I woke up feeling cold. Not uncomfortably so, but I'd have preferred being warm right now.

No, not warm, I wanted something else, something... nice, that was also warm. I didn't remember what it was or why I wanted it but I lamented its absence.

I took a deep breath to get away from the thoughts and the first thing I noticed was that I regretted taking the deep breath when pain came to me from my chest. I kept my breaths shallow and short, which still pained but not as much and that was good enough for me.

I opened my eyes a little and struggled to keep them open with how dry they felt. A little bit of blinking and they did not sting as much, letting me see where I was.

The first thing I saw was that it was dark, wherever I was. Not pitch black since there was some light on somewhere near but it was still dark. I was looking up at the ceiling which was blurry and grey. There was other stuff around to look at, but I didn't feel like looking around. There were some sounds but I tuned them out to continue looking up.

The ceiling looked nice as it slowly shifted around, and as I kept looking at it, I became aware of how exhausted I felt. My body felt sore, there was a bed underneath me, and it was comfortable even though it was a bit cold. I could totally take a little nap. I just had to stretch a bit to get rid of the sorenes–

There was pain from my chest. So much pain. I stopped my stretch and went back to laying how I was, which felt so uncomfortable now. I blinked a bit as some tears formed in my eyes. At least my eyes weren't dry now.

The pain died down but not entirely, and now, I didn't really feel like having a nap anymore, even though I was tired. The ceiling was no longer interesting to look at and the sounds I had tuned out were back. I was also noticing some other stuff in my vision. There was a muzzle on my muzzle... no, that's a... a ventilator mask. Weird.

One of the sounds that I had tuned out suddenly got my attention. It was a continuous and rhythmic beeping which I think was familiar... Was I in a hospital?

I looked to my left and saw three machines that were hooked up to me. One was a breathing machine since it was attached to the mask on my face with a pipe. The second was a heart monitor, and the third was something that had a wire going to my head. I looked up and saw that the wire was attached to a cone thing on my horn.

I tried to reach out to it with my magic and regretted that when all I got was a bad headache, which put more tears in my eyes. Why was I here? Just to suffer? No, I was just bitching about problems that I caused. The pain didn't become any lesser at that realisation. Instead, my thoughts wandered back to the warm thing I wanted.

This time, I remembered what it was.

A hug. I wanted a hug. I wanted to be hugged and told that everything's going to be alright. I was disappointed in myself for wanting that. Not because it's a weird thing to ask for, even though it is, but because I should know by now that I'm not going to get what I want and that I should adjust my expectations with that in mind. I was alone and that was it.

I missed Brush; she'd tell me that everything was alright. I missed Spider; he'd make cute noises and hug me as well. I hope that he's alright at home...

Memories came to me. He was gone; crushed to deat–

A chirp came from the foot of the bed. I looked down, looking past my body covered in dressing and bandages, and saw Spider standing at the end of the bed and looking at me. He was alive!

I tried reaching out to him but found that my hoof couldn't reach him. I tried getting up but found that my right arm was in a cast and that it pained too much to move and that I couldn't breathe properly. I was forced to lay back down and get my breath back. Spider watched me silently as I did.

"Spider," I managed to whisper as my breathing steadied. "Come here."

I had seen him die but here he was, and I wanted nothing more than to keep him close to me, away from where people could get him.

Spider didn't hear me, I think, since he just stood there at the foot of the bed and started at me. I tried again to say something but I coughed painfully instead. My mouth had too much saliva and I swallowed it but that just made it harder to breathe.

Spider made the saddest, most gut-wrenching chirp as he saw me struggle to breathe, and he jumped off the bed and walked to the door behind him, hidden by the bed getting in the way. I bet he was going to get someone to help me, like the good bug he wa–

There was a loud crunch and the room was plunged in silence. A void formed in my chest as I recognised the sound. It was the sound of him being crushed. It couldn't have been. I– I didn't see him get crushed, and it could have been something else– it had to be.

But I knew he was gone. I had seen him die for me.

I slowly lifted my head so that I could see over the foot of the bed and confirm that I was wrong, and that he was alive and alright.

There was a dead bug there. It was my fault.

I woke up in the dark, feeling cold. It wasn't that cold, but I would have liked having a scarf or something like that.

