In the Forests of the Night (Part 2 of 2)
“In the Forests of the Night” (Part 2 of 2)
By December21st
Fandom: Lost Girl
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bo/Dyson
Warnings: Spoilers through the end of Season 3. Temporary character death. Style of ending may not feel complete.
Summary: When Dyson sleeps as a wolf, he dreams of forests. Post-3x13 "Those Who Wander" story.
Part One Starts Here
In the forest that night, it's raining. Not the light drizzle that he's often experienced, but a real downpour, dulling all of his senses and drenching his fur. The low, dark clouds, stretching across the horizon, have covered the moon, making it impossible to see more than a few yards even with his improved night vision. The creek by the waterfall is overflowing its bed, the water looking angry and lethal as it surges through the forest, black with ash. If Bo is here anywhere, he's not going to be able to find her in this weather.
When he wakes in the morning, he almost expects his fur to still be wet, but it's dry and smells of the dust of his loft, nothing more. It makes him wonder again if these are just dreams. Dyson transforms, struggles to his feet, and goes through another day of humdrum routine. Given how much he's looking forward to going to bed that night, it occurs to him that he's probably depressed. If the dreams turn out to be nothing, he should probably find someone to talk to, someone like that police psychologist, but Fae. They'll probably advise him to take a lover, or find a new hobby, or something like that. Neither option sounds particularly appealing. But he misses Bo, and accepting that she's probably dead is a pain that he's not ready to face yet.
Dyson arrives in the forest just as the sun is beginning to set. Seedlings have started to grow in the blighted area, optimistic green leaves poking up through the ash. The ground and ash are still sodden with water after last night's heavy rainfall. In the real world, it would take months or years for the land to start recovering from such sweeping devastation, but here the land has its own ideas, not tamed by science and what is possible. An eagle soars overhead, screaming at him before turning and heading back towards the far-off green hills that escaped the wrath of Bo's father. He lopes eagerly through the new beginnings of what may someday become a copse of trees, looking for a decent-sized clearing. Dyson's nowhere near the waterfall, but if Bo is following him into his dreams, that shouldn't matter. He finds what must have once been a meadow, a flat stretch of land with no tree stumps or other signs of burned plants.
He wills himself into his two-legged form, the process easier now that he understands how it works in this place. Dyson notes that he's clothed again, and leans against the husk of a dead tree on the edge of the former meadow, waiting, amused by the modesty of his dreams.
Some twenty minutes later, hands wrap over Dyson's eyes from behind. "Guess who!" Bo's voice greets him. He resists the temptation to turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the empty land in front of him.
"You have any trouble getting away?" Dyson inquires, as he feels Bo rest her head against his back.
"Nope," she asserts. "The old man is clueless. I let him catch me watching ... well, let's just say I was watching the Playboy channel and he thought that's what I was hiding. So now he's leaving me to my own, um, entertainments."
"Bo, are you ...feeding?" Dyson wonders, concerned.
"No, I'm not. It's weird, I'm never hungry, not in that place. And not regular food hungry either. And it's been ...how long since my father took me there?"
"Eight months and seventeen days."
"Has it been that long?" Bo sounds amazed.
"It feels like a hundred years." Dyson admits. Bo is quiet for a moment, and he hopes he hasn't made her uncomfortable.
"I need you to do me a favor." Bo asks hesitantly.
"Anything." He means it.
"I finally found Lauren yesterday. She's being held by some of Taft's former people in a research center in the middle of Alaska. Can you get her back for me?"
"Of course." Even if he wasn't willing to do whatever Bo wanted, he'd come to think of the good doctor as a friend. "I'll make sure she's safe as soon as possible." Bo doesn't need to know that he's in no shape to mount a rescue mission personally, he can make sure that it gets done, and done right.
