Dream Come True

8

I was all set on the picnic blanket, all my favourite foods in front of me. Strawberries poured out of bowls, sandwiches overflowed the plate and juice was filled to the brim of the jug. My stomach grumbled just looking at the food.
'What's your favourite food?' Xander asked me lounging back on the blanket.
'Hmm... probably strawberries.' I said biting into one. 'You?' He looked up to the sky thinking.
'Steak. A good steak makes any day better.' He said. I laughed at him.
'What's your favourite colour?' He looked at me.
'I think my favourite colour had to be... Orange. Like a sunset.' He answered. 'What about you?' I always seemed to change favourite colours. I guess it all depended on my mood. I rolled onto my back and stared upwards. 'Um...White I think."
The 20 questions continued as we ate. He was born on September 3rd and was an only child. He always wished for a little brother or sister. His mother, Isabella, worked full time as a cook.

These games were great until a point for me. I always ended up awkward because my dreams were a huge part of who I was and I could never tell anyone about them with out being sent to yet another therapy lesson. And then the dreaded question came;
"What's something not a lot of people know about you?" he asked, popping a grape into his mouth. My awkwardly fumbled through my thoughts for a decent answer that wasn't a lie, but didn't out me as who I was.

'Thia? What is it?' My anxious feeling ebbed away and I was left feeling light and free. It seemed okay to tell him anything. I opened my mouth to tell him but then shut it, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. My change of emotion was strange. I've never uttered a word to anyone outside my family about my dreams. And here I was contemplating telling a guy I met last week? Then again my tight nervous feeling unraveled. A gentle familiar whisper echoed in my mind.

Thia.

The mental voice had a distinct essence of Xander and I caught his concentrated gaze.
"What did you just do?" I said barely above a whisper. He didn't say anything.
"Xander, What was it that you just did?" I repeated, seriously. His eyes flicked away and then back again.
"I think you know." He said. He held my gaze and waited.
"You're... You're like me?" I stammered. He raised one eyebrow.
"Am I?" He questioned, prompting me further. I shook my head as I combined my thoughts; the melting away of my dread in English, the dissolving of my apprehension in the park...
"Are you - You're controlling my emotions." My eyes bore into his as I felt my defenses lock into position and I stood up. He shook his head, refusing to look away.
"No. They are your emotions. I can only make one more prominent than another for a period of time. They are still yours. Usually, I can't even use it unless some part of the individual wants the other emotions to be brought forward, like leaving a door ajar for me. If they open the door wide enough, sometimes they can share thoughts and things they've seen with me."
"So why did I just hear you call me?" I narrowed my eyes, suspiciously. His face remained relentlessly calm.
"Rarely, I can communicate to another person if I concentrate - but usually only a word or two. Even more rarely, I can feel emotions linked to an object, person or location."

I paused. I focused on retrieving every detail from my memory of those moments. Slowly, I lowered my walls, brick by brick as I began to understand. I had still vaguely felt my chest constrict in anxiousness at the front of the classroom, but nothing really more than a faint residue, replaced by my spark of interest in Xander. I still had remnants of my erratic breathing and weight bearing down on my shoulders and cautiousness of Drey, but again they were masked by my ache for consoling in the park. They were still mine, but he helped me center myself until I was able to face them. I carefully lowered myself back onto the picnic blanket.

"How do I know you're not manipulating them now?"
"Why were you so aware something was off about your emotions before? How did you know it was me saying your name? I have a trace, you can feel it. Can you feel it now?" He asked, gently. I shook my head in response to his question.
"So, What about you?' He met my eyes and I looked down at my lap, locking my fingers together.

"I don't really know how to - I can't expla-" I fumbled with my words in this unknown territory. I had never breathed a word to anyone. I had read enough books and seen enough films to know the outcome of sharing it with people.
"Sometimes, I see things that haven't happened yet. Usually when I sleep, they come as dreams but recently they come when I'm awake."
"What does that have to do with me? That first day, as soon as you looked at me, you linked me with so much panic. Why?" He asked.
"You were in it." He looked at me with confusion. I heard the fatigue in my voice and scrubbed a hand across my face. "I've been having visions of a terrible... of battles and screaming families, people dying, civilizations destroyed. And you are with me in every single one." His brow furrowed.
"So, It's soon." He muttered, running a hand through his hair. I nodded and rubbed my tired eyes. I felt his fingers tuck back some hair that had escaped my hair tie and lift my chin.
"All in due time. Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

We walked back together, close enough to feel slightly giddy and brush for my arm to brush against his occasionally. We swapped glances when we thought the other wasn't looking and I began to feel fresh and free.

It didn't last long.

Xander stopped right around the corner before I could open my mouth to tell him to stop.
"Did you see that? Did you see him?" He asked me, as he watched the dark figure slink through the moonlight. I nodded. We watched as Drey looked around and then preceded to turn the corner.

Slowly we came to the same corner Drey had ducked behind earlier. Past the wall was a hidden little door, only large enough to crawl through left slightly ajar. Xander hesitantly edged into the crawl space and we shuffled forwards until we came to a ladder bolted to the wall dropping down to the next level. Slowly I lowered myself down onto the ground again next to him. My eyes struggled to adjust to the musty darkness as I took in my surroundings. To my surprise, we stood in the middle of an extensive hallway, a metallic path stretching out on both the left and right.

"Maybe you go down there and I'll go the other way and corner him.' I suggested in a low voice. Xander shook his head firmly.
'No. You go back outside and I'll search for him.' He said matching my whisper. I narrowed my eyes.
"No, I'm coming, we'll catch him better this way." I said. Xander scrunched his nose in dislike. It was cute as hell.
"The more you argue this, the further he's getting away." I said stubbornly, smothering my untimely thoughts. He opened his mouth and then shut it with an annoyed expression.
"Fine. But yell out if anything happens." He finally ground out. I nodded and started to turn the corner when I felt him pull me back to him. I turned around, ready to yell at him for wasting time when he held my face gently between his hands.
"I'm serious, any hint of trouble."
"Yeah, yeah, I will." I said impatiently. He nodded once then turned and ran to the back door as I stood there in a daze, my cheeks still tingling from his hands. I shook my head and started around the corner, squashing down the fireworks show in my gut.

Come on, you idiot. Focus. You've got a war to stop.