it couldn’t be. He couldn’t tell if his ears were ringing or if someone was screaming again (or if HE was screaming). Fuck fuck fuck—…FUCK! He should have went with them! For all he knew they could be dying along with the rest of the unlucky Hyperions. He didn’t even care if he could be with them still alive and breathing. The very idea of being the only one left made his heart bang against his chest, lungs inflating and deflating at a pace that threatened it’s own life span. Slamming his fist into the ground he felt it splash into something…maybe some of Helios’ fuel or water or blo—

    And he was throwing up. 

     ✌ - a memory of a relative

     A sharp laugh left the older women, clinking their glasses together as they sat back in the chairs. Exchanging gossip like it was the most important thing in their lives and grinning ear to ear.

     Vaughn couldn’t participate as he was far too busy with…homework or…a game…SOMETHING. Though just as he thought he had escaped the hell of idle gossip and small talk, his aunt’s voice rang in his ears. He could smell the alcohol radiating off of them, so her next words came as no surprise.

    “Y’r gonna have to drive us HOME ya’ realize that, Vic,” a teasing tone in the woman’s voice. But not at all venomous. Honestly, it wasn’t a BAD thought.

     Though the next few minutes were a BLUR until suddenly he was helping his aunt down the steps when they both slipped down the steps. No busted heads or broken bones. But that bottle had smashed. Leading to the immediate response of,

    “Oh my god, are you okay?”

     The question not at all aimed at Vaughn, but to the very much SHATTERED bottle. A drunken sadness in her eyes setting Vaughn into a fit of laughter. Which was apparently contagious as his mother and aunt both joined in soon after.