Bo gives him as many details as she could discover by watching Lauren through a window in her father's realm. They talk idly for some time, Dyson sitting cross-legged on the ground as Bo leans against his back, both watching occasional clouds skitter across the night sky. Dyson updates Bo on everyone else she wants to know about: Kenzi (Bo laughs when Dyson passes along her "hey") and Hale, Trick, and Tamsin. That Aife is missing again. Dyson reports on the new Ash and her penchant for paperwork. It's all very comfortable, two old friends getting caught up.
When the time comes for them to go their separate ways, Bo warns Dyson that they better not meet for a while, lest her father become suspicious. She insists that they verify their latest theory, that Bo doesn't vanish until Dyson looks at her face. This time, the theory holds sound.
In the morning, Dyson leaves a message for an old acquaintance, the leader of a small pack of mercenary wolf-shifters that he'd fought alongside centuries ago. They specialize in working for individuals or small corporations in cold climates, disdaining the politics of either countries or large corporations at war. He knows they can be out of contact for months at a time, but hopes that isn't the case this time.
His hope is validated when the mercenary leader contacts him three days later, and all necessary arrangements are made. The next time Dyson talks to him, Lauren is on a flight home, and the other wolf informs Dyson that he was actually impressed with the doctor. It seemed that she had found a way of synthesizing cyanide out of almonds she'd stolen from the kitchen, and had been regularly dosing her captors with it whenever she could. Their way was faster, of course, and there was a tricky bit with the guards (Dyson can practically hear him grinning on the other side of the phone), but she would have rescued herself eventually.
The night of Lauren's welcome home party, Dyson changes into a wolf before he goes to sleep, settling down on top of the covers, feeling content as he drift off. The first thing he sees in the forest is a tangle of wild blackberry bushes nearly surrounding a small clearing. The fruit on the bushes is still green, but the bushes themselves are nearly as tall as Dyson is himself when he's a man. Beyond the clearing, most of the trees have grown taller than that, skinny boughs full of leaves. Dyson can sense the life in the new forest. Bees happily buzz around the blossoms on the blackberry bushes while a garter snake slithers out from below. A squirrel chatters angrily in the distance. It's been no more than two weeks since the woods were consumed by fire, and it's already well on its way to full recovery.
He starts exploring, reveling in the new life of the forest. Dyson's not just a wolf, and the man in him likes being around people, and having friends that he spends time with regularly. But he's not just a man either, and the wolf in him needs this, needs to be connected with nature on a primal level. He finds a river tumbling over a bed of smooth stones, too wide to cross, and spots several fish struggling upstream. He barks at them, because the wolf he is now wants to. He finds a ravine, half-covered in ivy, that smells like a raccoon stayed there two or three nights ago. He finds a cave that cuts deep into a hillside, moss making the entrance slippery, mushrooms growing up one wall.
When he comes out of the cave, Bo is waiting for him, her back to the cave so he can't see her face. He butts the back of her leg with his muzzle, barking at her.
"Why, hello there!" she laughs. Bo squats down and ruffles her hand through his fur. "Love what you've done with the place."
He shifts, almost reluctantly, to talk to her. "It's all the ash. Very rich, good for the soil."
"Sometimes things have to die to come back stronger," Bo agrees philosophically. "And sometimes they don't. I saw that you got Lauren back, Dyson. Thank you. Thank you so much. I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything," Dyson argues. He's wrapped his arms around her from behind, being careful not to look at her face. This, the woman he loves in his arms, this is what he wants more than anything in the world. In either world.
He wakes up with Bo's words echoing in his memories, certain of what he must do that day, that what Tamsin's sorority friends once told him after the accident works the way he thinks it does. Dyson visits Tamsin again at the hospital; there is no more change in her condition today than there was in the last six months. Lying on the hospital bed, she looks more like a corpse than some corpses Dyson's seen, her eyes sunken, her hair thinning to nearly bald, her limbs spindly and brittle-looking. He takes stock of the machine that's breathing for her, the tubes that are feeding her, the monitoring equipment that makes sure nothing ever changes.
