dreamcrystals | fifth entry ⊗ first dream: only in a dream

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fifth entry ⊗ first dream: only in a dream

Sender: Eustace
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Death makes for a sad ending to an otherwise happy dream (no violent acts but there is a lot of heavy grief)
Notes: A dream depicting glimpses of a lone wolf at various stages of his life and eventually forming his own family until...

It begins with a vast snowy white landscape, so empty and barren save for a few bundles of trees that appear here and there. Atop a barren cliff lays a lone silver gray wolf, its right eye slightly scarred at its brow as if it had been burned, but it's subtle, just barely noticeable under the tufts of fur. As the wolf slowly opens its eyes, the right eye is a little duller compared to the bright blue of the left. But it can see just as well and it tracks the sudden movement below—of other wolves crossing the snowy plains, a few of them playing around and running freely with each other.

It seems warmer down there, welcoming...yet the lone wolf remains at his perch, turning his head away as ice forms around him.

Time passes and what was once a barren snowscape has changed, pockets of grass and more trees poking through the snow. The wolf is now on the ground watching the others play around, but while he keeps his distance every so often one approaches to shove its head against his side, as if pushing the wolf to the group. The wolf grumbles, pinning his ears and baring his fangs...but he never attacks. Instead two smaller ones appear, one with blue tinted fur and another and orange red, and it's with their help that the lone wolf moves and is brought into the fold. There other wolves run out to greet him, each with their own distinct markings. The lone wolf still doesn't really participate, but he stays within the group, watching...and slowly his tail sways from one side to the other.

Like stop motion the trees grow, the grass spreads, and the number of wolves grow. The once lone wolf still doesn't really participate with their antics, but he appears calmer and more relaxed. He mostly stays on the edge, but he wanders through to be with the others, even letting the younger ones "tussle" with him. The cliff he once inhabited has turned into a mossy green and he hasn't returned to it in a long while. But when he looks out, there's a new wolf beyond the pack—black, female, with deep red eyes. He's wary at first, but she's welcomed into the fold like everyone else who has come through. When she passes by him, his eyes follow her, the scent of flowers lingering.

Once more time passes and the scenes pass quickly, all focused on the black wolf. Of her bothering the gray wolf and sticking to his side. Of her crying and he comforting her. Of him chasing and cornering her. Of quiet moments of them together. With each one, more snow disappears and the feeling of spring grows with the warm atmosphere, and his voice whispers in the breeze as each snapshot passes through.

Tifa, you are my partner now, and I want you to be there in my future. I told you before... You are the one I chose to be my partner for life. The one I chose to give my heart and soul to. No one else.

Tifa Lockhart.

The two wolves race through the snow, a black and silver blur leaving flowers in their wake.

Will you marry me?

Around their necks are matching necklaces: a metal dog tag and glowing charm, the moon on the black wolf and a star on the gray. They continue into the forest of trees, through a flower field bursting with colors—the sunlight dancing over them as petals swirl around them as the two wolves continue to frolic and play with each other, the remaining ice that had once surrounded the gray wolf completely melted away. Eventually they stop to rest against each other, and as he looks over at his mate, his blue eyes shine in a way they never have before. Soft, gentle, completely in love. Slowly they close, wrapped up in that beautiful bliss...

...And when they open, he finds himself staring at two small pairs of eyes, one red, one blue, their coats a darker gray. The pups' tails wag eagerly in the air as they bark.

Dad!
Yay he's awake!
Play with us!

At first he's confused—

Dad?

Who's dad?? But he hears the soft laugh and as he's shoved over onto the side by the pups, he looks over to see the black wolf sitting nearby with a smile, her red eyes shining in delight.

Understanding crashes into him like a tidal wave, and while something in the back of his mind tries to warn him, there's a burst of light, the ground overflowing with flowers as he laughs and plays with the pups. His pups.

His family.

Things go by in a blur. Spending lazy days together, meeting and venturing with the original pack. It seems as if it all could end peacefully like this. ...But then there's a low rumble overhead, dark shadows overtaking the once sunny area. As lightning cracks high overhead as if to shatter the once picturesque sky, the pups whine and hide beneath his legs. It's just a storm and yet there's a chill in the air that causes every single hair to stand on end. One that makes them run, run before the darkness engulfs them, run to their home where they would be safe. But—

Where is she?