I opened my eyes and found myself lying on a bed. I was still in the hospital, and in the same room from that nightmare. I immediately lifted my head up, and saw that there was nothing on the floor in front of the bed. My chest didn't hurt much and there weren't any machines hooked up to me. It was just me and the bed.

And the silence.

The silence, I could focus on only it. It didn't matter that the room was completely bare, or that there was no door or window, or that something was standing at the wall in front of my bed. All that mattered was the silence. The silence, it– it felt accusatory. Did I do something wrong? Knowing me, I probably did. But what?

The silence didn't give an answer and continued glaring at me, like it was expecting me to figure out what I did. I hated it. I hated it and wished that I could hide under a blanket, or have someone hug me, or both, but I knew well that I couldn't have either. I didn't deserve to. I had done something wrong.

What did I do wrong? I'm only pretending to forget so that I don't have to take responsibility.

The silence was oppressive and all-encompassing. I couldn't hide from it and there was nobody to save me from it. Or was somebody there just choosing to not save me, just like when I didn't stop that bitch from killing Spider. I had a clear shot but I didn't take it. He adored me and I adored him but I let him die. I could've saved him but I didn't. Why should someone help me if I couldn't help them back?

That was it. Spider's death was what I was forgetting. That was what made the silence judge me. That was why nobody would help me from here, and honestly, they shouldn't. I wanted my friends– no, friend to barge in and tell me that everything was alright. But why should she? Why should Brush help me? I wasn't a good friend, or a good person, especially if I just wanted help despite not knowing if I could, or would, return the favour. I'd probably forget all about her the first chance I get, just like I forgot Spider.

I felt tears form in my eyes. I should've been lamenting his death, but here I was, crying about being alone of all things. I was just a bitch who took and took and never gave back our felt grateful. Maybe my parents were right, maybe I am a disappointing thing. I saw myself curl up and hide my face behind my mane. I started crying. Pathetic.

"Oh, you're still alive?"

I looked up to where the voice came from, and through my tears-soaked eyes, I saw a dark figure standing at the foot of the bed. She stared at me with a predatory look and a knife in her hoof.

"Don't worry, I'll finish you off."

She raised the knife and lunged at me. I couldn't back away in time and only got to sit up straight, which made it easier for her to catch me by my throat and pin me down.

"How weak, can't believe you're that pathetic," she commented with a sneer. I tried shrinking away from her, to hide behind my mane, or anything but she held me down firmly.

Then, she stabbed me. There was pain everywhere as she stabbed me repeatedly. I cried because that was all I could do. How pathetic.

I woke up in the dark, feeling cold and miserable. I could feel tears running down my face, pain all over, and the biting cold take away whatever warmth I had, but I didn't do anything to stop it either. I didn't deserve to feel nice. I lay on some cold surface that made me feel so small and all I could do was curl up and cry. I didn't even remember why but I felt terrible.

I don't know how much time passed, but it felt like a lot of time, and in that time, I could feel a void inside me grow larger and larger. Why couldn't things just be okay? Maybe things would be alright if I wasn't a pathetic and weak loser.

My very long moment of weakness was interrupted eventually. I heard a door open and a voice call out to me, "Get up."

I opened my eyes and looked up to see an open door on the wall in front of me. On the other side of it were stairs that led up to somewhere. I ceased my crying and wiped the tears from my face using my left hoof.

The voice called out again, "Get up."

I obeyed, getting up slowly while barely ignoring all the pain. I stood on three legs with my right foreleg being broken and I had to hold it up like a dog would hold up its injured leg to avoid stepping on it.

"She's up there," the voice said to me. I could hear footsteps from the stairs. That bitch wasn't out of my house yet. "Take revenge."

I hobbled forward to the stairs, determined to kill. How would I do it? Painfully.

But by the time I reached the stairs, my determination was waning. Just getting to the stairs had taken me so long and I was rather winded by it, but I soldiered on and started making my way upstairs, thinking that I'd make it to that intruder and tear her to pieces. I should know by now that I'll fail to meet any expectation.

Each step was harder to go up than the last. Each step was larger than the last. Each step loomed more and more over me like a sheer cliff face. I climbed over each step before me, ignoring the pain my body felt or how my lungs burned as they struggled to get enough air.

I looked back for a moment. I had gone up just one step that was barely a centimeter– no, it was barely a millimeter in height.