He makes sure the door is closed, and sits on the edge of Tamsin's bed, speaking softly. "I'm sorry. I hope this is the right thing to do, but I know you wouldn't want to stay like this. Sometimes things have to die to come back stronger."
Dyson approaches the machine that's breathing for her, feeling the awkwardness of his crutches as he does, conscious of how artificial it all is after his time in the forest. He leans to one side of the machine, putting all of his weight on one crutch as his eyes flash yellow and his other hand distorts and becomes longer, his trim fingernails becoming sharp and deadly claws. He reaches out and flicks his wrist and the machine's power cable splits in two. In the time it takes him to stand upright again, nothing happens. Then the monitors are all screaming, alerting the humans that something has gone wrong. He doesn't know what to expect, but over the alarms, Dyson can hear hoofbeats approaching, and then there's a horse there, rearing and spreading its wings, even though there isn't room for it in the tiny hospital room. A woman, dressed more like a biker than an angel, dismounts from the horse and calms it, muttering gently in its ear.
"She smells a wolf," the woman explains and the horse whinnies, as Dyson tries to show it that he means it no harm by backing away and showing it his palms. She goes over to Tasmin and, using the only hand she has, starts unhooking sensors and feeding tubes. Tamsin opens abruptly her eyes, looking first at the woman, then at Dyson. Once she's unfettered, Tamsin cautiously gets to her feet and approaches Dyson. "You do this to me, wolf?"
"I did," he replies. No explanations will make any difference now.
"Thank you." Tamsin kisses him chastely on the cheek, then mounts the winged horse behind the other woman. The horse starts moving again, galloping through the wall as though it wasn't there. Dyson can hear the hoofbeats fade into the distance as a nurse bursts into the room in response to the alarms. He doesn't know if it took this long because the response time at the hospital is really terrible, or if some Fae magics warped his sense of time, allowing everything he just experienced to happen in mere moments.
"Where is she?" the nurse demands, looking around as though expecting to find Tamsin hiding crouched in a corner.
"She rode off into the sunset," Dyson replies truthfully, glancing though the window at the setting sun. He doesn't say anything else, just walks steadily out of the room with the aid of his crutches, and the nurse staring after him in utter confusion.
That evening, as Kenzi kibitzes, he talks to Trick about possible ways to get Bo back from the realm she's trapped in. Kenzi suggests that he just hang on to Bo and bring her out of the dream with him, Nightmare on Elm Street fashion. It's not quite the way that Bo got her out of Baba Yaga's realm, or the way Bo got Dyson out of the Temple in Bo's Dawning, but if it worked on Freddy Krueger, Kenzi reasons that it should work on Bo. Trick has his own ideas - nothing definite, but he has a few ideas involving the use of mirrors and the Wanderer Tarot card that seems to be connected to Bo's father. Trick seems more optimistic than Dyson has seen him in a long time. Dyson paces the floor of Trick's quarters at the Dal, the wolf in him feeling restless and trapped, hating the crutches he has to use and looking forward to the freedom he has from them in his dreams.
A light breeze stirs the leaves of the trees, measurably taller tonight than they were just last night. Dyson finds himself not far from the meadow where Bo told him about Lauren. The grass in the meadow is green and about waist-height, rippling in the breeze like water on a lake. The moon is full and low on the horizon, and the air is warm and smells of pollen. The forest is still working on bringing itself back to life. Dyson sits by a soft bed of moss near the edge of the meadow and waits, his chin on his paws, watching the grass ebb and flow while the sound of nearby cicadas makes the entire scene hypnotically relaxing.
"Dyson," her voice comes from behind the trees, sounding serious. Like something's wrong.
He shifts, willing himself to be in his other shape, his bones twisting and rearranging themselves, his fur disappearing and changing, teeth and claws morphing into something less dangerous and more domestic. As his body changes, he turns around, closing his eyes, making himself even more vulnerable. He's grateful that Bo's not actually trying to hurt him when he feels her small fists pounding against his chest.