—the thought blares through his mind as they dash into the cave and everything goes dark.

Rain falls. It beats on the gray wolf who sits with his head hung low, his once vibrant blue eyes dull and lifeless, tears now ice frozen on his fur. In fact there's no color at all—it's all white, gray, and black. In front of him is the black wolf lying on her side, eyes closed. A dark pool spreads beneath her lifeless body, flecks of red breaking through the monochrome. Her necklace lies in shattered pieces, the beautiful glowing moon crushed, dull. Beside him the pups whine and try to move him, but he doesn't budge. He can't. The weight of loss chains him down—

I failed.
I failed to protect her...

I killed her.

Slowly he falls forward, his head landing lightly just above hers. As the rain turns to the snow, ice crackles and forms around him. At first he still hears the pups, but when he slowly cranes his neck he can see them fade away, disappearing into the ether. Because they were never real to begin with.

They never can be real, a dark voice whispers as the snow continues to slowly bury him. None of this is.

No longer is he a wolf, but Eustace cradling Tifa's lifeless body as it slowly disappears, the snow and ice almost completely covering him as the voice becomes heavier and more oppressive as it continues.

When you wake up, you will forget it all like you did before. When she wakes up she will leave you for another.

A dream. This is all just a dream.

All it ever will be.

[It's there that the dream will cut off as Eustace jolts awake.

Note: there will be some delay before Eustace responds but he'll at least be of...somewhat calm mind if a bit more reticent and giving shorter, curt answers. ]

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[Although the room is cold, her hand as it comes to rest against his cheek, thumb tracing an adoring line over it, is as warm as can be, the touch tender and careful, deliberate. She can feel that ache beginning to rise again, that need to wrap herself around him and hold onto him, to anchor herself back in reality and not where she'd been laying in his arms, but maybe that isn't what either of them need right now.

They will need to talk about it, and she would like to once they get there, but for now, she'll smile and swallow it down, and will give him anything in this world that he asks for.]

Okay. Let's go there.

[Their special, secret place.]

We can grab the horses and head out for the day? Want me to pack us anything?

[He briefly thinks it over.]

Some food might be for the best.

[Even if he doesn't have an appetite right now, maybe the small excursion will have work up one as well as clear his mind a bit.]

[There's a pause as she looks him over, the worry in her gaze clear even in the darkness of the room.

Food... She doesn't have much of an appetite either, but if anyone is going to need to eat by the time they get out there, it's him.]

... Just take your time getting up, okay? I can get everything ready for us.

[There's a tentativeness in her movements as she leans in close to him, and presses a tender, brief kiss to his lips.]

Don't worry about it.

[A small, helpless look as he gives a small shake of his head.]

I'll help. ...I prefer to be moving.

[And even she says not to worry about it, it'll still be on his mind.]

[Usually, she would protest. She'd tell him to take it easy, to not push himself. This time, she doesn't. Instead, she mirrors his helpless look with one of her own—a crooked, almost nervous smile, but it disappears when she leans in to press a loving, reassuring kiss to his cheek.]

Okay.

[Tifa's voice carries the weight of her patience, but it's heavy with something else as well. Sadness, dread, and all of her concern being balled up into a lump that's growing in her throat, making it harder for her to keep her voice steady. Slowly, she slips the covers away and slides to the edge of the bed on his side, her eyes resting on him for a moment before they move to the window, peering through the crack in the curtains at the very early hints of sunrise.

And she takes him by the hand to help ease him out of bed with her, the sleepiness still settled in her own bones that it takes her a moment to stand firmly on her own feet, but when they're up, she rests her body against his in a hug.]

I'll start some coffee. Do you wanna pack some fruits? Maybe a few sandwiches for later?

[He watches her move, his thoughts still melancholic and heavy as he continues to think about the dream. There are so many points, but the ending in particular has hit him the most. So when she pulls him up, he wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes as he once again takes in her warmth and scent, faintly feeling her heartbeat—things that remind him that she's right here with him.]

...Mm. I'll wash up first.

[Maybe some cold water will help.

Though again, his words and actions seem to contradict each other as he ends up holding onto her instead.

