ArchivedLogs:What Dreams May Come

What Dreams May Come
Dramatis Personae Aloke, Mallory	2014-06-29 A much needed chat happens, after some cooling off. (Part of Future Past TP.)
Location <XS> Aloke and Mallory's Room - FL3, then a mountainside
This is a couple's suite at Xavier's. A little more expansive than the basic teacher's rooms, this suite includes a living room, a larger bedroom, and a decent-sized private bathroom, as well as a small study. The living room has been made into a fairly cozy entertaining space. Just inside the door is a small side table set by itself in a relatively prominent position in the room, where one could easily visit either on the way in, or out. A skilled, hand-painted, 8x10 image of Lakshmi sits on the table, leaning against the wall. Just in front of the painting is a shallow, silver bowl of water with white and yellow flower petals floating on the surface. The bowl is flanked a pair of white candles. The study is in an alcove at the other corner of the living room, opposite the kitchenette. It looks like it would be big enough to host a nice desk and chair, but is instead lined with more neatly arranged bookshelves, and a collection of nice quality easels and art supplies. The only seating in the study is a big, gray rubber yoga ball. Another door leads off to the sizable bedroom, neatly kept and decorated in dark neutral colors occasionally interrupted with a contrasting flash of brilliant color. Sturdy, simple furniture in a medium walnut tone make up the bedroom set, a pair of matching dressers and a king size bed flanked by two nightstands. Ashy gray satin sheets are topped with an extra fluffy, near-black comforter; a reversible duvet is folded at the foot of the bed, the visible side a cool silver-blue, the hidden side a myriad of brilliant colors in a paisley design. A variety of throw pillows in cheery colors break up the darkness of the bed set, some occasionally being tossed onto the cream colored fainting couch beneath the window. Soft gray curtains, which look thick enough to be black-out curtains, frame the window, though more often than not they are pulled back to let sunlight through the thin white sheers beneath. The barest early morning light is just beginning to peek through the bedroom curtains, casting a bold, bright line across the bed. As with the last several days, this lazy Sunday promises to be a warm one, though it is currently rather pleasant outside. Inside the room, however, the temperature around the bed has been rising steadily as the morning brightens. On Mallory’s side of the bed, the covers have been long since kicked off into a knotted pile of fabric at the foot of the bed, though one hoof is still tangled in the mass of sheets. Mallory herself is sprawled, angrily twitching tail and one arm flopped off the side of the bed, her other hand clutching at her chest with claw-like motions. As she has lately on the rare occasion when she does sleep, Mallory is talking - a constant, mumbled mantra of ‘No’ escaping her lips. Perhaps more worrying are the tendrils of dark smoke issuing from her mouth with each word; her brow wrinkles harshly as she struggles against the figments of her nightmares. Mallory sits bolt upright in bed rather suddenly, scrambling against the sheet tangled around her hoof in confusion. Trembling fingers close around the glass of water on her nightstand, bringing it to her lips in a desperate attempt to quench the fire in her chest. Her next breath comes with a billowing cloud of steam, though she is painfully hot to the touch as she pulls her bare knees up to her chest, wrapping an arm around her legs to hide the shaking. Looking towards Aloke with a guilty expression, hoping against hope that she has not woken him with her antics. None the less, she utters a hoarse, “{Sorry},” the Hindi word rolling off her tongue with practiced ease between difficult breaths. Fluttering wisps of smoke and steam curl from her lips as she speaks, her eyes glistening with tears. Aloke… is not there. When Mallory looks for him, his side of the bed is empty, for the moment at least. In another second, he appears in a soft flash of yellow light, standing next to the bed on his side. He looks semi-panicked himself. Though still in his PJ's, his barefeet are dirty and he looks freshly rumpled, just woken up. In the weeks since their shared nightmare, Aloke has woken several times to find himself standing on The Corner. The place where it happened. Happens. Will happen. It's the main