"Did you forget to tell me something?" she demands, slowing and then stopping her assault altogether.
"Tamsin died today." he admits, not surprised that Bo is upset, but not sure when she expected him to let her know about it.
"No, I'm not talking about Tamsin. She's getting drunk in what I can only assume is Valhalla with a bunch of Vikings. I'm talking about you." Dyson feels her finger poke him in the middle of the chest.
"You don't need to worry about me."
"I saw you, taking to Trick and Kenzi. Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Bo thumps him on the chest for emphasis.
"I didn't want you to worry." He's trying to be disarming, to deflect. She's the one that's in trouble; she needs to be worrying about herself, not about him.
"Well, I am worried, Dyson. Damn it, you need to tell me these things!" Dyson smiles at her intensity. Bo's voice drops, and her voice becomes seductive. "Maybe I can help."
And then she's kissing him, tentatively at first, but with increased ardor, and it's an effort to keep his eyes closed with her lips blazing a path of kisses along his jawline as he places his own lips on any patch of skin he can find.
He hasn't even managed to get her top off before he first feels the euphoric rush of his chi being pulled out of him, and he remembers what Bo looks like when she's feeding like this, her eyes glowing blue and wearing a predatory grin of anticipation. Within moments he feels the tangy adrenalin surge he recognizes from those few times in the past that Bo has had to heal him, but for right now, his only interest is in the very remarkable succubus soon to be naked in his arms.
They make love in the meadow, on a soft bed of moss as they take the time to learn each other's bodies anew. When they are both fully sated, Bo snuggles against Dyson, her back to his chest so that he can open his eyes again, his arms protectively wrapped around her waist and chest. They don't talk, satisfied to lie together and watch the stars in the clear night sky.
When Dyson wakes in the morning, he's alone. He'd unreasonably hoped that Kenzi's cockamamie theory was right, that he'd be able to bring Bo back with him just by hanging on to her. He feels different, better than he has in longer then he can easily remember, which he readily attributes to the events of his dream. Reality be damned, if these are only dreams, he'll take what he can get. Dyson grabs the crutches by his bed almost without thought, but when he gets to his feet, Dyson suddenly realizes that he doesn't need them. He walks across the room, tentatively at first, but there is no pain, no weakness, his legs as sturdy as though he'd never been injured. He runs around his loft, the first lap as a man, the second lap as a wolf, both forms fully capable of speeds their non-Fae equivalents ... could only dream of.
That night at the Dal is friendly chaos. Lauren is clucking over the medical reports she'd compiled that day, calling Dyson's new mobility nothing less than a miracle. Trick advises Dyson that he's managed to concoct an aromatic that will allow Dyson to bring others into his dream with him, and it's not until then that Dyson notices the collection of backpacks and rucksacks in the corner. Trick's bag is overflowing with trinkets and charms, potions and other strange concoctions. Lauren's case smells of the sterility of science equipment, while Hale's rucksack has the business end of two weapons poking out of it, while its bulk suggests it contains more. Kenzi's backpack bears the scent of trail mix and beef jerky.
Dyson looks around the room, at this collection of friends, ready to risk everything to get Bo back. And standing at the doorway, looking wary but very much alive, is Tamsin. He approaches her, giving her a big bear hug.
"It's good to see you," he welcomes her, grinning.
"It's good to be seen," Tamsin admits, allowing herself to smile. The others are looking at her curiously, none of them aware of what happened in her hospital room only the day before. "This looks like a rescue mission. You got room on the team for one more? I have some intel that might help."
"Of course!" Dyson leads Tamsin over to Trick, where she starts briefing them on what she knows.
It's nearly midnight by the time they're gathered in a circle in the middle of Trick's great room, and Dyson prepares to light the incense that will transport them all to the forest of his dreams.
"Is everyone ready?" Dyson looks around the circle to see a series of nods. "Okay, then let's go get back our lost girl."
