Sweeter Than Wine

If Only In My Dreams

My k
My sleep is restless.

Every time I fall into that deep restful comfort I awaken to make sure George is still there.

He is every single time.

I reach out to touch him, his skin warm beneath my cold fingers.

I watch as he sleeps peacefully, his body healing him as he rests.

I feel the urge to wake him up, but force myself to pull my hand back.

Let him sleep...that's the only way he'll heal. You certainly can't do it.

I lean in, tears stinging my eyes as I remember my failure, "I'll come back a bit later, Geo...I love you..."

I stand, my legs shaking, heart beating painfully in my chest at the exertion of my movements.

I pull on a plain dress, too weak to fumble with buttons.

As soon as I open the door and step out, Paul pulls me into an embrace.

"You shouldn't be up, ______..." he chastises gently.

"Paul, he's alive!" I whisper,

"Shhhhhh....." Paul coos softly, hand gently smoothing my hair out, a deep sadness within those hazel eyes. "You need to rest. No arguments. Let's get you some breakfast...then back to bed. Okay?"

"I'm not delusional Paul, I'm serious." I pull him with surprising strength into the room where George lay.

Paul's eyes widen, shocked is an understatement.

"Fuck me, he's alive!" Paul's says bewildered but undeniably relieved.

I put my finger to his lips and pull him out of the room.

He helps me downstairs, leading me straight to the kitchen.

John and Ritchie must be with...them.

Paul fixes me a bowl of cereal, watching to make sure I eat every bite.

I do so, even though each bite is more difficult than the last.

Paul sets a glass of water down, "drink all of this, and we'll get you back to bed. You need to stay hydrated properly so your blood volume can return to normal..."

I drink the water, the hand holding the glass quivering.

Once it's all gone, Paul helps me to my feet. "Now back to bed with you. No buts, no arguments. We need you, _______..you cant let yourself fall apart. George needs you."

I'm a little surprised Paul doesn't ask about how George is alive. I'm sure he's doing it so I'm not out under more stress.

George is back and it feels unreal...the more I think of it the more panic begins to rise up that he needs more healing that I cannot give him right now.

All I can do is nod. I know if I speak aloud I'll burst into tears.

We go back to my room, George still in the same position I left him in.