Dreamcatcher      Dreamcatcher

 by MR

  

 Author's website: http://unhinged.kixxster.org

 Disclaimer: Not mine. Given the way I've been treating them recently,
that's probably a good thing.

 Author's Notes: 

 Story Notes: 

 This story is a sequel to: Fourth in the "Slipping Through the Cracks"
Series. Takes place immediately after "InnerVision" 

 

 Dreamcatcher
 By MR 

 In the end, despite my firm conviction that I would not involve anyone
else in the affair, I contacted Quinn. 

 It wasn't that hard to do really. One of us has to go into town
periodically for supplies, and as Ray's fond of saying, he's certainly not
the person to be doing it. And much as it shames me to admit it, I've
actually begun to look forward to these brief respites from the cabin. Not
because I love Ray any less, but because he's starting to frighten me. 

 I debated about us meeting in town, but in the end I told Quinn to come
to the cabin. I detest hiding things from Ray, though I'm positive he's
hiding something from me. His near panic when we first came here has, over
time, given way to an eerie calm I find more disturbing than his initial
hysterics. I sometimes get the feeling he's waiting for something. 

 I mentioned this to him once and he simply laughed. "And what do you
think I'm waiting for, Ben?" The fact that I couldn't tell him seemed to
settle the matter, at least in his mind. 

 "Frase?" 

 I look at him, framed in the bedroom doorway. If it weren't for the
wrap-around mirrored sunglasses, which replaced the bandages several
months ago, and the fact that he's thinner now than when we first moved
here, I could almost believe nothing's changed. His posture is the same
boneless slouch it was in Chicago. 

 He smiles slightly. "That supper I smell?" 

 I almost nod, then remember he can't see me. "Caribou stew again, I'm
afraid. We're almost out of everything else." 

 He nods, moving into the room, easily weaving a path between the table
and chairs and other furniture, until he's standing on the other side of
the counter. "Time to go for more supplies." It's not a question, just a
statement of fact. 

 "Probably tomorrow or the next day." I add some spices to the stew.
"Though if worse comes to worse, I suppose we could always send Dief out
to catch rabbits." 

 That makes him laugh softly. "Think you could talk'im into not
half-eating them before he brings them home?" 

 It's these moments of normalcy that scare me the most. As if what
happened in Chicago and our nightmare flight to here, the only place Ray
feels truly safe, were nothing more but a bad dream. 

 "Ben." I glance up to find him standing next to me, head titled to one
side, and oh God, I wish I could see his eyes again; those beautiful clear
blue eyes, instead of the flat starkness of my own reflection distorted
back at me. 

 And before I know it he's got his arms around me, pulling me close,
holding me, and as I struggle against threatening tears, one hand begins
to stroke my hair. "Shh. It'll be okay, Ben. I promise it'll be okay." 

 The idea strikes me then that both of us have gone mad. The isolation of
the wilderness has finally exacted its toll. It seems such a perfectly
reasonable idea. 

 Unresisting, I allow him to lead me into the bedroom, where he strips me,
then himself, and guides us both onto the bed, intent on easing my mind in
what is probably the only way he can. Kisses and touching, and in the heat
of the moment, the heady rush of this connection between us that even the
horror hasn't managed to break, I can almost believe nothing's changed. So
sweet, my Ray is, so gentle, and the end comes far too fast for both of
us. 

 Lying sated in the aftermath, my head pillowed on his chest, more than
half asleep, I realize he's whispering under his breath. 

 "It'll be okay, Ben, I promise. I'll take care of you, 'kay? I won't
let'em have you. I'll keep you safe. You've just gotta trust me a little
longer. I know what to do now, really, and I'll know when they get close,
and I won't let them hurt you. Can you do that, Ben? Can you trust me that
much?" 

 I look up at him, wishing I could strip those sunglasses off and look
into his eyes. But I know better than to try. "Do you mean that?" 

 His arms tighten around me. "I mean it, Ben. I'll keep you safe.
Just...can you be patient a little longer? There's so much I wanna tell
you, but I can't right now. I've gotta concentrate." 

 I open my mouth to ask him what he's concentrating on, then close it,
question unasked. "Ray, the stew..." 

 "S'okay. I turned it off. You need to sleep, Ben. I know you haven't been
sleeping like you should." His hands brush my hair out of my eyes. "Go to
sleep, Ben. I'll stand guard." 

 I'm so tired. So tired, and so very afraid that this will never end; that
we're doomed to spend the remainder of our lives isolated in the middle of
nowhere. "You'll be my dream catcher?" 

 He laughs softly. "Yeah, Ben. Your own personal dream catcher." 

 I nod, snuggling closer, feeling his hands draw the quilt over us, and I
fall asleep to the sound of his words, soft and quiet as a summer shower,
telling me how much he loves me and how he'll never, ever let me down. 

 FIN 

End Dreamcatcher by MR: psykaos42@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.