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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[He knows what he said might hit hard, but it's something that needs to be pointed out. Of course, he's not guiltless. He takes things on his own all the time, and he's also being unfair to Tifa as well. Even if his thought process is well intended (not wanting her to worry), it's still keeping her out. And now...it's about time to open up before they really do make a mistake.]

As to why it keeps appearing... I'm not sure I have an answer, except that the nightmares are pulling out my deepest fears and making me face them as if to remind me.

[A small snort of derision.]

I promise you, the things you see... I don't think about them often. But it is true that they exist. Especially... [His face twists again as he hates having to say it aloud let alone think about it.] ...Of you dying.

[Her breath catches subtly in her throat, but he'll no doubt have heard it, even as she tries to swallow down that bubble of dread that leaps up from the center of her chest. The air around her snaps cold, as if his words had sucked any warmth right out of it, and she can feel the goosebumps rising all over her skin, and that pool of heat forming where she'd felt the blood in the dream...

Where it had felt so, so real...

Tifa doesn't mean to put any distance between them, but she leans back again to look into his eyes, to try and stare past that hardened expression and see what he's really thinking and feeling, but it's so hard to when her own eyes are starting to glaze over with fear.

Her fingers twitch against his cheek, and her hand slides down to rest around the back of his neck instead.]

...Is this...

[She's almost too afraid to say the words and bring that memory forward again after she—they had worked so hard to push it away.]

... about what happened in that dreamscape?

[He should know which one she's referring to. It's haunted them both for far too long, it seems.]

...Yes.

[A small exhale as his head sags slightly, the guilt and pain clear not only in his eyes and expression, but his entire body. How his body tenses, retracting into himself.]

...I'll never be able to forget it. I can't, it's impossible. Even if I learn to live with it so that I can at least not have such visceral reactions, it's still too soon. Even then...

[There may always be that small flinch, that small ripple of tension even in the years to come.]

...I've taken many lives, so my hands were never clean. But you... [He cuts himself short as he closes his eyes, unable to bear it.

It's only reasonable for him to be like this. Although he may have hardened himself to kill enemies, to take the life of the one he treasured and wanted to protect the most...there's no way he'll be able to shake that off.]

To lose anyone...is already something I fear. [His voice wavers a little although, his voice starting to shake.] But to do it by my own hands...

[It doesn't matter if he was unable to control it. No—it's worse. Far worse. It means he has a vulnerability, a weakness. That he can't truly protect those he loves.]

[But you weren't in control, is what she wants to tell him. That it wasn't his fault... but she knows that those words are empty to him. Tifa knows that him being unable to control it is why it's so terrifying in the first place. She trusts, without a shred of doubt, that he would never do anything to hurt her, but this world and its magic or the forces that compel them to do things that they'd never do in their right minds always seem to have other plans.

Still, she wishes there was something—anything that she could say to help make this pain of his go away, and to stop it from bleeding into her so that she can't stand firm for him to lean on. Tifa flinches when he cuts himself off, that thought lingering in the air for far too long before he speaks again, but at some point, she hasn't realized that she's stopped breathing as she combs her fingertips gently through his hair, hanging onto his every word.]

... I wish there was a way I could make this stop...

[To forget it all, but even when they go home to their own worlds, that pain will never leave their hearts. It will be something that they will have to live carrying, whether they realize it or not, forever. Tifa came back after what happened—they woke up and she ran to him, but she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't still bearing the burden of that fear still... She just forced it down so that she could be there for him.

Now that he's opening up to her about it, she still isn't sure what to do, and although it's tearing her from the inside out, she isn't going to let this moment go to waste.]

And the moonscape...?

[He knows. He knows very well that she wants to do something for him—anything. And that's why he's kept it to himself. Now it might be different, but back then it was not her burden to bear. And even then...he has no answer. What can be done for what's a significant trauma? Just having her by his side has already been more than enough.

But at her question, he stiffens, eyes trembling as the illusion flashes back with a lot more clarity than he would have liked. Immediately after he clenches his fist in a vain attempt to suppress the anguish and fear that comes with it, and again he really doesn't want to talk about it. Doesn't want to subject her to that horror again.