reason he's taken to sleeping in pajamas, in spite of the summer heat and the added warmth of his life-partner. "It happened again-" he begins, but then he sees Mallory's face. Hopping onto the bed, Aloke kneels next to Mallory, reaching out to comfort her but finding he can't even touch her skin. He flexes his hands and asks, "Are you… do we need to go?" The apologetic expression on Mallory’s features quickly advances to one of panic when she realizes that Aloke is not there beside her. She gropes shakily towards the empty spot, mouthing ‘No’ frantically, more wisps of black smoke beginning to wind from her lips, the tears that would dampen her cheeks vanishing into steam. When he reappears, she looks at him with relief, eyes wide as she blinks through evaporating tears, a nervous smile on her lips. Reaching out towards him as he climbs onto the bed, Mallory stops, pulling her hand back when he hesitates. At his question, Mallory nods slowly, starting to open her mouth to respond, but all that emerges is a squeak and more smoke. Embarrassed, she snaps her mouth shut again, squinting her eyes closed and nodding in agreement, trying to take a deep breath in a last ditch effort to cool down. Dressed only in her own minimalist pajamas - a pair of black gym shorts and a thin tank top - Mallory reaches for the emergency bag she has started to keep beside the bed - stuffed with spare clothes and essentials for the both of them - her hands still shaking as she pulls it up beside her. Unable to speak, she signs her apology, the familiar circling of a closed fist over her heart. "No apologies," Aloke whispers, hurting to see his love in so much pain. He swallows hard and nods before forcing himself to reach out and take her hand, shifting to travel immediately to minimize his own burns. In an eternal moment, given the season, they find themselves in a dark corner of the Whakarewarewa Forest in New Zealand, high up on a mountain, the spot they scouted out for summer emergencies. There's plenty of snow, up on the mountain, but Aloke puts them down on an exposed rock outcropping which should be able to shoulder Mallory's heat. He clenches his jaw as the biting cold stabs into him while at the same time his hand is burning from contact with Mallory's skin. He takes a step back and nods at her. "Don't worry, you can cut loose here.” Initially, Mallory flinches away from Aloke, afraid to burn him - but she lets him take her hand, her other hand looped through the shoulder strap of the bag. Eyes closed, she braces for the transport, hand shaking in Aloke’s grasp - inadvertently holding her breath as they disintegrate into light. When they land, Mallory pulls her hand away from Aloke’s as quickly as she is able, stumbling a few steps away before she collapses to her knees on the exposed stone. Slamming her fist into the freezing rock, she growls in frustration, vapor billowing from her lips with the exclamation. As snow lands on her exposed skin, little puffs of steam swirl into the air, gradually becoming less pronounced in the darkness. Resting her head against the stone, Mallory holds her head, long fingers laced through her horns - it appears as though she is not going to combust at this time. She sits there, tail curled around her legs, beginning to shiver in the intense chill of the mountainside. “Thank you,” she finally says, her voice hoarse and shaking, “M’sorry.” "I meant it before. No apologies," Aloke says softly, with a gentle smile. He flexes his singed hand subtly, out of Mallory's view, and then kneels down beside her, taking advantage of her much more comfortable heat level in the cold. "Otherwise I have to apologize for sleep-porting again. And neither of us are at fault. But um…" With a shiver, Aloke drags the emergency bag close and digs out his compressed, downy parka, shaking it loose before slipping it on. The brown puffy jacket slowly begins to take shape on his body. He sits down and says, "I think… it's probably time we talk about the dream. I didn't want to. I still don't. But I think we have to. We can't just ignore it anymore." His good hand reaches out to take hers, if she'll have it. Mallory sits up after a long minute, taking a deep breath, her eyes closed lightly as she focuses on staying calm. She does reach for the emergency bag, tugging a folded up gray fleece blanket from a pocket in the bag. Drawing it around herself, Mallory sniffles, looking over at Aloke with damp eyes, glancing towards his burnt hand with a wince. Another