I looked back to the step in front of me, whose top I could barely see. The footsteps upstairs were slowly fading away as she got away from me. No! I can't let her go! I grit my teeth and started clambering up the step as fast as I could, forcing my right foreleg to work no matter how much it hurt.

She wouldn't get away.

I finally reached the top and dragged myself over the top, laying down just for a moment to get back my breath and rest my failure of a body.

A shadow fell over me.

I looked up and saw the dark figure of the intruder standing atop the vertigo-inducing step. She was impossibly large and imposing, and she looked down at me with contempt.

"You should'a stayed down."

She lifted a hoof and bright it when towards me. The gigantic appendage came down and hit me directly on my horn, pushing me off the step I had worked so hard to climb up. The world warped as I fell down a million mountain-like steps and hit myself on each one. The intruder was all I could see as I fell and she laughed at me, seeing how WEAK I was. I fell on my left side, my broken foreleg, my horn, and everywhere else where it would hurt a lot.

After much falling, I hit the floor. The door shut close, stopping me from going back up — not that I could. I'd just get kicked down again. I failed.

I curled up, both from the pain of falling and the pain of failing. All that bravado, all that determination, all of it was just crap. I had her right in front of me and she just kicked me down the stairs like the worm I was. Everything hurt.

I failed.

I could feel tears building up in my eyes once more. This was all I could do: cry like a bitch. I failed to avenge Spider. I've already failed myself, I'd fail my colleague, I'd fail my friend, I'd fail Voth. It was all I could do: be a failure.

The world around me shrunk as I stayed curled up and cried pathetically at myself. II was so alone and I HATED it. I missed my friend. When would this pain end?

Suddenly, the world was warm again. Something– no, someone came to my side and laid down next to me. I opened my eyes as I felt a wing drape over me, and I looked to see who it was. Through my blurry vision, I saw that it was Voth. I immediately latched onto him. Even after all my faults, he was still here. Or he was here to tell me he's letting me go since he found someone who can do the ONE task he gave me better.

I blabbered apologies for wasting his time at that realisation and I did my best to get him to not leave me.

Or, that's what I tried to do, at least. In actuality, I ended up just crying into his chest while barely being able to make words come out of my mouth. I think he got the message, but it was still embarrassing of me to be crying so much I couldn't speak. I was weak.

The world around kept shrinking until it was only me and Voth. He held onto me, gently rubbing my back as I cried. He didn't go.

Voth looked down at Anya with pity. Her mind was being assaulted by outside magic as doctors put magic back into her system after he had made her drain it all, and as a side-effect, she was feeling pain in the real world and going through a fever dream stuck in between the dream realm, the mind, and the waking world.

The forced magic pumping was important since her body naturally refilling its magic would be a slow process that would leave her with volatile magic for a while. Volatile magic would push back against the healing spells the doctors would put on her and that was obviously bad. She might even end up dead if it pushes back too hard considering her current situation.

However, the magic pumping was also breaking all the blocks that he had put on her mind and emotions, releasing all the emotions that had built up behind them onto her already vulnerable mind, which consequently made the fever dream she was having even worse. Voth couldn't put back the blocks until the doctors were done, meaning that he could only keep her company throught the condition that was only the fault of her inferior biology, unless he was ready to risk accidentally causing more harm to Anya. How he hated the uncertainty of the effects of eldritch power on inferior biology.

He kept her company in the dream realm and her mind, knowing he had to discuss the issue of her protection with her but that would have to wait until she was less distraught and more coherent. However, he could tell, from her crying and barely coherent thoughts as she faded in and out of the dream, that she was furious at her weakness and that she'd get to work on something to protect her the first moment she gets to.

He had to manipulate some of her thoughts around to divert her away from the method that would attract too much attention or require his help, to the methods that would be more subtle and not point towards him. Most importantly, he made her prioritise getting the key back before she did anything drastic.

Anya, meanwhile, stayed latched onto Voth and between her pain and fear, she was angry. Her entire problem had started because of her being weak, and now she had little control of her situation. She swore that when she woke up, she'd get to work right away on some implement to keep herself safe.

Author's Note

...Have you ever woken up? And woken up again? And again? And it was the weirdest but scariest dream you've ever had?

Damn, that was a weird dream. Anyway...

...Have you ever woken up? And woken up again? And again? And it was the weirdest but scariest dream you've ever had?