[38: video]
He dreams of Cindy. Of course. He always dreams of Cindy. But this is the first time in a long while he’s heard her voice, and for a moment he’s is relieved that he still remembers. Another moment and he realizes she’s calling for him somewhere within that tower of roaring flames.
Slim, feminine hands press down on his shoulders, and now Amanda’s talking to him, telling him it’s for his own good, that it’s best for them both, you’re only hurting yourself, Mark, it’s time to move on. He shakes his head violently, tries to tear away, but he’s gone small and light for some reason, bird boned like Cindy, and Amanda holds him fast, and the house burns and crumbles to ash and Cindy never stops calling for him until he feels the sting of a needle in his neck--
He wakes flailing for the lamp and finds his comm unit instead.
What appears on the network is a (possibly) familiar round-cheeked boy. His eyes are unfocused, and his face is lit from underneath by the faint glow of the comm’s screen. He squeezes the little device like a talisman, breathing quick and harsh in an increasingly desperate attempt to calm himself down, to tell himself it was just a dream.
But the dream hit awfully close to home, and he’s small and weak now, just like he felt, and does that make it true? He can’t logically prove it. In fact, logical thought is not happening at all right now. It’s dark and he’s afraid and he’s being assaulted by feelings he barely knows how to recognize anymore, much less cope with. It’s too much. The child wins out over the adult in Mark, and he doubles over, sobbing helplessly.
Slim, feminine hands press down on his shoulders, and now Amanda’s talking to him, telling him it’s for his own good, that it’s best for them both, you’re only hurting yourself, Mark, it’s time to move on. He shakes his head violently, tries to tear away, but he’s gone small and light for some reason, bird boned like Cindy, and Amanda holds him fast, and the house burns and crumbles to ash and Cindy never stops calling for him until he feels the sting of a needle in his neck--
He wakes flailing for the lamp and finds his comm unit instead.
What appears on the network is a (possibly) familiar round-cheeked boy. His eyes are unfocused, and his face is lit from underneath by the faint glow of the comm’s screen. He squeezes the little device like a talisman, breathing quick and harsh in an increasingly desperate attempt to calm himself down, to tell himself it was just a dream.
But the dream hit awfully close to home, and he’s small and weak now, just like he felt, and does that make it true? He can’t logically prove it. In fact, logical thought is not happening at all right now. It’s dark and he’s afraid and he’s being assaulted by feelings he barely knows how to recognize anymore, much less cope with. It’s too much. The child wins out over the adult in Mark, and he doubles over, sobbing helplessly.