reach into the bag, and a small first aid kit - specifically for treating burns - is produced with a sheepish bob of her head. She refrains from apologizing, but sets the kit in her lap, bowing her head at the need to talk about the dream. “I… I know,” Mallory says quietly, squeezing Aloke’s good hand. “I don’t particularly want to, either, but… I keep reliving parts of it, over and over and over again. Every time I sleep,” she continues, shaking her head as her voice breaks. Shuffling over to sit closer to him, hugging the blanket closer - the shivering might be from the cold, or from the anxiety. “Where do we even start?” she asks quietly. Aloke's hand trembles slightly in Mallory's for a moment until he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He glances at the first aid kit and shakes his head, holding up the singed hand. "It's ok," he says softly. "It wasn't bad this time." And it doesn't really look that bad. He's probably gotten worse from a fumbled tea kettle. "But honestly? I think we should start with: It Hasn't Happened." He takes a deep breath and looks down at the stone between his feet before continuing. "I mean, it sure as hell /feels/ like it happened. I can remember how it felt… what happened to me. I can't even imagine what…" He glances sideways at her, not really able to hold her gaze, and just scoots a little closer to her, shoulder to shoulder now. "But that's the thing. None of it actually /happened/. Not yet, anyway." Closing both hands around Aloke’s uninjured, trembling hand, Mallory tries to offer some comfort and warmth. Or possibly she is trying to mask the shaking of her own hands. Taking a deep breath, Mallory lets it out slowly, shaking her head, “It hasn’t happened. It feels like it happened. Part of me knows it was a terrible dream, that they were all just /dreams/. But…” Her voice trails off as she rests her head against his shoulder, appreciating the reassuring closeness. Beneath the blanket, one hand presses against her abdomen, the other still clutched around Aloke’s hand. Quietly sniffling and tugging the blanket around her closer, Mallory looks over towards Aloke, she can’t bring herself to meet his gaze, either. “It was horrible. Is horrible. Will be horrible?” Mallory stutters, shuddering and burying her face against the fluff of his parka. “It was so simple. We… we were getting cupcakes,” she chuckles anxiously, shaking her head. “Then… then it all went wrong. I was shot. There was pain,” she says, pressing her hand to her chest, over her heart, “And…more gunshots… and... and a flash of light - I… I couldn’t see anything after that. It was a blur, and pain.” She sniffles, squeezing Aloke’s hand again, bringing it up to her still rather warm lips. “I couldn’t… find you. I was reaching for you. But… but you weren’t there,” her voice cracks, and she curls closer to him, trembling more as she takes a shaky breath. “Just... Thomas was there, beside me. I could hear him still,” she closes her eyes and falling silent, her brow furrowing. Aloke nods as he listens, confirming his part of the shared dream. "It was the same for me. And… I'm actually not entirely sure what happened to me either. Except that I /was/ there. I was with you and Thomas. I just… I couldn't touch you. I dunno. My powers have never worked that way before. It was like I was a ghost or something." Aloke clears his throat and looks over at Mallory. "I was trying so hard to talk to you both. But nobody could hear me." He shakes his head and dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "But no, none of that even /compares/ to what you went through. I can't even imagine… The only thing I keep falling back on is that it didn't happen. I know some people are saying these dreams are prophetic, but even if they are, we can prevent them now, right?" Aloke sounds a lot more hopeful than sure of himself. Listening closely and nods, her expression grim as she looks down at Aloke’s hands as she still cannot bring herself to look up at his face. Tears well up in her eyes, and she shakes her head, brow furrowing, “But… why? Was… that flash of light. That was you?” Mallory squints, forcing herself to try to remember the dream, shaking her head, “A… ghost? No… no. No. Please no. Not that, not you, too.” She sniffles again, closing her eyes and burrowing her face into his shoulder again, wrapping her arms, and the blanket around him. "What happened?" she asks, unwilling to allow him to dismiss it so easily, "Everything was chaos. I was shot, but