madimpossibledreamer | The Joker Game: The Voice That Someone Calls Part Three

Main Points:
Doctor Who/Persona 2 Crossover
Summary: Dreams do not stay perfect forever, but wither. (DON'T ASK, I DON'T KNOW.)
Word Count: 404
Rating: K
Author's Notes: GOOD GRIEF, I'M SO SORRY ABOUT POSTING TIME. It has been pointed out before now that I'm too busy. I can kind of see that. Well, given that only one person's found this so far, I don't have to worry about disappointing a ton of fans, but still!
...H-hopefully this helps?

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he woke, gasping, and realized that it was still a dream. He couldn’t breathe, feeling fingers at his throat. His left hand felt curiously empty.

A crazy giggle came from somewhere above him, and he realized that the attacker was straddling him, digging insatiable fingers into his throat. “Time to die, murderer,” the figure purred.

“I…haven’t done anything to you,” he managed, pushing on the figure above him, trying to get some breath. Talking, it seemed was a wasted effort, and the thing above him was so strong…

“You don’t remember yet?” His assailant seemed curiously disappointed, before bursting into laughter that sent shivers up Tatsuya’s spine. “Well, in that case, I can’t kill you yet. You need to remember. You need to know why I’ll kill you, but until then, I’ll be there, watching you. In every shadow, in every stir of the wind, haunting you until you die. You can’t be rid of me, my dear Tatsu-chan.” One gloved hand traced the bruises as Tatsuya coughed, feeling though his throat was on fire and every breath hurt. The hand seemed curiously gentle. He might have had some brain damage, because he could have sworn that he’d heard an echo of the heartbeat when he and his assailant had been pressed close together.

The feeling of something—someone—on his chest was gone. And he looked up, only to see what looked like a curl of black smoke disappearing into the air.

He was standing at Alaya Shrine, and flames were licking the walls, hungrily devouring the place. He didn’t know why, but he was certain that this…this was a call back to the old days, a human sacrifice waking things that were better left sleeping. A flower that he couldn’t quite make out floated down as if it were a feather.

Tatsuya slammed awake with so much force that his head flew back and hit the desk behind him. More giggling ensued.

He shook his head, trying to figure out what in the world that had all been about, and finally met the disapproving eyes of his teacher. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” was all she would say in a mild tone, and then she went back to teaching. He didn’t bother to respond—what could he say? His heart hadn’t stopped beating like a frightened rabbit’s, and seriously, what the hell?