Unburied Past

Old Dreams

Warning:

The following contains brief descriptions of death. If that bothers you in anyway, please skip the first, second, and fifth longer paragraphs.

Her curly golden blonde hair covered her deathly pale face like a veil as she hung from the tree. He was too late. He couldn't save her.

"How could you, Jeremiah? How could you?"

White gown. Gold jewelry. Perfect makeup. Auburn hair surrounding her face like some kind of morbid halo.

"Am I just another woman to you?"

Royal blue cloak blowing back in the wind she was creating. Long titan hair whipped around her. Magic glowed hands stretched out towards him in a menacing gesture. Bright blue eyes glowing in the moonlight.

"I regret nothing."

A retreating back. Fiery red hair cascading down as she walked away, hand over her slightly bulging stomach, still in men's clothes.

"If you had fought like a man you need not to have been hang'd like a dog."

Strawberry blonde hair perfectly pulled back into the beret as always. A wedding ring that wasn't his glinted on her finger. Though both had bullet holes riddling their bodies, her blue eyes held no tears.

"It's death for Bonnie and Clyde."

Eric gasped as he awoke. His eyes opened to see nothing but golden hair. Pulling Taylor closer so that her back was against his chest, the dark haired man tried to get his breathing back under control.

After seeing her ancient lookalike dead, he was grateful that his girlfriend had stayed with him the night before.

He'd recognized Tara from the vision he'd had a few days prior. With the second woman, he was in some sort of ancient tomb, and her dress and makeup had screamed Cleopatra. The third was something out of a fairytale, yet the name "Morgan" came to mind. As for the fourth, they were in an old jail. Though he didn't see her face, he knew her name. Anne. The fifth woman was clearly Bonnie Parker. If his memory of seeing photos of the infamous crime duo that infatuated Depression Era America wasn't enough proof, her words were.

Eric sighed softly and kissed Taylor's shoulder.

The pilot turned around in his arms and nuzzled closer.

"What time is it?" she asked in a Scottish accent.

"Is that a Scottish accent?" Eric questioned.

"It's getting better," she groaned, accent Irish this time.

"Uh, babe, that was Irish."

"What is she normally?" British.

"'She'? You're you."

"Ugh," she oddly sounded Southern. Then, finally, in her normal voice, "me." Taylor moved closer to him, fast asleep once again.

"That was weird," Eric mumbled.

~*~

The first thing Taylor noticed was that she couldn't move. The panic quickly gave way to comfort as she remembered that she'd stayed with Eric the night before. She couldn't move because his arms were tightly wrapped around her waist.

The blonde smiled softly at the face of her sleeping boyfriend. He looked so peaceful.

The serene look was replaced by one of annoyance when his alarm went off.

With a giggle, Taylor pressed her lips to his when he turned back to her. "Good morning."

"Morning," Eric groaned.