Ford could not see.
He was standing on a plane of infinite dark, a horribly suffocating sort of blackness that made him fear moving. Could he even walk without falling? He took a step forward, twitching with hesitation. No fall. He breathed a sigh of relief.
How did he even get here? He scratched his head, trying to remember the last moments he spent before he came into this strange, empty void. His brain felt oddly absent of any ability to recall what he was doing only moments before. Ford continued to wade through the darkness, fear growing in him.
Coward, coward...
"Who's there?" He whipped his head around. There was no one present, but all of a sudden he felt like he was being observed by a malevolent outside source. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to simply run.
Run... run away...
He froze. As if being held down by unseen terrors, he watched as a humanoid speck in the distance began to creep closer. It seemed void of any notable features, a simple, flesh-coloured form in a white robe. Ford wanted to look away, a sense of shame descending upon him, but his head remained firmly faced towards the figure as it began to rapidly grow bright, ginger hair that fell to her shoulders. Freckles began to dot the skin as it tanned, and Ford saw her small hands become worn and calloused.
"Ellie?" Ford asked in wonder. Her blue-green eyes looked upon Ford in a kindly, yet tired manner.
"Hi, Ford." She said with a smile, "'ow's life in Bree?"
Ford didn't hesitate. Broken free from the strange sorcery that kept him rooted to the spot, he dashed over to his old friend and engulfed her in a tight hug. "Bloody hell, I though' I'd no' seen..."
He trailed off. Something’s wrong, this doesn’ feel right. A moment's hesitation took him, and he leaned back.
There was no ginger hair anymore. Ford suddenly saw short, dark brown curls and another set of freckles spattered over the bridge of the figure's nose. A handsome young man with an easy smile was looking down at him.
"Ford." Greeted the figure with a nod.
"...You're not them." Ford murmured, stumbling back. Something caught on his foot and he found himself falling onto cold, hard ground.
"I hope you're doin' well." The man said, crouching down and extending a hand to him.
"You're not them!" Ford yelled. He stood up and started running. Was he even putting on distance? Ford could not tell in this cursed, strange black world. An endless hole of nothing sprawled out before him, but he ran. He kept running. He did not dare to look back.
"Will y'visit soon, lad?" A voice came from somewhere to his left. He turned his head and saw brown eyes, and greying brown hair that was combed back. An older man whose age was starting to show in the lines on his face.
"Pa..." Ford murmured, blinking away tears, "Soon, I will, bu' that's no' the real you."
He kept running. A younger man, bearing resemblance to his father, but with brown-green eyes and messy hair, walked alongside him, comfortably keeping pace with his running.
"I'm no' goin' to forget, y'know." The man said.
"I know, Finn." Ford told his older brother, "I'm still waitin' for the real you to come visit."
He kept running. A youthful young teenager, barely into adulthood, with long brown hair and the same brown-green eyes as his brother skipped into view, looking at him with teary eyes. She was holding onto a worn plush teddy bear with mismatched buttons for eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ford. It's jus' an idea I can' seem t'wrap my head around." She told him.
"Don' worry, Hilda. Give it some time." He reassured his sister.
There was a thud as Ford collided with something large and invisible. He fell onto his back and held onto his freshly-bleeding nose. "Bloody hell..." He swore, but he felt no pain and watched red trickle onto his shirt.
A pair of unknown hands suddenly began to work on opening the buttons.
"Wait--" He scrambled backwards, "Stop that--"
The ground beneath him vanished. He screamed as he fell.
Ford opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the lightly-cobwebbed ceiling of his own room.
He noticed that his breath had become heavy and sighed out in relief. Not again... He thought, laying an arm over his eyes. There was a sunken, hollow feeling in his stomach that was not present before, but there was also a warmth there that was not his own, a sharp contrast to the cold he suddenly felt.
The figure sharing the bed next to him stirred, drawing him closer. Brown eyes fluttered open and looked at him with furrowed brows, the long, dark brown curls splayed across the pillows, "Bad dream?"
"I'll be fine." Ford said with a nod. He calmed down as the warmth from the other began to soothe his cold skin and he hugged the figure gently to himself, planting a soft kiss onto the dark brown hair, "Go back to sleep."
Ford watched as the brown eyes closed. He flicked his gaze up to the curtain-covered windows, eyes narrowing.
"I'm not running." He murmured.
