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    Nephylim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Death by Dreaming - 3. Chapter 3

Marcus must have fallen asleep at some point, exhausted by the emotions that had battered against his defences until he felt weak and vulnerable. He woke with a start to find Angel staring at him. For a moment he was overwhelmed with flood of tenderness, so intense it almost swept away all his inhibitions, almost.

With supreme effort he forced the feelings down and brought the shutters down, failing to see the hurt look in Angel’s eyes when he did do.

“Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

“Okay, a little spacey. What happened?”

“You had a seizure. It was nasty but short. You better now?”

Angel nodded but there was something in his eyes that disturbed Marcus. “What’s wrong?”

Angel swallowed. “The... the last thing I remember is that... that man... his eyes. I... I had a dream last night.” He raised his eyes to Marcus who was shocked by the fear in them. Unconsciously he tightened his arm around Angel who barely noticed.

“I dreamed that someone came into my room. It wasn’t... it didn’t look... didn’t ‘feel’ human. I... I couldn’t move and... and there were... flashing lights and images and... and...”

Marcus could hear the tension, the fear in his voice and he squeezed him. “Steady on dude. That was probably a prequel to what happened today. I expect you had a seizure in your sleep and it scrambled your dreams.”

“Maybe...” he acknowledged doubtfully, “but that man Marc... that man... I saw him. I saw him in the dream. His eyes...” He shuddered as the image of blue eyes flashed in front of his eyes and almost sent him spinning again.

“You’ve just got things confused in your mind, that’s all.”

“I'm not confused. Well... yeah, I’m confused but not about that, not about that man. I... I can’t explain.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain. It’s over now.”

Angel frowned. “Is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“In my dream that man... he... he said that ‘they’/’he’ was coming for me. That he had put a mark on me and would take me. He said he would send signs...”

“What kind of signs?”

“I don’t know but I have a feeling that I just had one.”

“Angel, don’t make too much of this. You know what you’re like. You always get a little paranoid when you’re ill. It would be better to concentrate your energy on working out what brought this on so it doesn’t happen again. Have you been taking your meds?”

Angel nodded, his eyes locked with Marcus’, clearly revealing his emotions. He was confused and hurt about why Marcus was brushing aside his concerns so offhandedly. Marcus forced himself not to let go for a moment the rigid control. But Angel looked so cute, so hurt, so beautiful with the dying sun painting his hair gold and his sparkling eyes wide and oh so very blue. Unconsciously Marcus drew back and the pain in his friend’s eyes deepened.

“What have I done?”

“What?”

“What have I done to make you so angry with me?”

“Angry? I’m not angry with you? What the hell makes you think I am angry with you?”

“The way you look at me. It’s been going on for a while now. Suddenly it feels that you can hardly bear to be in the same room as me. I have been wracking my brains and I can’t think of a thing. Whatever it is can’t we talk about it? I hate to feel this... this barrier between us. You’re my best friend Marc and I can’t bear it that we seem to be drifting apart. I need you.”

Angel reached for him and Marcus jerked back, terrified by the look in his eyes and the way it was making him feel. Parts of his body that really needed to relax were waking under the attention of those amazing eyes and he had to get out of there now, before it was too late and things were taken out of his hands.

Rolling away he climbed to his feet. “You’re not well Angel, and you’re imagining things. Nothing is coming between us. Would I have driven all this way and spent such a glorious afternoon listening to you snore if it was? Come on, get up and we’ll go find Charlie. You know what she’s like, she’ll be worried about you.”

“I... alright.” His voice said quite clearly that he hadn’t believed a word that Marcus had said... but there was nothing he could do about it right then, nothing at all... it just wasn’t safe.

Charlie shrieked when they entered her room, and threw herself on Angel. He swayed a little under the onslaught but righted himself and hugged her laughing.

“Hey... careful. I’ve already fallen on my arse once today, don’t want to make a habit out of it.”

“Yeah... what’s with that? When did all that start again, and why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t... it hasn’t, I mean... that was the first time in ages... years. I’ve been good with the meds and I haven’t had a full on fit since...” he shrugged. “Actually I think you were here... or I was at yours... There’s been nothing since then.”

“It’s the stress. That awful family have put you under so much pressure the stress is getting to you and you are getting ill again. Stop it! Just stop it!”