...However he had told himself that he needed to be more honest with her as it's more of a question of "when" than "if" at this point on her somehow seeing it. So he looks at her for a moment before he can only look down, trying to keep himself steady.

Tries to tell him it was just an illusion, it wasn't real...

...Would be a lot more convincing if it hadn't already happened once before.]

...You were dead.

[His voice is quiet, strained. Please don't ask him for the details—]

[She doesn't ask because there aren't any more details than what he's said. Tifa can put two and two together... she had been there, on that battlefield among the fires and the lightning that struck down around them, and she had seen him in the dream, cradling her body in his arms. Even if she'd wanted to press further, she's not sure she even wants to hear him explain something she can picture vividly in her head.

But now she can see it all again, and she leans forward to wrap her arm around him and to bury her face in his chest, to hide the mirrored pain in her eyes before she screws them shut, hidden against the front of his shirt.]

I had a feeling... [Her voice is muffled, frail, and arms tighten around him.] I'm right here... I always am.

[She doesn't think it will help much to hear it, if at all, but she feels the need to say it out loud and remind him anyway.]

They're just dreams. None of it is real. [There's a pause as Tifa gives a small shake of her head.] I'm sorry... I know this isn't helpful...

[The moment she falls into him, he has to grit his teeth to stop the overwhelming emotion from cracking him any further, and instead transfers that strength in his arms as he holds her close, face burying into her hair. It's time like these that he really pays attention to her scent, her warmth, her breath. All the things that remind him she's here with him—alive.]

I'm sorry...I know this isn't easy for you either.

[She's a victim—his victim. He still thinks it a miracle she didn't leave him after that, that she doesn't become frightened on seeing him. Of course he realizes his thoughts are illogical a d fortunately doesn't think that. But sometimes, when he's forced to remember those events, that dark thought pokes its thorny head to further dig into the wound.]

The greatest fear I have...isn't you suddenly leaving me to return to your world... It's you dying and either because I couldn't protect you or—[He bites his lips and clutches her tighter.] ...Because of me.

[By his own hand. Because he couldn't stop himself when under some other control not his own.]

...I don't want you to ever suffer or be in pain, and it's already happened once—

[He cuts himself short because he feels he's already said too much. This isn't what he wants her to hear, to know.]

[His words twist and twist, squeezing at her heart until it breaks. To think that she is the center of his greatest fear, the one thing that has been eating him alive from the inside out since all those months ago when they played Romeo and Juliet—she doesn't know what to think of it. It hurts her, it makes her soul shatter into thousands of helpless little pieces. These are things she's known about since, had always had that nagging fear in the furthest reaches of her mind that she'd ignore to make room for the happier memories, but hearing him say them out loud, hearing him give them his voice...

It makes her wish all the more that she could reach into his soul and pull them free, even if it meant taking those burdens on in his stead.]

It's not going to happen again.

[... She presses her lips together a moment, and with a deep breath, she continues.]

I know it's a lot to promise, especially when there's so much that happens that's out of our control, but you can't ever hurt me...

...

Not like that anyway, because I can't stand seeing you like this. I don't like what this is doing to you.

[Even if it can't be helped. These are all very real fears of his, but nothing in this world can hurt her more than seeing him so hurt and so afraid the way he is now.]

[There's a staggered breath as he shakes his head.]

I told you, it doesn't happen so often... I'll always have that fear—it's stemmed from the ones I've had since I lost my family so it will never go away. But these kinds of nightmares...they're rare, I promise.

[He's trying to reassure her, but he knows it's a hard sell. The words seem hollow even to him. But he's not lying—he doubts he will ever be rid of this fear, but managing it is a different story. He's been able to keep it locked down, the lock only forced open during these times.]

...If anything... You being here by my side is already helping.

[It is a hard sell. She believes him and she has no reason to believe it isn't true because most times, he seems happy enough. They are happy, things are good... until this happens, and it feels like the wind's been knocked out of them both. Her being at his side is good enough, he says, but she feels like she needs to—she wants to do more.]

