As real as it may seem [It was only in my dreams]
[Inspired by this]
Co-written with steals_snapple and christmas_nazi
She hesitates to step on the cracked walk leading up to the house. The glow from the beings circulating around the house provides plenty of light but it's far from warm. She shivers as one bare foot touches the walk, weeds snaking around her ankle. They break easily as she moves forward, closer to the house. The beings gather around her, damp cold brushing her skin then pulling away but she keeps her attention focused on the house in front of her. At one time the structure must have been majestic but it's fallen into disrepair. The paint is peeling and the railing around the porch is broken or completely missing in some places. The house is set so far off the main road that it is completely isolated and as she glances up at the sky, even the moon and the stars have abandoned this patch of land. The wind whispers across her skin, playing havoc with her hair as it tangles the curls and makes the house groan. It breathes desperation, pleading for help and closing her off at the same time. The windows are boarded up without even a crack left for her to peer through. The door is shut tight, the one facet of the house that hasn't fallen apart. Her fingers curl around a cold, iron handle and she tugs against the protesting entrance. She tugs again, a bit harder and the door opens with a squeal that sets her nerves on end. As she takes a step inside the broken down foyer, she has to remind herself that she can control things here. She can make certain nothing happens to her or the occupants of this house.
"Everyone has to play by my rules," she whispers as the door shuts forcefully behind her, apparently blocking any escape. She's not worried about escape. This is where she needs to be. Isabel rounds the corner and a smile curves her lips. Michael is huddled as far back against the wall as he can get. His face is dotted with bruising and dried blood, cheeks streaked with tears. She lifts the hem of her white gown and steps closer, crouching down beside Michael. "Hey there, Space Boy," she says softly.
He's filthy and the armor he normally wears is nowhere to be found. His knees are hugged tightly to his chest and at the sound of her voice, he lifts his head to look up at what he first thinks is one of the spirits come to whisper degrading thoughts into his ear. Then he decides she's an angel, so far out of place that he knows something is very, very wrong. But a look up to her face through tear blurred eyes and he knows it's her. "You're not supposed to be here."
She shrugs at that and runs her hand through his hair down to the back of his neck. "I had to come get you, Silly." She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, pulling back to look at him. "You won't wake up, Michael and I'm worried. What happened?" She folds her legs underneath her, tucking herself close to him and keeping her hands on him. She knows with Michael he thrives from constant touch and soft words. She suspects that will be amplified here.
This was his worst nightmare, for Isabel to see the mess in his head where everything was truly in disarray, where he was constantly haunted. It terrifies him for anyone to see him this vulnerable. But with Isabel, it's different, He's sure that seeing him like this is going to make Isabel leave him for good. Who wants this kind of insecurity? "I won't wake up?"
Isabel shakes her head at Michael's question, her fingers still ruffling through his hair and down the back of his neck. "You don't remember? Max and I had to pick you up from work. You passed out and then when you woke up, you were groggy and woozy. We got there, put you in the van and you passed out again. We packed everything and we're on the road again. Max is driving but I can't get you to wake up."
She had begged and pleaded, even cried trying to wake him up because she knew the last thing Michael would want was her in his head. It is an absolute invasion of privacy because there is nothing he can hide from her in here. She can even control the things in his head if she chooses to. The fact that she is here at all is testament to how desperate they all are.
Michael bows his head, a crease forming in his brow as he tries to remember, tries to think of what had happened at work that day. "Uhm... I was working on a car. But I went out back to look for a carborator that would fit the make and model. Suits... two guys in suits, maybe three. I felt something in my neck." His palm lifts to lay flat to the side of his neck and when he removes it, a small pin prick of blood wells up there as if a needle has punctured the skin. "I don't remember."
One of the glowing spirits moves closer to Michael and Isabel. The incorporeal being leans down to whisper in Michael's ear too quietly for Isabel to hear. 'You can't help them. You're not strong enough, not fast enough. They'll die because you'll fail them.'
The spirit pulls away, retreating to the shadows, and Michael quickly shakes his head. "No... no, it's not true. It's not true." But deep down, he feels that it just might be true and it's evident in his expression, in the tenor of his voice and in the way the room takes on a darker feel to it.