Just a dream he keeps telling himself...but it's hard to shake when those words keep haunting him.]

[Once again, she doesn't protest. She prefers this, in fact... The thought of separating from him for even a moment to clean up or to pack some food pains her to inexplicable ends. Tifa just wants to remain right here holding him until she can chase away all the demons that lurk beneath his skin, clawing at him from the inside. Hold him until she can lure them out and fight them herself...

So, she's patient, and she allows her arms to wrap around him a little tighter, allowing him the time he needs before they inevitably have to part. Her lips rove over his chest, planting tender kisses and sleepy whispers against it, that need to reassure him too great for her to ignore...

But they can't stay there forever, and she can feel that cold dread starting to snake its way back into the space between them, the thoughts and the images creeping forward in her mind, and she wonders if it's the same for him as they stand there wrapped up in each other in silence, that tension slowly growing taut all over again.

Tifa gives him a little nudge with her hand on his back.]

Hey. Let's get ready...

[There's a drawn out breath as he feels her lips, and while normally this would stir a heat that would send them back to bed, he just finds it comforting, wanting more of that close affection.

But...she's right. They need to get moving. As comforting as it is to cling to each other like this, it also brings everything back. So while he doesn't want to separate from her, a little bit of separation might be exactly what they need right now—so that when they join again they can remember that there is exactly that: reunion. That they won't disappear within the next moment.

So he first drops a kiss on her forehead and then her lips before slowly pulling away.]

I'll be out soon.

[Any other day this would just be a normal remark. Now, however, it almost feels like a promise.]

I'll be here.

[And a promise right back at him, as her fingers chase after him when he pulls away, her body not quite ready to let him go just yet.

She'll wait until he disappears into the bathroom before she gets dressed and heads for the kitchen to start the coffee and set out what he will need to make some sandwiches for later. He had said he wanted to help, and while Tifa could easily finish it all within minutes, she doesn't want to take that away from him either. So, by the time he comes out, the house will smell like freshly brewed coffee, and she'll be finishing up cutting fresh fruits and vegetables to pack up into small baggies and containers for breakfast. It's not much, but she figures something healthy will help start their day off on a better foot than it's on now...

Moving around really has helped to recenter her focus elsewhere, though. She's at least glad for that, even if she is still a bit sleepy. Anything for him, though.]

I think that's just about everything we'll need. How do you feel?

[After splashing cold water in his face and taking a few minutes to himself, Eustace is able to at least clear his mind a bit as he hoped he would. The dream... All it really did was once again remind him of his fears, of the uncertainties and realities of their situation.

It's nothing new.

Each time it comes up it's painful, but surely it's about time that he learns to "brush it off" a little more easily. Hadn't he done so before? Lock unnecessary worries and unwanted feelings so he can continue to move forward? So what if what they have right now can only exist in a dream—it's better than not having it at all, isn't it? It's natural to feel greedy for more, but he knows his limits. Knows their reality.

So he doesn't need to be shaken up so much by this anymore.

...That's what he tells himself, anyway. But he's only human and his once locked heart is once more awakened and vulnerable to these kinds of pains and griefs that he had tried to shield himself from before.

After taking several steadying breaths, he shakes his head to shake away the voice and the heavy dread that still grips his shaken heart before he looks up at himself in the mirror—and flinches when he feels a sharp sting on his shoulder. Idly he rubs it, frowning a bit and wondering if he somehow pulled something, but then stiffens when he sees the faint traces of black ice frosting over it. It's then that he remembers it's the exact same place he had been directly hit back in the moonscape.

...Is it still there? Did he accumulate more nightmare energy because of his dream?

Quickly he grips the spot and focuses on all the love and happiness he's had with Tifa, and slowly that warmth melts the frost so that it's gone...but he can still feel a dull ache. Wiping his face, he purses his lips as he quickly tries to regain his thoughts. He can't let this progress any further than it has. Can't let this get to him.

After taking several more breaths he steps out of the bathroom and quickly dresses before stepping out and heading towards the kitchen. And seeing Tifa there cutting up and packing the fruits is what instantly calms him. Instantly banishes those troublesome thoughts that are only getting to him because he was in a vulnerable state.

He's stronger than that. He can deal with it. For her. For them.