Angel laughed at her scolding and hugged her close. She looked up into his face, her eyes losing their laughter.

“Seriously Angel. You look awful. I thought all this was behind you and we came so close to losing you last time...”

“Don’t go there Charlie.” He was equally serious. “That was very different. At that time I wanted to die. I wasn’t taking care of myself, wasn’t taking my meds, didn’t care what happened to me. That was an awful time Charlie. Okay, I’m going through a hard time right now but it’s nothing like before. I am not going to get sick again, not like that, never. I promise.”

“You better.” She lifted a small white hand with perfectly manicured nails and stroked his cheek. “We love you Angel. It would kill us if anything happened to you.”

He grinned. “Nothing is going to happen to me, except that I am going to take you down to the games room and kick your arse at pool. Race you.”

Before either Charlie or Marcus had time to think any more about what had happened they were forced to chase Angel out of the door and down the stairs. Even though he was still feeling shaky and tired he easily beat them both to the games room, although Marcus almost caught him at the end.

As his hand touched the door handle Marcus caught him by the waist and spun him away, putting himself between Angel and the door. Panting and laughing Angel protested.

“No fair. I got there first.”

“Only because you had a head start. You’re losing your touch.”

“Can I help it that you’ve suddenly grown a foot and your legs are longer than my body? You only have to take one step to my two... that’s an unfair advantage... and I STILL got here first... so get out of the way and let me in first.”

“No chance. You have to get through me.”

“You think I can’t.” Suddenly Angel darted at Marcus, feinted to one side and as Marcus lunged, dodged under his arm, opening the door as he did so. Just as he was about to slip through the door Marcus grabbed him by the waist again and swung him around into his arms. At first Angel struggled laughing, and then he caught sight of Marcus’ face. He had frozen and was looking at him as if he were holding a snake that he was afraid was about to bite him. Angel stopped struggling, stopped laughing and stopped caring about anything other than that look... it chilled him. There was something wrong with Marcus, something terribly, terribly wrong.

“What...?”

They were interrupted by Charlie who came flying around the corner and threw herself past the both of them, into the games room where she danced around singing. “I won, I won, I wo on.”

Looking suddenly embarrassed Marcus let Angel go and pushed past him into the room.

“Marcus, what...?”

Ignoring him Marcus grabbed Charlie and swung her around. She barely reached his shoulders and giggled as he easily lifted her clear of the floor.

“Make the most of it munchkin... it’s the last time you are going to get to say that word in this room.”

“Munchkin is it? That’s fighting talk.”

Angel watched the easy banter between the two friends as they played pool and for the first time ever felt envious of them. It had always been the three of them but suddenly he felt shut out. What was going on? What had he done? Why was Marcus shutting him out?

Shockingly he felt tears sting his eyes and he had to look away. The room was large, holding a number of tables, some for pool, table skittles, hockey... others, smaller, baize covered card tables and assorted tables for the playing of board games. On one side of the room was a large marble open fireplace. It was cold today because the room was warm, made cozy by the attention of the summer sun through the large bay windows. Near the fireplace was a small table set with a crystal and gold chess set. On either side were two leather wing chairs.

It was here, in front of the window, that his parents had often sat, lost in their game and in each other. Suddenly the chairs, the room and his heart felt empty and cold. Angel wandered over to the window, trailing his fingers over the chair as he passed. He could almost imagine that he could smell her perfume and the tart, earthy tang of his father’s cigar smoke.

The sun was bright but well on its way down towards the horizon. In an hour or two it would be sunset and already there was a different quality to the light. A sense of unreality settled over the gardens. Here, on this side of the house the windows looked out over herb garden towards the glasshouses and beyond to the gently swelling hills.

Angel opened the window and the room filled with the scents of lavender, sage and thyme. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. He had been so sure that when his friends arrived things would change. The heavy weight on his heart would lift. The stress of living with the Bishops would lift. And now... it was even worse. On top of all the stress of his approaching birthday and the added pressure it was placing on his relationship with the Bishops, he was now faced with the fact that, for whatever reason, and he really could not imagine what it could be, his best friend didn’t seem to even like him any more, was uncomfortable in his presence. He didn’t know what he’d done. It hurt.

And now there was nothing he could do to stop the tears from falling. Weariness washed over him and un noticed by his friends he sank to his knees, resting his arms on the windowsill and weeping silently, his forehead pressed against his arms.