almost everything else is just a swirl." Pulling him closer to her as though she had to be sure he was really there beside her, she gently kisses his temple, her lips still quite warm. “Could you… hear? Anything that was going on? I couldn’t speak… at all. I could only ‘talk’ to Thomas,” she taps her temple demonstratively, “But he was speaking, too. I know he was. He…” She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and just hugs Aloke tighter, unable to finish her sentence. “It didn’t happen,” Mallory parrots quietly, her voice becoming desperately resolute, “God. It can’t happen. It can’t. We can keep this from happening, right? We have to.” "I don't know, I really don't," Aloke says quietly, scooting in close to Mallory's embrace. It is mighty chilly on the dark, New Zealand mountain top, after all. "I don't remember all of it clearly after I wake up. There was a lot going on all at once. But maybe…" he looks down at their hands as well and shakes his head. "No, I couldn't hear anything either. And I'm sure Thomas couldn't hear me. I don't even know what that means. But that's the thing." He takes a deep breath and looks up at Mallory. "Didn't. Happen. I know it sounds trite, considering what we saw. But it /has/ to matter. It didn't happen. And if it's a prediction, we can stop it." Mallory leans heavily against Aloke, looking at him curiously, the subtle orange fire flickering in her otherwise dark eyes. "Maybe what?" she asks, her voice weary with lack of sleep. Her hug tightens around him a bit more, still refusing to let go. "Oh," she says when he confirms that he couldn't hear, "I... Aloke. At the end of the dream, just before I woke up." She shakes her head, having to pause for a moment, a quiet sniffle hinting at held back tears. "I was fading. But... Thomas was... he… I started to transform. To burn," she stutters at last, in a mass tumble of words. "It's why I keep waking up halfway to that point," she mumbles, squeezing his hand to hide her shaking. She let's go finally, shifting the blanket up over her shoulders, arms wrapped around her stomach. "Didn't happen. It hasn't happened," Mallory says slowly, resolutely, "It won't happen. The future isn’t written in stone. I mean… we can just avoid that bakery, right?" She asks the question with a lopsided smile towards Aloke, but the crack in her voice betrays her uncertainty at the statement. Aloke clenches his jaw and nods when Mallory describes Thomas changing, and the painful details. Then he gets a weak smile of his own. "Well, yeah, I don't see why not. I mean, there are a bunches of bridges to cross before that scene can play out. Like…" Getting pregnant, is what he doesn't say out loud. He swallows and says, "Like going out to dinner that night, or going to cupcakes afterwards. There's just… a whole long list of things that have to happen first, and when they /start/ to happen, then we start being extra careful." “Yeah,” Mallory says with a quavering note, arms tightening around her stomach, “Like that.” She doesn't voice it, but she knows well enough just which obvious elephant in the room Aloke was about to reference. “I suppose that really is all we can do. Wait, and prepare, and be ready. Just in case all the things that would lead up to this start to happen,” Mallory says, staring out into the darkness off the side of the mountain, her expression distant. “We’ll make it through this, when,” she pauses, shaking her head, and corrects herself, “/If/ this happens. We’ll be ready.” Uncurling her arms, she pulls Aloke to her beneath the fleece blanket, if he’ll allow, leaning over for a kiss, saying quietly, “We’ll… we’ll be okay, love.” Aloke nods in silence, and leans into the kiss. He sighs into it, melting a little of his own tension away. "It's you and me, Mallo. I know we're not alone or anything… but me and you are partners. We're in this together. No matter what." He squeezes her hand and kisses her again. "Come on," he says softly. "It's almost time to get going, back in New York. You ready to go?" Mallory pulls Aloke closer to her when he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping the blanket tight around them as though it would keep all the bad things at bay. “Together,” she echoes quietly, bonking her head gently against his, “Hell, we made it through the zombie apocalypse. We can handle some bad dreams. Together.” Melting into the second kiss, Mallory sighs softly and nods, loosening her grip so she just holds on to his hand, “Ready when you are.”