Without bothering to hide his footsteps, he approaches behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, his lips immediately fall onto her neck as he hugs her close.]

...Better.

[Now that he's with her again.]

[She braces herself against the counter when his weight suddenly rests over her, caging her in place, and she huffs back at him with a little, relieved laugh because she, too, feels much better now that he's here. Tifa had spent all those minutes fretting and wondering about him, her stomach twisting itself into knots for what felt like an eternity when she heard the water running in the other room, but she would try to focus instead on slicing the vegetables or the sweeter scent of the coffee.

Popping the lid on the fruits, she leans her head back against his shoulder, humming her approval, but using this moment to hide the worry in her face.]

I'm glad.

[Hearing his voice say the word is enough of a relief for now, underscored by the thought that he doesn't have to leave her side again.]

I left the sandwiches for you.

All right.

[He remains with her a moment, nose lightly nuzzling her as he takes in the scents of fruit and coffee that have started to settle into her skin before he steps back to work on those sandwiches. Just because he wants to be near her doesn't mean it's necessarily healthy to be so clingy. Granted, right now is an exception.]

Want anything in particular?

[She doesn't mind the clinginess in the least, and if it weren't for their need to eat, regardless of what happened, she might have chosen to cling to him, too.]

Surprise me.

[She does, for a brief moment, rest her head on his arm before she wanders away to layer their containers into a bag. This routine is, admittedly, kind of nice. It's warm, familiar. Something that they both do so naturally these days that it helps to ease some of that tension that followed Eustace into the room.]

You always know what I like.

[Which is that she isn't picky at all, and anything that he whips up for her, whether it's a sandwich or a fancy meal, would be perfect to her.]

[There's just a small huff of a laugh as he gathers the bread and ingredients.]

No complaints later then.

[It's followed by a small smile before he gets to work on getting those sandwiches done, and once he's finished they'll be ready to go.]

[Was that a laugh she heard?]

Don't trick me with anything.

[With a weak smile, she pours the coffee into their large canteen and sets it aside.]

I'm going to go get cleaned up too real quick. I won't be long.

[While he finishes up with the sandwiches, it's Tifa's turn to head into the bathroom, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, she collapses over the sink, her hands bracing her on either side as she heaves a heavy breath as if this was her first gulp of air in minutes. She turns the tap on full blast to mask the sob that she feels coming, and a hand comes up to search her chest, to feel around at the skin... Lowering her shirt, she can see that she still only bears the one scar, but it's as if she can feel the other one burning through her as she remembers the feeling of those hot, scaled claws ripping across it. The teeth piercing her...

Tifa stills at the memory, and as she tries to shake it off, those images in the dream come in to replace them instead. Eustace hunched over her body; his hands stained in blood—her blood—as it pools in the snow. How she had felt that wound reopen, and the fear that bled out of it. Fear for herself, and worst of all, fear for him.

What was making him see these kinds of dreams? Everything had been fine. They've been fine. So perfect, even, that she wondered if there was something going on, but at some point, Tifa had accepted and embraced that things were truly looking up for them. So, what could it have been that triggered such a horrific ending to a wonderful dream? She hates it—she hates that she can't do anything about it. She can tell him things are going to be okay, but how does she make those dreams and those fears stop? Tifa had managed to swallow it all down, she could pretend she was fine, but could he?

Her hands ball tightly into fists, and she can feel them trembling as she fights the urge to slam one of them into something—the sink, the mirror, the wall...

Just keep it together... For him. For them.

She's almost too afraid to look at herself, but she catches a glimpse of her reflection. She can see how tired she looks, with the frown that's settled into her brow, her frail stance as she stands hunched over the sink, and the glisten of tears that line the bottoms of her reddened, heavy eyes. With a little sigh, she leans over and splashes the cold water over her face, again and again until she feels more aware. And after she finishes washing her face and brushing her teeth, and finishes recentering herself, she comes back out to him only a few minutes later with a smile.]

All ready to go?

[The moment Tifa leaves is the moment cold air once again fills the space where she once was, the warmth only barely lingering around him. She might not be showing it, but he can tell—she's trying and forcing her way through this as much as he is. For a moment he wonders if they should stay home instead... But feeling the cold only makes him certain they need to step out into fresh air. A place where they can feel more relaxed, with better memories.