“Oh how beautiful... and oh so sad.”

The voice sent chills down Angel’s back, biting through his misery, and he turned.

“What the fuck do you do want Henry? And what do you mean?” The enmity in Marcus’s voice only made Henry smile.

“I came to remind you about dinner. My father wanted to make sure that the poor little angel was up to it.” He wandered into the room and picked up a skittle ball from the table, which was close to the door. Seemingly fascinated by the smooth wooden surface he ruminated. “He’s been so looking forward to your visit, you know. Poor little Angel, so lost and alone. I suppose he was expecting that to be different with you here. I guess he was wrong.” Grinning he put down the ball and turned to go.

“What do you mean?” Marcus was entirely focussed on him, anger blazing in his eyes, blind to anything that was going on around him. Charlie was more switched on and her eyes quickly scanned the room, resting on Angel and widening. She put a hand on Marcus’s arm. He glanced at her and followed her gaze.

Henry laughed. “Great friends you have Alexander. Dinner in half an hour. I’ll tell father you’ll be delighted to attend.”

“No!”

“Excuse me?”

Marcus was staring at Angel with a horrified expression on his face. His anger had been picked up by Charlie and he burned.

“Tell your father that Angel is not feeling well and we’ll be having a quiet dinner together. Maybe... if you’re lucky, you can get to eat with us tomorrow. Maybe.”

Henry smiled a slow malicious smile then cast a contemptuous look at Angel and stalked out. As soon as he had gone Charlie rushed to Angel’s side and threw her arms around him.

“I’m so sorry hun. I got caught up in the game. I didn’t realise you were upset. Why didn’t you say something? Are you okay? Are you ill? What’s wrong?”

Angel couldn’t answer. He just let himself be held and rested his hot cheek on her soft hair and allowed the tears to flow unchecked.

Marcus watched the two of them and cursed himself that he was not the one who had run to him, that it wasn’t him who was holding him, that he couldn’t comfort him because he had no comfort to give. It was his fault, all his fault. He had upset Angel, he knew that, he’d seen the look in his eyes. This was all his fault and, what’s more he was going to continue to hurt him because he couldn’t be his friend any more... he couldn’t be just his friend... and he couldn’t be more.

That evening they ate in the conservatory again and watched the sun set over the hills. Angel wasn't interested in the food, although Charlie badgered and cajoled him and even fed him in desperation, until he had no choice but to get up and walk away.

“I’m going for a walk. I feel like I need some fresh air.”

“Do you want some company?”

“No, not right now. I... I won’t be long.”

Marcus stared out of the window watching the slender figure slowly disappearing into the darkness. He felt as though his heart was being torn out of his chest.

“What’s the matter with him? I’m worried Marc. I didn’t realise it was this bad.”

“I don’t know. I’m worried too. I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe we should get him away from this place. I though that once we were here he would relax and have fun but there’s something going on and I can’t put my finger on it.”

‘I can,’ thought Marcus, ‘but I daren’t.’ “I know.” He said. “We have to do something don’t we?”

“We do. But what?”

“What if we go somewhere for the day tomorrow, get him away from this house? We could drive up to London and take him to the museum... he likes it there. We could have dinner in Covent Garden and listen to some music then take in a matinee and be back here at a reasonable time.”

“Is he up to it?”

“We can always come back if he gets tired.”

Charlie hugged him hard and slipped under his arm. She looked up into his face and he couldn’t help but return her smile.

“It sounds like a plan.”

***

That night Angel was reluctant to sleep alone but he was afraid to discuss his fears with his friends. When he’d come back from his walk feeling more clear headed and positive, his friends had been warm and welcoming, excited about their idea for the trip, an excitement that had infected him, and the last thing he had wanted was to see that look come into Marcus’s eyes again.

As it turned out he needn’t have worried because he slept a deep, peaceful dream free sleep to wake refreshed and feeling much better the next day.

The trip was fun and the day flew. Sitting between Marcus and Charlie in the theatre Angel felt truly relaxed for the first time in what seemed like an age and it was almost as if the events of the previous day had never happened. They had laughed and played, ate, drank and listened to music. Now they were sitting in companionable silence and watching an excellent production of Les Miserables. It was his favourite musical and he was feeling truly happy.