*** The End ***
By December21st
Fandom: Lost Girl
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Bo/Dyson
Warnings: Spoilers through the end of Season 3. Temporary character death. Style of ending may not feel complete.
Summary: When Dyson sleeps as a wolf, he dreams of forests. Post-3x13 "Those Who Wander" story.
Part One Starts Here
In the forest that night, it's raining. Not the light drizzle that he's often experienced, but a real downpour, dulling all of his senses and drenching his fur. The low, dark clouds, stretching across the horizon, have covered the moon, making it impossible to see more than a few yards even with his improved night vision. The creek by the waterfall is overflowing its bed, the water looking angry and lethal as it surges through the forest, black with ash. If Bo is here anywhere, he's not going to be able to find her in this weather.
When he wakes in the morning, he almost expects his fur to still be wet, but it's dry and smells of the dust of his loft, nothing more. It makes him wonder again if these are just dreams. Dyson transforms, struggles to his feet, and goes through another day of humdrum routine. Given how much he's looking forward to going to bed that night, it occurs to him that he's probably depressed. If the dreams turn out to be nothing, he should probably find someone to talk to, someone like that police psychologist, but Fae. They'll probably advise him to take a lover, or find a new hobby, or something like that. Neither option sounds particularly appealing. But he misses Bo, and accepting that she's probably dead is a pain that he's not ready to face yet.
Dyson arrives in the forest just as the sun is beginning to set. Seedlings have started to grow in the blighted area, optimistic green leaves poking up through the ash. The ground and ash are still sodden with water after last night's heavy rainfall. In the real world, it would take months or years for the land to start recovering from such sweeping devastation, but here the land has its own ideas, not tamed by science and what is possible. An eagle soars overhead, screaming at him before turning and heading back towards the far-off green hills that escaped the wrath of Bo's father. He lopes eagerly through the new beginnings of what may someday become a copse of trees, looking for a decent-sized clearing. Dyson's nowhere near the waterfall, but if Bo is following him into his dreams, that shouldn't matter. He finds what must have once been a meadow, a flat stretch of land with no tree stumps or other signs of burned plants.
He wills himself into his two-legged form, the process easier now that he understands how it works in this place. Dyson notes that he's clothed again, and leans against the husk of a dead tree on the edge of the former meadow, waiting, amused by the modesty of his dreams.
Some twenty minutes later, hands wrap over Dyson's eyes from behind. "Guess who!" Bo's voice greets him. He resists the temptation to turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the empty land in front of him.
"You have any trouble getting away?" Dyson inquires, as he feels Bo rest her head against his back.
"Nope," she asserts. "The old man is clueless. I let him catch me watching ... well, let's just say I was watching the Playboy channel and he thought that's what I was hiding. So now he's leaving me to my own, um, entertainments."
"Bo, are you ...feeding?" Dyson wonders, concerned.
"No, I'm not. It's weird, I'm never hungry, not in that place. And not regular food hungry either. And it's been ...how long since my father took me there?"
"Eight months and seventeen days."
"Has it been that long?" Bo sounds amazed.
"It feels like a hundred years." Dyson admits. Bo is quiet for a moment, and he hopes he hasn't made her uncomfortable.
"I need you to do me a favor." Bo asks hesitantly.
"Anything." He means it.
"I finally found Lauren yesterday. She's being held by some of Taft's former people in a research center in the middle of Alaska. Can you get her back for me?"
"Of course." Even if he wasn't willing to do whatever Bo wanted, he'd come to think of the good doctor as a friend. "I'll make sure she's safe as soon as possible." Bo doesn't need to know that he's in no shape to mount a rescue mission personally, he can make sure that it gets done, and done right.