Gripping the knife in his hand, he cuts through the tomatoes, lettuce, meats, cheese, and bread with focused precision, deftly preparing the various sandwiches before putting them in the container and returning everything back into their pace. Just a little longer. They just...have to hold it in for just a little longer. But not much longer, he knows. Eventually...

...

He rubs his shoulder, and it's then that he hears the mew and feels a weight against his leg. With Eria and Clover looking up at him, he just manages a small smile and pets them both.]

...We'll be fine. Just hang around the others until we get back.

[There's a grumble, but Eria understands and will usher Clover over to greet Tifa when she returns before Eustace has his turn.]

Yeah, we're good.

Oh. You're awake.

[Tifa narrowly dodges accidentally bumping Clover with her foot as she leans down to scoop her up into her arms, the kitten's warmth a welcome one in the cold room. Her eyes flit to Eustace over the cat's head, lingering on him briefly before she masks her sadness in Clover's fur with kisses behind her ears. She mewls in protest and Tifa shakes her head before she sets her down again.]

We'll be back a little later.

[Padding over to the cupboards, she pulls out a bowl and some food for both Clover and Eria to leave in their usual spots, trusting that the wolf will keep Clover from eating the entire meal in a single sitting as she tends to do.]

Right. [With a crooked, shy smile, she gathers up what she can, swinging a bag over her shoulder before slipping on her shoes at the door.] At least we can catch the sunrise on the way...

[On horseback. That... should be nice, right?]

[He looks at her, and there's a brief conflicted expression as if he wants to say something, but he holds it and just nods before walking to her with their brunch, lunch, whatever this will end up being in his hands. Yet once he reaches her, he again feels as if he needs to say something, but what? They're both going to end up being a mess again.]

...Let's go.

[In the end he just finds her hand to take it and lead them out, the usually warm air a brisk chill instead.]

[She can sense the unsaid words being exchanged in their glances when he approaches her—in how their gazes don't quite fully connect and when they do, the only thing that comes from it is a tender spark of regret or guilt or sadness between them. There are so many things that Tifa wants to say as well, but she bites down on the words and, like him, chooses to try and save them from sinking too far back into the cold before they can even leave the house.

Her mouth opens and closes when he takes her by the hand, and although it feels so much colder than Tifa remembers it always being, she still savours the feeling of it. That stable, firm grip that she always feels so safe holding onto. It's enough, and that warmth that finds its way back into her heart as she lets him lead her down steps to the ground is enough to expel some of that cold that she knows isn't the briskness of the early morning.

The stars are still scattered in the sky, the highest points of it still velvety blue, but across at the horizon, she can see the oranges and yellows bleeding upwards like watercolours across an indigo page, and it draws a breathy, quiet sigh out of her when she realizes that this sunrise feels a little less beautiful and a little more tainted than the others...

They walk in rigid, tense silence to the stables which—thankfully—aren't far from their home to fetch their horses. They are still asleep by the time they get there, and whinny with tired frustration at being woken up so early, stamping their feet as they rise, and Tifa offers hers quiet apologies and gentle pets along her mane where her blue and pink flowers have yet to open and bloom for the day. She feels a little bad, but once they've eaten, they seem to grow more amicable, and once again, Tifa notices that she keeps looking to the large black stallion as they strap their saddles on. Their conversations remain direct and short, to the point, and only about what's right in front of them even as they hop on their backs and begin their journey out to the forest.

It's only then that Tifa even mentions anything else, as she peers over to the vista again to see the sun peering out from behind.]

Looks like we made it just in time.

[She's trying...]

[Although the distance is not too great, it's a long, silent ride as they make their way to the campsite. Again Eustace wonders if he's making the right decision, but there is something about the stillness and early morning quiet of the forest that does ease a little more of his mind. Or rather, it lets him sort through his thoughts once more without being stifled within their otherwise comfortable home.

There were three things that dream hit that sent him reeling: 1) her death and being unable to protect her, possibly being the cause of it; 2) when they return to their own worlds, it's over; 3) and idea of starting an actual family in the future. It certainly wasn't pleasant to have the top three dreads and fears hit him all at once, and even more when Tifa not only saw it, but also experienced. Even though they've talked about at least two of these things before, he has to wonder what she's really thinking, really feeling. What...did she experience from her side of the dream? He realizes now he hasn't had a chance to really ask her, having been too caught up in his own emotions.