Surreptitiously he cast glances at his friends. Charlie was trying to pretend she wasn’t crying. She always cried at this show. She started sniffling at the very beginning and didn’t stop until she dissolved into sobs at the end. He squeezed her hand and smiled as she looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, smiling happily.

Glancing in the other direction his smile deepened. Marcus wasn’t crying. Marcus never cried, at least he had never seen Marcus cry, not every. But he was enraptured by the music and the story. He was leaning forward slightly in his seat and his lips moved with the words of the songs. He looked beautiful.

As if aware that he was being watched Marcus turned and smiled at him and he smiled back. There was no shadow in his eyes now. He looked just like he had always looked, open and bright and safe. Angel sighed and settled back into his seat to watch the rest of the show.

After the show they went for dinner and then to pub for a drink. By the time they were driving home it was dark and Angel was feeling utterly relaxed and mellow, so much so he fell asleep in the back of the car and awoke with a start when they arrived. Charlie was laughing at him, her face still slightly puffy from crying but very pretty for it.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t sitting in the back or you would have no eyebrows left by now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Do you want to test me?”

“Erm... maybe not.” He grinned happily as they crunched across the gravel towards the front door.

“What shall we do now? It’s still early.”

“How about raiding the kitchen for some snacks and wine and going up to my room to watch a DVD.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You go up and choose a film... and no chick flicks. Marc and I will get the food and wine.”

“Okay... meet you there.”

They both watched for a moment as she bounced lightly up the stairs and then turned towards the kitchen.

Betty was delighted to see them. She had been more shaken and concerned than she would admit when Charlton had told her what happened to Angel. Now she fussed around him, insisting on healthy snacks and only reluctantly allowing Marcus to take two bottles of wine from the rack. He pushed another one under his shirt. They were both laden as they made their way slowly up the stairs.

“I had a great time today.”

“Good. You seem more relaxed.”

“I am. It’s been a tough time.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not now. Maybe after that wine.”

“Heh. You’ve had plenty already.”

“Sour grapes... you’re going to have to catch up.”

“No chance. If I drink wine too fast I always end up making a fool of myself.”

“No problem. You’re among friends, and it’s not like we haven’t seen you make a fool of yourself before.”

Marcus chuckled and then sobered and continued in silence. Angel felt his heart sink as that damned shutter fell again. What the hell was going on? What had he said now? It was all going so well and now... and now... now what?

His feet dragged the rest of the way to his room and he was glad to set down the tray which suddenly seemed as heavy as his heart.

Charlie was bouncing as usual, impatient for their return and for once her enthusiasm didn’t touch him. He laid the tray on a small table at the side of the bed, kicked off his shoes and climbed up to sit with his back to the headboard hugging a pillow. Charlie crawled up to cuddle into his side and Marcus stretched full length across the bottom of the bed facing away from them with his chin on his crossed arms. Angel stared at the back of his head and frowned.

Both Angel and Marcus groaned when Charlie switched on the film.

“I thought we said NO chick flicks.”

“Titanic is not a chick flick.”

“Oh no?”

“Awww go on... it’s a lovely film”

“Just because you want to cry again doesn’t mean that we want to sit here and be bored out of our minds.”

“Awwww.... go on... puleeeeze.”

Smiling Angel hugged her... “Alright, pass me a glass of wine and I’ll get quietly sloshed while you watch it.”

“You don’t get sloshed quietly. You start to giggle at things and then you sing and then you fall asleep.”

“Am I so predictable?” He chuckled. “Hey! I don’t ‘giggle’.”

“You so do, doesn’t he Marcus?”

“Don't drag me into this.”

“See.”

“That was not a support of you. That was non committal.”

“Marcus always supports me, don’t you Marc?”

“Only when you’re falling down.”

“I do not fall down, I.... Oh... yeah...” They lapsed into silence as Charlie poured a glass of wine and handed it to Angel and then slapped Marcus on the head as she crawled back into her place.

“Ow. What was that for?”

“For being a jerk.”

“Oh well... I was born a jerk so what can you expect?”

“Shut up and watch the film.”

Surprised by the sharpness of her tone he turned his head to look at her, caught the expression on Angel’s face, opened his mouth to say something, thought that he would probably just make it worse and turned back to the film with a sigh.

They didn’t talk much after that, all three of them lost in their own thoughts. By the time the film was finished Angel was asleep, the wine, forgotten, placed on the table at the side of the bed.