Rare, but when they do happen...

[She blinks her eyes open and lifts her head only far enough to look at him.]

There's that nightmare energy... remember on the moon...?

Yes...

[A small sigh.]

But I only ever notice it when there's such a strong, visceral reaction, which is not unusual given the nature of what nightmare energy is. Even if some is generated, it's gone within the next day.

Because I have you.

[He looks at her.]

You know it best, the worst was when I was on the moon and that was because it's already filled with it. A dream like this...it won't do anything. As long as it's balanced out then that's all it will be—a small side effect that won't amount to anything.

And even if not...

[His voice trails a little before he continues.]

I've already taken steps to prepare against the worst case scenario.

["Because I have you."

...

Those words make her heart, heavy as it is, flutter. It doesn't chase away her fears, but it does help to remind her of what they have with each other. How lucky she is—how lucky they are that in spite of all the things this world throws at them, they've somehow managed to make it this far. And as she tips her head to one side, there's the gentle clink of her charms beneath her shirt as they tumble across her chest to serve as yet another reminder of that.]

Steps...?

[There's a note of curiosity in her voice—one that says it all. This is the first time she's heard about any steps besides what she saw on the moon, and her hand clutches at his shirt tighter, that spark of hope that he ignites surging through every muscle in her body until she's searching for purchase, clinging onto it as tight as she can...]

You remember how I asked for assistance in creating power limiters, mostly for those like Phantom? There is also research in creating uses for them against nightmare energy. It's still in development, but I plan on keeping one on hand once it's finished.

I've also acquired some of the Glowing Dawn flowers that help reduce the nightmare effects. We also received the items from when we went to the moon. And...

[A small pause. Now this is one secret he's kept, but if he's saying this much he should go ahead and say everything.]

...Ever since that dreamscape [She knows which one.] I've kept note of everytime I do experience nightmares.

[She blinks up at him, but there's a nervous flutter to her lashes when her heart stutters and leaps into her throat, and that nervous energy begins to build up again. This isn't the first time she's heard about these power limiters—she had seen that message of his go out through the journals, but she assumed it had everything to do with Phantom and what happened to him, and nothing to do with Eustace...

But it doesn't take much for her to piece it all together now, and she feels her heart wrench in her chest, and she forgets to swallow the air she's breathed.]

... Every time?

[How often is every time, she wonders?]

Why didn't you tell me?

[Although she can already guess his answer, her voice breaks as she asks, slowly, but it's a gentle question. Patient, without an ounce of malice or disappointment. Simply worry.]

The most was right after that dreamscape. After that it was only after certain incidents, like the Bleeding Heart, the moon...and eventually last night.

[This dream.]

But I didn't want to worry you...because I know it would stay on your mind and you would run off and do something on your own.

[She huffs with a sad little laugh, and her hand presses to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to hers, so that she can lightly nuzzle his nose.]

You know me too well...

[Because if she'd heard before now, she absolutely would have gone out and tried to find a way to fix it all on her own. Whether she would have found anything is a different story, but... it reminds her of that time she'd let her own emotions get the better of her, and she bolted off to look into Don Corneo after losing Cloud.

This feeling isn't so different...]

Now that I know... what can I do to help...?

[Just a small, breathless laugh as he lowers his face to her.]

Because I would do the same.

[If the roles were reversed he absolutely would go off and do something on his own. He's even doing it right now, even if it's about himself.]

But now... Now I just need you...

[He almost finishes with a real answer—that he needs her to just stay with him. To love him, to share their usual joys. But he changes it as he pulls back to stare down at her, his gaze piercing.]

...I need you to tell me what you've been hiding.

Me...?

[The word stutters on her tongue when she feels his eyes pierce right through her outer walls and to burn right into her soul. Needless to say, she's stricken into a brief silence as her lips part again to say something, but she shuts them and skirts her gaze elsewhere.

She should have known this was coming. Much as she would have liked to pretend for a little longer that nothing was ever wrong, to pretend that she hadn't been afraid of what she's seen, she always knew there would come a time when he would turn the questioning around on her. That he would figure out that there was something that she was keeping from him, too. She never wanted to tell him because it would only feed into those fears that dwell deep beneath that strong exterior of his, but he'd shared it all with her, and Tifa... she owes him more than what she's been giving him.