Bo gives him as many details as she could discover by watching Lauren through a window in her father's realm. They talk idly for some time, Dyson sitting cross-legged on the ground as Bo leans against his back, both watching occasional clouds skitter across the night sky. Dyson updates Bo on everyone else she wants to know about: Kenzi (Bo laughs when Dyson passes along her "hey") and Hale, Trick, and Tamsin. That Aife is missing again. Dyson reports on the new Ash and her penchant for paperwork. It's all very comfortable, two old friends getting caught up.
When the time comes for them to go their separate ways, Bo warns Dyson that they better not meet for a while, lest her father become suspicious. She insists that they verify their latest theory, that Bo doesn't vanish until Dyson looks at her face. This time, the theory holds sound.
In the morning, Dyson leaves a message for an old acquaintance, the leader of a small pack of mercenary wolf-shifters that he'd fought alongside centuries ago. They specialize in working for individuals or small corporations in cold climates, disdaining the politics of either countries or large corporations at war. He knows they can be out of contact for months at a time, but hopes that isn't the case this time.
His hope is validated when the mercenary leader contacts him three days later, and all necessary arrangements are made. The next time Dyson talks to him, Lauren is on a flight home, and the other wolf informs Dyson that he was actually impressed with the doctor. It seemed that she had found a way of synthesizing cyanide out of almonds she'd stolen from the kitchen, and had been regularly dosing her captors with it whenever she could. Their way was faster, of course, and there was a tricky bit with the guards (Dyson can practically hear him grinning on the other side of the phone), but she would have rescued herself eventually.
The night of Lauren's welcome home party, Dyson changes into a wolf before he goes to sleep, settling down on top of the covers, feeling content as he drift off. The first thing he sees in the forest is a tangle of wild blackberry bushes nearly surrounding a small clearing. The fruit on the bushes is still green, but the bushes themselves are nearly as tall as Dyson is himself when he's a man. Beyond the clearing, most of the trees have grown taller than that, skinny boughs full of leaves. Dyson can sense the life in the new forest. Bees happily buzz around the blossoms on the blackberry bushes while a garter snake slithers out from below. A squirrel chatters angrily in the distance. It's been no more than two weeks since the woods were consumed by fire, and it's already well on its way to full recovery.
He starts exploring, reveling in the new life of the forest. Dyson's not just a wolf, and the man in him likes being around people, and having friends that he spends time with regularly. But he's not just a man either, and the wolf in him needs this, needs to be connected with nature on a primal level. He finds a river tumbling over a bed of smooth stones, too wide to cross, and spots several fish struggling upstream. He barks at them, because the wolf he is now wants to. He finds a ravine, half-covered in ivy, that smells like a raccoon stayed there two or three nights ago. He finds a cave that cuts deep into a hillside, moss making the entrance slippery, mushrooms growing up one wall.
When he comes out of the cave, Bo is waiting for him, her back to the cave so he can't see her face. He butts the back of her leg with his muzzle, barking at her.
"Why, hello there!" she laughs. Bo squats down and ruffles her hand through his fur. "Love what you've done with the place."
He shifts, almost reluctantly, to talk to her. "It's all the ash. Very rich, good for the soil."
"Sometimes things have to die to come back stronger," Bo agrees philosophically. "And sometimes they don't. I saw that you got Lauren back, Dyson. Thank you. Thank you so much. I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything," Dyson argues. He's wrapped his arms around her from behind, being careful not to look at her face. This, the woman he loves in his arms, this is what he wants more than anything in the world. In either world.
He wakes up with Bo's words echoing in his memories, certain of what he must do that day, that what Tamsin's sorority friends once told him after the accident works the way he thinks it does. Dyson visits Tamsin again at the hospital; there is no more change in her condition today than there was in the last six months. Lying on the hospital bed, she looks more like a corpse than some corpses Dyson's seen, her eyes sunken, her hair thinning to nearly bald, her limbs spindly and brittle-looking. He takes stock of the machine that's breathing for her, the tubes that are feeding her, the monitoring equipment that makes sure nothing ever changes.