Charlie sat up and stretched like a cat, looking down into the sleeping face of her friend with a frown on her own. She had long ago learned that it was pointless to love Angel, at least in any kind of a romantic way. He saw her as a sister and always had. She’d learned that it was pointless but she did it anyway.

“Did you and Angel have a fight?”

“What?” Marcus was half asleep himself. He rolled over and looked up at her. “No, why?”

“I don’t know it’s just that when we came back from the trip he was all relaxed and bubbly again... until the two of you went down to the kitchen. And then that remark you made....”

“What remark?”

“About him falling down.”

“Oh... I was just being a shit head... as usual. We didn’t fight, Charlie, we never fight.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No, but there is something going on isn’t there. You’ve been really touchy with him for ages. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s up. We’re cool.”

“Hmm... well... if you don’t want to tell me you don’t have to tell me but if you have issues you had better work them out soon. We are here to help him and not make it worse for him.”

“I’m not...”

“Really?”

“Shut up Charlie.”

Angel stirred as Marcus got off the bed and prowled towards the door, anger shimmering from him like an aura.

“What...? What’s up? Is the film finished?”

“Yeah hun. We’re off to bed. You fell asleep.”

He frowned. “I was tired. What time is it? Do you have to go?”

“It’s late. You should get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Do we? Have you planned something else while I was asleep?”

“Nope... but whatever we are going to do it’s going to be busy.”

Angel gave a thin smile. “Alright... if you have to.”

“What’s wrong hun?”

“Nothing it’s just... no, nothing. Go to bed. I’m fine... just going to get undressed and got to sleep. See you in the morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He didn’t sound sure, even to himself. He was frowning and the hand that reached for the wine glass was not steady at all.

“Are you worrying about that dream?”

Angel looked up at Marcus who had paused in the doorway. He nodded, biting his lip. If he had known how close Marcus came in that moment to offering to stay with him... if he had known the inner battle that went on behind those cold grey eyes... if he had known how vulnerable he looked and how much Marcus wanted to go to him and hold him and comfort him. But he didn’t know and when Marcus shrugged and walked away he thought that it was because he didn’t care.

Charlie stared after Marcus for a moment with an angry and puzzled frown on her face then she turned to Angel.

“What dream?”

“It’s nothing hun. I had a bad dream and it freaked me. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s more than that isn’t it?”

He shook his head, suddenly exhausted, too tired to even think of it let alone speak of it.

“Tomorrow Charlie, okay. I’m really tired now.”

“You look it. Go straight to bed okay?”

“I’m already in bed.”

“You know what I mean.”

He grinned and nodded. She hugged him tightly and then followed Marcus, leaving Angel feeling strangely empty and very alone.

After staring at the closed door for a while he slid off the bed, dropped his clothes on the floor where he stood and then climbed under the covers. It took a long time to get to sleep but in the end he fell into a fitful slumber, his mind full of cold grey eyes and a nagging feeling that he was missing something really important.

Copyright © 2010 Nephylim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Hmmm, I think Angel needs to be leary of his guardian. Sounds like maybe he is being brainwashed while he thinks he is sleeping. And for the love of pete would his best friend just get on with it and tell him how he feels. Some characters you would love to just reach right into the story and slap 'em so hard that when they wake their clothes will be out of style. I suppose it will all come when the time is right.

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On 09/17/2012 12:42 PM, CW Prince said:
Hmmm, I think Angel needs to be leary of his guardian. Sounds like maybe he is being brainwashed while he thinks he is sleeping. And for the love of pete would his best friend just get on with it and tell him how he feels. Some characters you would love to just reach right into the story and slap 'em so hard that when they wake their clothes will be out of style. I suppose it will all come when the time is right.
Aww, give the guy a break, he IS American after all :) Thanks for continuing to read and review, I hope I don't disappoint.
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I felt sorry for both Angel and Marcus, they need to talk to each other and tell how they are feeling before someone gets hurt more.

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On 01/26/2014 06:30 AM, Suvitar said:
I felt sorry for both Angel and Marcus, they need to talk to each other and tell how they are feeling before someone gets hurt more.
They're both on the edge. Marcus has had more time to think about it than Angel. I genuinely believe he's never thought about Marcus like that and it's taken him completely by surprise. He's confused by Marcus' behviour and thinks it's his fault, which it kind of is.
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