Isabel glances up at the spirit pulls closer and then retreats. Her eyes narrow and she furrows her brow in concentration. She literally wills the room brighter, pushing the spirits back further. "My rules," she whispers then looks back to Michael. She smears the prick of blood with her thumb, holding it there for a moment. She inhales, breath trembling a bit as she struggles for control over the space without exerting too much of herself upon it. "What's not true, Michael?"
He looks sideways to her through bruised eyes, embarrassed to even repeat what had been said. "I have to wake up. Wake me up. I have to wake up." He pinches his own skin at his forearm. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.... You, stupid... wake up."
**
Michael gasped, coming to consciousness in a moving van that was more than familiar to him by now. The act threw Isabel out of his mind with him. Eyes wide and alert at what had just happened, he stared at her for a long, drawn out moment. Finally, he began to come back down into a slight sense of grogginess that wasn't as bad as it had been before. "We have to run. Someone found us. I don't know who they were... but they didn't get the dosage right and next time they probably will."
"We're already on the move," Max said with a glance in the rearview mirror at Michael. Subconciously, he checked on Isabel as well. Liz was sitting in the passenger seat, reading the map as they went.
Isabel reached over and took Michael's hand in hers, threading their fingers. With her free hand she ruffled his hair then moved to run her index finger down the bridge of his nose. "How do you feel? And I'm sorry...about invading. We tried everything else."
She was concerned that Michael was going to hate her for this, for walking around in his mind and invading that part of him. She'd been in Max's head often enough when they younger that he no longer minded. She'd never tried to go into Michael's head though.
He shook his head, trying to work through everything Isabel had seen. He wasn't going to talk about this with Max and Liz a foot away. But he also didn't want to leave Isabel hanging. "It's fine. It's fine, okay?" He gave her a look that he had given her so many times before. It was insecure, but only in a way that she could see it. "Are we okay?"
Isabel recognized the look and it didn't surprise her, given what she'd seen. She smiled at him and leaned in, kissing him gently on the lips. "We're more than okay," she assured him in a whisper before she kissed him again.
Co-written with steals_snapple and christmas_nazi
She hesitates to step on the cracked walk leading up to the house. The glow from the beings circulating around the house provides plenty of light but it's far from warm. She shivers as one bare foot touches the walk, weeds snaking around her ankle. They break easily as she moves forward, closer to the house. The beings gather around her, damp cold brushing her skin then pulling away but she keeps her attention focused on the house in front of her. At one time the structure must have been majestic but it's fallen into disrepair. The paint is peeling and the railing around the porch is broken or completely missing in some places. The house is set so far off the main road that it is completely isolated and as she glances up at the sky, even the moon and the stars have abandoned this patch of land. The wind whispers across her skin, playing havoc with her hair as it tangles the curls and makes the house groan. It breathes desperation, pleading for help and closing her off at the same time. The windows are boarded up without even a crack left for her to peer through. The door is shut tight, the one facet of the house that hasn't fallen apart. Her fingers curl around a cold, iron handle and she tugs against the protesting entrance. She tugs again, a bit harder and the door opens with a squeal that sets her nerves on end. As she takes a step inside the broken down foyer, she has to remind herself that she can control things here. She can make certain nothing happens to her or the occupants of this house.
"Everyone has to play by my rules," she whispers as the door shuts forcefully behind her, apparently blocking any escape. She's not worried about escape. This is where she needs to be. Isabel rounds the corner and a smile curves her lips. Michael is huddled as far back against the wall as he can get. His face is dotted with bruising and dried blood, cheeks streaked with tears. She lifts the hem of her white gown and steps closer, crouching down beside Michael. "Hey there, Space Boy," she says softly.
He's filthy and the armor he normally wears is nowhere to be found. His knees are hugged tightly to his chest and at the sound of her voice, he lifts his head to look up at what he first thinks is one of the spirits come to whisper degrading thoughts into his ear. Then he decides she's an angel, so far out of place that he knows something is very, very wrong. But a look up to her face through tear blurred eyes and he knows it's her. "You're not supposed to be here."
