No no no.... (Thomas, Peter, DrEaMs!)
Thomas Littleton was hanging, suspended from a ceiling by his wrists. He was chained so that he could touch the floor only by standing on his tip-toes. He was barechested and his skin was covered in lacerations, and he was trembling and muttering gibberish. It sounded like begging...
Peter, terrified, rushed over to Thomas' side and he tried to reach up for the chains, but for some inexplicable dream reason, his arms were too short. And Peter Kemp was not used to being too short for anything... "Thomas, just...just hold on!"
"Kill me. Kill me. Peter. Kill me." Thomas mumbled, but he wasn't even looking at Peter. His eyes were staring unfocused at some spot in the room.
"Just...wait here!" As Peter rushed for help, he realised that was a stupid thing to say to someone chained to a ceiling, but there was no taking it back.
Nor was there any getting out of the room Thomas was chained in. The door was locked. Peter rushed back in, and he frowned. He had to help his friend. Thomas was in pain. Peter could pick locks, if only he could reach the damn shackles...
Before Peter could do anything, the door slammed open and Amaris rushed in, brushing past Peter as if she didn't even see him. "Hello, my little plaything."
Thomas looked up at her in fear, and instantly his frantic mumbling and begging started all over again. And there was something else. It looked like Thomas was crying.
Peter awoke with a start and the second he was fully awake, he jumped off his bed. A quick look at the windows told him it was still daytime, so he must have come in for a nap. Peter was taking anti-convulsants which prevented the visions that came with seizures, but it did nothing for the dreams, and if what he had just seen was precognitive, Thomas needed to know now. "Th...THOMAS!" Peter yelled out, randomly, as his brain wasn't as awake as his body was. That was one of the consequenses of putting it through hell and back.
Thomas appeared in Peter's doorway and he grinned. "You Thomased?"
"That's...surreal." Peter reached up to scratch his neck. "Did you move in while I was in Spain?" The rest of his family was still in Spain with the exception of his eldest daughter.
"No. I was visiting Tasha. What's up, Fruitcake, you look like you've seen the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"Amaris."
Thomas wasn't afraid of much, but that one word...her name was enough to cause such fear that Thomas felt like running out of the room right then. "Is she here?!" Thomas squeaked, and he looked like he was an inch away from leaping into Peter's arms and clinging.
"No! Dream. Dream of...you. And Amaris. Thomas I..."
Thoams gulped. "Dream? You had a dream? Dream of me? And Amaris? In a dream? A dreamy dream dream? A dreamy dream dream of death, Peter was there death!?"
"I don't know!" Peter wailed, feeling as panicked as Thomas sounded. He had just gotten Thomas back. Thomas was his other half and Peter was never as happy when Thomas wasn't around. "God, I...you were chained to the ceiling and I couldn't reach and she came in-"
Thomas swiped a hand through his hair and then he shook his head rapidly. "No. Uh uh. She's not getting me again. Third time is not a fucking charm, okay? So you just tell your dream...senders, that that dream got delivered to the wrong address!"
"Thomas, we'll do everything we can..." Peter bit his lip.
"Yeah, no fuckin' kidding we will. No letting me out of your sight, Mister." Thomas sighed and he sat down on Peter's bed. "Peter if that lunatic gets me again-"
"She won't. That's why I get the visions. To keep things from happening. If that's even what it was..."
"Yeah. Maybe it's just a fantasy of having me chained up gone one step too far..."
Peter gave Thomas a strange look and then he sat down beside his best friend and he chuckled. "You were topless."
"Why, Petunia. You naughty minx. We're married men, you and I!" It didn't make Thomas feel more safe, but joking with Peter was like slipping on a pair of familiar slippers after a bad day. It didn't change the day, but you felt a little bit more comfortable amidst the crap.
"Yes. Look at us." Peter reached out for Thomas' hand and he found it easily. Thomas' hand was always there when you needed one to hold or to help you up. "Married men. Who would have thought."
"You mean who would have assumed Brother Peter would marry a Spanish dominatrix, Brother Thomas would marry a rock star and a five-hundred year old dead woman, and Brother Stuart would be 'living in sin' with my baby sister? I think no one, Peter. Not even your visions could have foreseen that one..."
"True. But I knew you'd always be there. As a friend, as my brother...as whatever. It didn't matter because you were in my life no matter what path it took. And that hasn't chaned. No one's taking you away from me, Thomas." Peter's hand tightened around Thomas'. "No one."
Thomas smiled at Peter and he leaned forward to kiss Peter's cheek. "Damn right." If anyone could protect him, Peter could. "You just...tell me if you have any more of those dreams. So...so I know what to look out for." Or what to expect... "And for now, we'll try not to think about it. Because I just made the awesomest thing in the blender and you have to come look at it! It's green!"
"What the hell did you put in there?" Peter asked warily.