So, with a look as if to remind Eustace that this is still about him, she sighs, but keeps her gaze fixed on the sunrise.]

In that dream, I... [Having heard his side, this makes it so much harder, and her voice and her hands begin to tremble as she withdraws them from him.] ... I saw things, too.

[He sees that look, but really at this point isn't this more about them than just himself? Especially with her being affected by the root of it all.]

...What did you see?

[There's a stretch of silence, filled only by the sound of her breathing growing more stilted as the seconds press on, and all she hears is the blood roaring in her ears as she remembers how the dream ended, and the reason why she started awake so afraid and short of breath.]

When I saw you there... with me in your arms, and I was...

[The word dies on Tifa's tongue when she can't bring herself to say it out loud. Unconsciously, her hand goes up to her chest, and then her fingers circle around her throat.]

I felt the blood... those cuts opening up again like I still had them...

[His eyes widen and tremble at hearing her words. She... She saw what happened after...? A wind like roar rushes through his mind, drowning out everything as he feels his chest tighten to the point he can barely maintain a steady breath. And then she... Felt it all again...]

Tifa...why...

[Why didn't she tell him? Of course he knows the answer to that but the words drip out in a strained voice.

And once again, he can only think it's his fault that she was put into such a position. If she wasn't with him—no, that's stupid thinking, but the thorny thought drags itself over the already burning wounds.]

[Her fingers fidget amongst themselves in her lap, that nervous energy that's built up inside her bursting forth in a static fit through the air that forms into a pocket of uncomfortable, stifling heat—not the kind that's gentle and embracing, but the kind that chokes the air out of someone's lungs, and from where she keeps her hands folded on her lap, small embers are carried away in the hot wind.

Tifa knows where the rest of that question would have gone, and she's almost certain that he already knows what she's about to say, but she says it anyway.]

... Same reason you didn't tell me about all this.

[Not because she wanted to keep it a secret, but...

Her hands ball into fists now, and they shake against her legs, all of that tension mounting until it bleeds into every one of her muscles, and she can feel tears form in the corners of her eyes as her own guilt finally surfaces.]

I didn't want you to worry or feel like any of it was your fault. I didn't want to make it worse.

Still...!

[His voice cracks as he can only begin to imagine what kind of pain and pressure she had gone through—and how ignorant he had been, so focused on his own issues he failed to consider Tifa.

Idiot.

He was such an idiot.]

I should have asked you sooner, I...

Stop.

[Whether he was intending to finish the thought or not, she very gently inserts her plea.

This is exactly why she didn't want to tell him. He doesn't need this; he doesn't need to fret about her when she can simply leave it be. He had his own things to worry about—things that had very real consequences that could affect him in ways far worse than this. And now that he does know, her worst fear is that whether or not she is okay is going to eat him alive from the inside out...]

You had bigger things to worry about than me. I'll be fine...

No.

[Although he's still distraught, the way he answers and looks at her is fierce and stern. Although it's not solely directed at her as he sighs and runs a hand over his face.]

...No, we're both doing the same thing for the same reasons. We're trying to keep everything to ourselves for the sake of the other when we shouldn't be.

[It made sense before, when they were still processing their feelings for one another. And it's an old habit that's going to take a while for either of them to really quit. But Eustace realizes that what they're doing is only working against them. It's a lesson he had realized back then with Flamek and Diaspora, and it's a lesson he's realizing again now that he's chosen to spend the rest of his life with Tifa.

Taking her hand, he stares into her eyes earnestly.]

We're about to be married... Even though we want to shield each other we can't. Just as you want to share and solve my problems, I want to do the same for you.

I won't deny it... Hearing what you've went through does make me feel more responsible about it. But I would have felt worse if I found out later than this. ...Just as you would if I had continue to keep everything to myself.

[His expression then hardens as his hands grip hers in a tighter hold, his voice rising just a hair.]

So don't tell me you'll be fine when I know you're not.

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