Then there's the matter of his nightmare energy... He thought he was fine, but is he not? He had already made plans and acquired as many precautionary measures as possible, but is it enough? ...And how should he tell her? Briefly the question of should he tell her comes to mind, but he knows the answer to that. She would be more angry at him if he didn't. So the real question is when. Should he tell her now? ...Later, like tomorrow when they're feeling less frayed? or would it not matter...

On the outside, Eustace remains quiet, clearly absorbed in his thoughts, but in truth he's in turmoil as he is once more dragging Tifa down a path of heartache. He can only hope...maybe here, after they talk through things, they can find their peace and calm once more.

At her words he looks up, his eyes lingering on the warm colors. To think it was just earlier this month they were here and everything seemed even brighter and warmer than now...]

...Mm. Let's go a little higher up.

[Her smile falls slightly at his quiet answer, but she tries to fix it quickly before he can look back at her and see how it fades. Being out here in the trees, walking alongside the creek where the water moves along without a care in the world, where the birds sing their morning songs, where the fireflies in the fog dim their lights to make way for the sun that's about to rise, it reminds her of those happier mornings they spent out here.

It's so brisk and smells so fresh, just like it had on those days when she woke up beside him in that tent with a smile, and it should be refreshing and invigorating to her senses, but each time she looks at the back of Eustace and sees how his shoulders tense beneath that burden he's trying to carry all on his own, it obscures those memories more and more.

Tifa nudges the sides of her horse to pick up the pace, and the mare breaks into a gentle gallop down the path until she's able to pass Eustace and move in front of him. It's easier to hide her face this way.]

Should we go back up to that same spot? On top of the waterfall?

[There's a joyful inflection to her voice that feels very out of place as soon as she hears it, but it's there to mask the frailness and unsteadiness of it when she feels her nerves flaring up the moment she realizes how close to their campsite they are. They are going to need to talk about everything, and she is going to have to ask him those questions that have been burning an aching hole in her heart since she woke up and suddenly, she isn't sure if she wants to get up there sooner or draw out the walk for as long as possible.]

[He hears her galloping up behind him and only watches her move ahead before he picks up the space to catch up to her.]

We'll have to leave the horses at the bottom since the path is too rough for them, but we can.

[She looses a sigh when he comes up beside her, and she glimpses across at him through the corners of her eyes, trying her best to read his expression in the shadows of the trees, but she can't. And when she realizes that he's doing the same thing she is, she trains her eyes forward onto the path again.]

Did you have somewhere else in mind...?

[Then again, keeping the horses away might be in everyone's best interests at this point, because her own shakes her head at something, and Tifa can only assume it's at them. Animals can sense things, and she wouldn't be surprised if she could feel the weight of words unsaid hanging in the air between them.]

[He continues to look up at the sky and then suddenly turns his horse to the side.]

Over here.

[And without another word he leads them to a small area where he'll dismount and loosen the tack so the horses can roam freely unimpeded before he'll lead Tifa up a small climb up am incline. It's near the place where they were last with the sound of the waterfall nearby, but it's at a different angle and instead of clear ground there are large, flat rocks they can sit on instead.]

[She follows along silently again as he leads her up the path, and somewhere along the way, she takes him by the hand into her tentative but firm grip. Her hands are cold from the ride, but behind that, there's a tenderness there too, a longing to still be there for him, and at his side no matter what kind of tension rolls between them.

It's like a thick cloud that fogs her vision—she can't quite see or think as clearly, and no matter how hard she tries to push it way, only more of it comes back. No matter how much she tries to grab hold to control it, her fingers slip right through like smoke.

When they arrive at the rocks, she still refuses to let him go, and they wander over together to sit, Tifa setting her bag down. The horizon is up ahead, and the indigo skies have turned to a soft yellow. She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and rocks gently on the rock to get comfortable. She isn't quite sure what to say, but she says something anyway to break and find a way through the silence.]

... Did you already know about this place too?

[This feels like the kind of place Eustace might have taken her to on a happier morning, when they wanted to come out here.]

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