From: "Calais Brice" Date: Sun, 08 Apr 2001 16:49:42 +0200 Subject: Fanfic submission Source: direct Title: Everything is just a dream Author: Calais e-mail: calaisbrice@hotmail.com Rating: PG Category: MSR Keywords: A, R, Character's death Spoilers: none, but set maybe in season 6? Summary: Everything is just a dream, now isn't it? Disclaimer: Because no names are mentioned herein I don't think I need one. But to be sure I promise that I don't make any money with it. Suddenly he woke. He had the undefined feeling that everything was just a dream and yet everything seemed so stunning real. Like in a dream he stood up, got dressed, had breakfast. In a matter of routine he did everything as he did it every morning, always accompanied by the feeling of not-true. He drove to work, as always. He wondered when she wasn't there. And he wouldn't wait for her this morning but went straightly to her, looked what was wrong with her. Because something was wrong, he felt it. He took his key to her door when she wouldn't reply to his repeatedly ringing and knocking. He entered her apartment and his eyes searched every corner for her. He went to her bedroom when he didn't see her. She was still lying in her bed, didn't move, slept peacefully and dreamt of nothing. A smile played about his lips when he saw her there. His secret, big love, for whose smile he lived. A look of her and he melted; did everything for her; never exposed himself. He went to her side slowly, sat next to her on the bed und looked for her hand under the sheets. His eyes fell onto her beautiful face, her charming eyes now closed. Her hand was cold and stiff, too cold for being too warm in here. Now he only wanted to wake her but nothing worked. Worry spread within him, he could have sworn her chest didn't move. He bent down to her, laid his ear to her lips and grew rigid. Nothing, pure nothing. Horrified he looked at her. He felt her pulse, felt again nothing. He listend to her heart, heard again nothing. Stiff of stunningness he bent back. He still hold her cold, dead hand and couldn't believe she wasn't anymore. Never he could show her his love, never, never. He knew her for so long, always she had been his best friend, his confidant, his Everything. No more smiles, no more bright looks which were only for him. Never he would take her hand again if fate had striked once again to hard. Only in her presence he dared to cry, no one else could comfort him as she used to do. He didn't need to control his emotions. But he did it nonetheless all the years over. In retrospect there is no use of asking what, if? In retrospect there are only memories. Her soft skin, her soft, body. Her beautiful eyes, her loving and always comforting hands. How ofter did she give him the courage, did she persuade him to carry on when he had long surrendered? But there was always a reason to go on. She. If only she wanted it, he would have done everything. He did. Now he hold her hand and didn't know what to do. He wondered what it would have felt like to kiss her. He touched her lips. He caressed them with his fingers. Closed his eyes and imagined it. Opened his eyes again and realized he would never find out. He cried. His everything left him and left was only a lonely man. The next days were terrible. And the longer she was desd the more terrible they became. In the beginning it was like on holiday. But the realization came gradually and he missed her. How would he have liked to call her, only calling her, only to know she was still there. She used to be so living over the phone, shortened his waiting period. Hardly a day passed they wouldn't have called each other. He loved her and he missed her. He would always love her and would always miss her. He missed her with everything he did. Only now he noticed how much she always helped him go on. Nothing was fun without her. He hardly ate, and drank only little, but slept most of the time. He took holiday to sleep. In sleep everything was quiet. There he didn't think about her, because he didn't think about anything. And in his dream she whispered to him. Once again she smiled at him, ran her hand through his hair. All the small things he loved about her. And when he woke everything had just been a dream. With her death living made no more sense. He didn't want to live and didn't know for what to live any more at all. He lost his job, and he didn't care. He didn't even notice. But now he could sleep all day. No, there really was no sense in living for him. He would be better if he followed her. And he died of starving. With her he died, too.