He makes sure the door is closed, and sits on the edge of Tamsin's bed, speaking softly. "I'm sorry. I hope this is the right thing to do, but I know you wouldn't want to stay like this. Sometimes things have to die to come back stronger."
Dyson approaches the machine that's breathing for her, feeling the awkwardness of his crutches as he does, conscious of how artificial it all is after his time in the forest. He leans to one side of the machine, putting all of his weight on one crutch as his eyes flash yellow and his other hand distorts and becomes longer, his trim fingernails becoming sharp and deadly claws. He reaches out and flicks his wrist and the machine's power cable splits in two. In the time it takes him to stand upright again, nothing happens. Then the monitors are all screaming, alerting the humans that something has gone wrong. He doesn't know what to expect, but over the alarms, Dyson can hear hoofbeats approaching, and then there's a horse there, rearing and spreading its wings, even though there isn't room for it in the tiny hospital room. A woman, dressed more like a biker than an angel, dismounts from the horse and calms it, muttering gently in its ear.
"She smells a wolf," the woman explains and the horse whinnies, as Dyson tries to show it that he means it no harm by backing away and showing it his palms. She goes over to Tasmin and, using the only hand she has, starts unhooking sensors and feeding tubes. Tamsin opens abruptly her eyes, looking first at the woman, then at Dyson. Once she's unfettered, Tamsin cautiously gets to her feet and approaches Dyson. "You do this to me, wolf?"
"I did," he replies. No explanations will make any difference now.
"Thank you." Tamsin kisses him chastely on the cheek, then mounts the winged horse behind the other woman. The horse starts moving again, galloping through the wall as though it wasn't there. Dyson can hear the hoofbeats fade into the distance as a nurse bursts into the room in response to the alarms. He doesn't know if it took this long because the response time at the hospital is really terrible, or if some Fae magics warped his sense of time, allowing everything he just experienced to happen in mere moments.
"Where is she?" the nurse demands, looking around as though expecting to find Tamsin hiding crouched in a corner.
"She rode off into the sunset," Dyson replies truthfully, glancing though the window at the setting sun. He doesn't say anything else, just walks steadily out of the room with the aid of his crutches, and the nurse staring after him in utter confusion.
That evening, as Kenzi kibitzes, he talks to Trick about possible ways to get Bo back from the realm she's trapped in. Kenzi suggests that he just hang on to Bo and bring her out of the dream with him, Nightmare on Elm Street fashion. It's not quite the way that Bo got her out of Baba Yaga's realm, or the way Bo got Dyson out of the Temple in Bo's Dawning, but if it worked on Freddy Krueger, Kenzi reasons that it should work on Bo. Trick has his own ideas - nothing definite, but he has a few ideas involving the use of mirrors and the Wanderer Tarot card that seems to be connected to Bo's father. Trick seems more optimistic than Dyson has seen him in a long time. Dyson paces the floor of Trick's quarters at the Dal, the wolf in him feeling restless and trapped, hating the crutches he has to use and looking forward to the freedom he has from them in his dreams.
A light breeze stirs the leaves of the trees, measurably taller tonight than they were just last night. Dyson finds himself not far from the meadow where Bo told him about Lauren. The grass in the meadow is green and about waist-height, rippling in the breeze like water on a lake. The moon is full and low on the horizon, and the air is warm and smells of pollen. The forest is still working on bringing itself back to life. Dyson sits by a soft bed of moss near the edge of the meadow and waits, his chin on his paws, watching the grass ebb and flow while the sound of nearby cicadas makes the entire scene hypnotically relaxing.
"Dyson," her voice comes from behind the trees, sounding serious. Like something's wrong.
He shifts, willing himself to be in his other shape, his bones twisting and rearranging themselves, his fur disappearing and changing, teeth and claws morphing into something less dangerous and more domestic. As his body changes, he turns around, closing his eyes, making himself even more vulnerable. He's grateful that Bo's not actually trying to hurt him when he feels her small fists pounding against his chest.