"Grapes, ice cream and mint sauce. It looks like slime! Come on!" And he dragged Peter off the bed and down into the kitchen.
Peter did not eat the concotion in the blender, though he did agree. It looked like slime.
Peter, terrified, rushed over to Thomas' side and he tried to reach up for the chains, but for some inexplicable dream reason, his arms were too short. And Peter Kemp was not used to being too short for anything... "Thomas, just...just hold on!"
"Kill me. Kill me. Peter. Kill me." Thomas mumbled, but he wasn't even looking at Peter. His eyes were staring unfocused at some spot in the room.
"Just...wait here!" As Peter rushed for help, he realised that was a stupid thing to say to someone chained to a ceiling, but there was no taking it back.
Nor was there any getting out of the room Thomas was chained in. The door was locked. Peter rushed back in, and he frowned. He had to help his friend. Thomas was in pain. Peter could pick locks, if only he could reach the damn shackles...
Before Peter could do anything, the door slammed open and Amaris rushed in, brushing past Peter as if she didn't even see him. "Hello, my little plaything."
Thomas looked up at her in fear, and instantly his frantic mumbling and begging started all over again. And there was something else. It looked like Thomas was crying.
Peter awoke with a start and the second he was fully awake, he jumped off his bed. A quick look at the windows told him it was still daytime, so he must have come in for a nap. Peter was taking anti-convulsants which prevented the visions that came with seizures, but it did nothing for the dreams, and if what he had just seen was precognitive, Thomas needed to know now. "Th...THOMAS!" Peter yelled out, randomly, as his brain wasn't as awake as his body was. That was one of the consequenses of putting it through hell and back.
Thomas appeared in Peter's doorway and he grinned. "You Thomased?"
"That's...surreal." Peter reached up to scratch his neck. "Did you move in while I was in Spain?" The rest of his family was still in Spain with the exception of his eldest daughter.
"No. I was visiting Tasha. What's up, Fruitcake, you look like you've seen the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"Amaris."
Thomas wasn't afraid of much, but that one word...her name was enough to cause such fear that Thomas felt like running out of the room right then. "Is she here?!" Thomas squeaked, and he looked like he was an inch away from leaping into Peter's arms and clinging.
"No! Dream. Dream of...you. And Amaris. Thomas I..."
Thoams gulped. "Dream? You had a dream? Dream of me? And Amaris? In a dream? A dreamy dream dream? A dreamy dream dream of death, Peter was there death!?"
"I don't know!" Peter wailed, feeling as panicked as Thomas sounded. He had just gotten Thomas back. Thomas was his other half and Peter was never as happy when Thomas wasn't around. "God, I...you were chained to the ceiling and I couldn't reach and she came in-"
Thomas swiped a hand through his hair and then he shook his head rapidly. "No. Uh uh. She's not getting me again. Third time is not a fucking charm, okay? So you just tell your dream...senders, that that dream got delivered to the wrong address!"
"Thomas, we'll do everything we can..." Peter bit his lip.
"Yeah, no fuckin' kidding we will. No letting me out of your sight, Mister." Thomas sighed and he sat down on Peter's bed. "Peter if that lunatic gets me again-"
"She won't. That's why I get the visions. To keep things from happening. If that's even what it was..."
"Yeah. Maybe it's just a fantasy of having me chained up gone one step too far..."
Peter gave Thomas a strange look and then he sat down beside his best friend and he chuckled. "You were topless."
"Why, Petunia. You naughty minx. We're married men, you and I!" It didn't make Thomas feel more safe, but joking with Peter was like slipping on a pair of familiar slippers after a bad day. It didn't change the day, but you felt a little bit more comfortable amidst the crap.
"Yes. Look at us." Peter reached out for Thomas' hand and he found it easily. Thomas' hand was always there when you needed one to hold or to help you up. "Married men. Who would have thought."
"You mean who would have assumed Brother Peter would marry a Spanish dominatrix, Brother Thomas would marry a rock star and a five-hundred year old dead woman, and Brother Stuart would be 'living in sin' with my baby sister? I think no one, Peter. Not even your visions could have foreseen that one..."
"True. But I knew you'd always be there. As a friend, as my brother...as whatever. It didn't matter because you were in my life no matter what path it took. And that hasn't chaned. No one's taking you away from me, Thomas." Peter's hand tightened around Thomas'. "No one."
Thomas smiled at Peter and he leaned forward to kiss Peter's cheek. "Damn right." If anyone could protect him, Peter could. "You just...tell me if you have any more of those dreams. So...so I know what to look out for." Or what to expect... "And for now, we'll try not to think about it. Because I just made the awesomest thing in the blender and you have to come look at it! It's green!"
"What the hell did you put in there?" Peter asked warily.
"Grapes, ice cream and mint sauce. It looks like slime! Come on!" And he dragged Peter off the bed and down into the kitchen.
Peter did not eat the concotion in the blender, though he did agree. It looked like slime.