She shrugs at that and runs her hand through his hair down to the back of his neck. "I had to come get you, Silly." She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, pulling back to look at him. "You won't wake up, Michael and I'm worried. What happened?" She folds her legs underneath her, tucking herself close to him and keeping her hands on him. She knows with Michael he thrives from constant touch and soft words. She suspects that will be amplified here.
This was his worst nightmare, for Isabel to see the mess in his head where everything was truly in disarray, where he was constantly haunted. It terrifies him for anyone to see him this vulnerable. But with Isabel, it's different, He's sure that seeing him like this is going to make Isabel leave him for good. Who wants this kind of insecurity? "I won't wake up?"
Isabel shakes her head at Michael's question, her fingers still ruffling through his hair and down the back of his neck. "You don't remember? Max and I had to pick you up from work. You passed out and then when you woke up, you were groggy and woozy. We got there, put you in the van and you passed out again. We packed everything and we're on the road again. Max is driving but I can't get you to wake up."
She had begged and pleaded, even cried trying to wake him up because she knew the last thing Michael would want was her in his head. It is an absolute invasion of privacy because there is nothing he can hide from her in here. She can even control the things in his head if she chooses to. The fact that she is here at all is testament to how desperate they all are.
Michael bows his head, a crease forming in his brow as he tries to remember, tries to think of what had happened at work that day. "Uhm... I was working on a car. But I went out back to look for a carborator that would fit the make and model. Suits... two guys in suits, maybe three. I felt something in my neck." His palm lifts to lay flat to the side of his neck and when he removes it, a small pin prick of blood wells up there as if a needle has punctured the skin. "I don't remember."
One of the glowing spirits moves closer to Michael and Isabel. The incorporeal being leans down to whisper in Michael's ear too quietly for Isabel to hear. 'You can't help them. You're not strong enough, not fast enough. They'll die because you'll fail them.'
The spirit pulls away, retreating to the shadows, and Michael quickly shakes his head. "No... no, it's not true. It's not true." But deep down, he feels that it just might be true and it's evident in his expression, in the tenor of his voice and in the way the room takes on a darker feel to it.
Isabel glances up at the spirit pulls closer and then retreats. Her eyes narrow and she furrows her brow in concentration. She literally wills the room brighter, pushing the spirits back further. "My rules," she whispers then looks back to Michael. She smears the prick of blood with her thumb, holding it there for a moment. She inhales, breath trembling a bit as she struggles for control over the space without exerting too much of herself upon it. "What's not true, Michael?"
He looks sideways to her through bruised eyes, embarrassed to even repeat what had been said. "I have to wake up. Wake me up. I have to wake up." He pinches his own skin at his forearm. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.... You, stupid... wake up."
**
Michael gasped, coming to consciousness in a moving van that was more than familiar to him by now. The act threw Isabel out of his mind with him. Eyes wide and alert at what had just happened, he stared at her for a long, drawn out moment. Finally, he began to come back down into a slight sense of grogginess that wasn't as bad as it had been before. "We have to run. Someone found us. I don't know who they were... but they didn't get the dosage right and next time they probably will."
"We're already on the move," Max said with a glance in the rearview mirror at Michael. Subconciously, he checked on Isabel as well. Liz was sitting in the passenger seat, reading the map as they went.
Isabel reached over and took Michael's hand in hers, threading their fingers. With her free hand she ruffled his hair then moved to run her index finger down the bridge of his nose. "How do you feel? And I'm sorry...about invading. We tried everything else."
She was concerned that Michael was going to hate her for this, for walking around in his mind and invading that part of him. She'd been in Max's head often enough when they younger that he no longer minded. She'd never tried to go into Michael's head though.
He shook his head, trying to work through everything Isabel had seen. He wasn't going to talk about this with Max and Liz a foot away. But he also didn't want to leave Isabel hanging. "It's fine. It's fine, okay?" He gave her a look that he had given her so many times before. It was insecure, but only in a way that she could see it. "Are we okay?"
Isabel recognized the look and it didn't surprise her, given what she'd seen. She smiled at him and leaned in, kissing him gently on the lips. "We're more than okay," she assured him in a whisper before she kissed him again.