"Did you forget to tell me something?" she demands, slowing and then stopping her assault altogether.
"Tamsin died today." he admits, not surprised that Bo is upset, but not sure when she expected him to let her know about it.
"No, I'm not talking about Tamsin. She's getting drunk in what I can only assume is Valhalla with a bunch of Vikings. I'm talking about you." Dyson feels her finger poke him in the middle of the chest.
"You don't need to worry about me."
"I saw you, taking to Trick and Kenzi. Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Bo thumps him on the chest for emphasis.
"I didn't want you to worry." He's trying to be disarming, to deflect. She's the one that's in trouble; she needs to be worrying about herself, not about him.
"Well, I am worried, Dyson. Damn it, you need to tell me these things!" Dyson smiles at her intensity. Bo's voice drops, and her voice becomes seductive. "Maybe I can help."
And then she's kissing him, tentatively at first, but with increased ardor, and it's an effort to keep his eyes closed with her lips blazing a path of kisses along his jawline as he places his own lips on any patch of skin he can find.
He hasn't even managed to get her top off before he first feels the euphoric rush of his chi being pulled out of him, and he remembers what Bo looks like when she's feeding like this, her eyes glowing blue and wearing a predatory grin of anticipation. Within moments he feels the tangy adrenalin surge he recognizes from those few times in the past that Bo has had to heal him, but for right now, his only interest is in the very remarkable succubus soon to be naked in his arms.
They make love in the meadow, on a soft bed of moss as they take the time to learn each other's bodies anew. When they are both fully sated, Bo snuggles against Dyson, her back to his chest so that he can open his eyes again, his arms protectively wrapped around her waist and chest. They don't talk, satisfied to lie together and watch the stars in the clear night sky.
When Dyson wakes in the morning, he's alone. He'd unreasonably hoped that Kenzi's cockamamie theory was right, that he'd be able to bring Bo back with him just by hanging on to her. He feels different, better than he has in longer then he can easily remember, which he readily attributes to the events of his dream. Reality be damned, if these are only dreams, he'll take what he can get. Dyson grabs the crutches by his bed almost without thought, but when he gets to his feet, Dyson suddenly realizes that he doesn't need them. He walks across the room, tentatively at first, but there is no pain, no weakness, his legs as sturdy as though he'd never been injured. He runs around his loft, the first lap as a man, the second lap as a wolf, both forms fully capable of speeds their non-Fae equivalents ... could only dream of.
That night at the Dal is friendly chaos. Lauren is clucking over the medical reports she'd compiled that day, calling Dyson's new mobility nothing less than a miracle. Trick advises Dyson that he's managed to concoct an aromatic that will allow Dyson to bring others into his dream with him, and it's not until then that Dyson notices the collection of backpacks and rucksacks in the corner. Trick's bag is overflowing with trinkets and charms, potions and other strange concoctions. Lauren's case smells of the sterility of science equipment, while Hale's rucksack has the business end of two weapons poking out of it, while its bulk suggests it contains more. Kenzi's backpack bears the scent of trail mix and beef jerky.
Dyson looks around the room, at this collection of friends, ready to risk everything to get Bo back. And standing at the doorway, looking wary but very much alive, is Tamsin. He approaches her, giving her a big bear hug.
"It's good to see you," he welcomes her, grinning.
"It's good to be seen," Tamsin admits, allowing herself to smile. The others are looking at her curiously, none of them aware of what happened in her hospital room only the day before. "This looks like a rescue mission. You got room on the team for one more? I have some intel that might help."
"Of course!" Dyson leads Tamsin over to Trick, where she starts briefing them on what she knows.
It's nearly midnight by the time they're gathered in a circle in the middle of Trick's great room, and Dyson prepares to light the incense that will transport them all to the forest of his dreams.
"Is everyone ready?" Dyson looks around the circle to see a series of nods. "Okay, then let's go get back our lost girl."
*** The End ***