For Good

Reunion

Awake. I was completely awake in half an instant. My mind returned to the present, but my body was still in the dream. I shook violently as I sat up, cold and shock stunning my system. The weight that had been on my chest before had switched from pressing to squeezing. I could have sworn my heart was about to burst. Waves of tight pain wrapped around my torso, and I put the dream to the back of my consciousness for the moment. I needed to calm down.

Ducking my head to my knees, I wound my shaking fingers into my hair and began to breathe deeply. Inhale. Exhale. No weight this time. Just calm. Inhale. That's it. Just like I had done countless times before. This was the same as any anxiety attack, any bout of paranoia. Breathe. Control. Inhale. Exhale. My fingers clutched the dark strands as I focused on easing the chest pain, filling my lungs with air. I was not drowning. I was here, in my bed, in my house, on the same earth I had been tied to for longer than should be allowed. Safe. I was safe.

As my body began to relax, I allowed the memory of that dark, frigid water to reenter my mind. I was safe, yes. The dream couldn't hurt me. Not the water and the cold, anyway. But the memories it stirred... Those could. Those held a knife to my throat. The more I thought about what I had seen, the harder the tip of that knife pressed into my flesh. The name I had uttered. It had in fact been me saying it. I hardly dared to think it even now. Hardly dared to think about him.

At the prickle of remembrance, I stood hastily and grabbed my phone from the bedside where it lay plugged in. Four o'clock in the morning. I had gotten a solid five hours of sleep, traumatic though it was. That was enough. Out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. More tea. Always more tea. When I had been somewhat soothed by the hot liquid, I returned to my study and the overstuffed reading chair. I needed to think.

The issue was not so much the dream itself. In fact, it was not the first of its kind. The issue was the timing of said dream. Many years ago, when Camelot had fallen and I had been forced to move forward, similar dreams had plagued my sleep. Always, he needed me. Always, there was pain and suffering. Always, I awoke in a panic, sometimes sobbing, sometimes numb. And always, I was alone. I never seemed to be reminded of the happy times or the future that was waiting, full of hope. No, never that. Only sorrow and loneliness. This had continued for nearly half a millenium, off and on. I sought help with meditation and mindfulness, though that wasn't what the experts called them back then. Through the years, I worked to control my mind, and slowly I made progress. It was now rare for me to have a dream like this, for it to cause such a disruption in my thoughts and responses. When was the last time? I couldn't remember.

I finished the tea and brewed more. Yes, I was aware I had a problem. It wasn't the only one.

Why now? And why that specific dream? It had felt far more real than the others, if memory served. And the setting in this one... It unnerved me. I couldn't help but picture his body on that boat, floating away from me. Excalibur as it flew over the water, caught before being pulled down. How had so much strayed from me, so many faces erased by time, but his on that day... I could see every feature. Hear every word he managed to choke out. I heard them all again.

Fuck the tea.

Returning to the kitchen, I pulled a heavy bottle out of a high cupboard. I took a swig of the amber liquid. And another. Another. It never hit me quite as hard as I hoped it would. I could barely get drunk anymore even when I tried. My tolerance was astronomical, special thanks to immortality. The drink was more for comfort than effect, but I continued downing it just the same. I sat at the built-in dining nook in the corner of the kitchen, bottle grasped firmly in my hands. There was a question hovering in the air, one that I didn't want to ask. Or answer. Another deep drink. Could I do this again? Dredge all that up further? More than just memories. It would be reality again.