Shadowkissed (A Hemlock Grove fan fiction)

see you in dreamland

He’s been doing it all wrong.

The controlling, the staying away—it’s all been so fucking pointless, because the fact is that there is no controlling what makes up every dead cell in his damned dead body. So later that night, despite his better judgement, he goes down to the basement where the empty pool still lies, his lawn chair and empty beer bottles still lying in the same place they’ve been since early July, and closes his eyes. After a moment, he dreams.

Or not so much dreams, he supposes, as finds someone else’s dreams. A particular someone else.

It doesn’t take him very long. It’s strange: he feels almost an otherworldly connection to Macy Holcombe, though he can’t say why. It’s as though he senses her presence even when she isn’t there, feels her beating heart as though it’s his own when she’s close. Before her existence was barely a blip on the radar—she was his neighbor, they shared a photography class, and their mutual friend had been Jenny—but now it was like she is always in the back of his mind, something he simply can’t shake.

In her dream, Macy stands beside a gold-and-white border collie. Behind her is a nice log cabin surrounded by luminous pine trees, and the distinct sound of a running river is faint, melodic and soothing in the background. Huh, Roman thinks. He hadn’t been sure it would work, but here he is. It’s not a miracle so much as an absolute conundrum. Why can he do these things? It should be impossible—and yet a part of him knows that the word ‘impossible’ really doesn’t hold much meaning anymore after the things he’s seen, the things he’s done.

When she sees Roman standing there, Macy’s content expression changes. She doesn’t look surprised, exactly, so much as a bit confused. “She was my first pet,” she tells him in lieu of an introduction.

If Roman had been walking, he might have stumbled a little. Instead he just stares blankly back at her. “What?”

She points at the border collie. “She was my first pet. And this is my Grandpa’s old house, back before he passed two years ago. I’ve never dreamed of it before and I don’t remember much of the details, so I’m not sure if I’ve got it all right.”

Now that he’s here, Roman isn’t sure what to do next. He’d been so consumed with the idea of finding her dreamscape that it didn’t occur to him what might happen afterward. Every other interaction with Macy has been awkward and uncomfortable at best, but for some reason Roman doesn’t want the formality anymore. “I didn’t think I’d find you,” he says.

An adorable little v-shape forms between her eyebrows. “What do you mean, find me?” She folds her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “Ah. So you are stalking me.”

“This isn’t stalking. I’m visiting you in a dream.” He breaks out into an uncharacteristic grin. “This is fucking amazing. I thought it was only Shelley who could do it, but I guess it must run in the family.”

“Shelley?” she repeats. “Why aren’t you making any sense? This is my dream; things are supposed to make sense.”

“Not everything does,” Roman disagrees. “Especially not in dreams. Just go with it.”

He’s convinced she is going to put up a fight like she always does, but no response comes. Instead she lays down on the grass. After a moment, Roman follows suit. “Can I ask you something?” Macy says.

 Roman glances over at her, but she’s staring up at the crystalline blue sky. “I suppose,” he answers slowly.

“Why did you yell at me today?” There’s a faint blush to her cheeks, as if remembering the encounter embarrasses her somehow.