Death by Dreaming - 9. Chapter 9

Marcus opened his eyes and groaned. His head was throbbing and his mouth was dry. Had he really drunk so much the night before? He must be losing his touch. Usually he could drink as much as he wanted and not suffer so much as a twinge the next day. Must be getting old... or maybe it was the stress. Damn the Bishops.

He rolled over and put his arm around Angel, stroking his back gently. He felt cold and Marcus pulled the duvet around them both. Angel stirred and snuggled into him moaning softly.

For a moment Marcus just looked at him. The curtains were wide open. Someone came in early every morning and took care of it quietly. At the same time they picked up the dirty clothes from the floor and cleared away any debris from the night before. That was the way things were done in this house... they were taken care of quietly.

In the beginning Marcus had felt a little uneasy that someone came into his room when he was asleep. But it was all so quiet and unobtrusive that he got used to it very quickly. Generally it was very convenient... except on days like today when the sunlight stabbed into his aching, tired eyes like shards of glass. This morning he cursed the invisible curtain opener whoever they were.

The only good thing about the curtains being open was that he could see Angel clearly. Angel looked beautiful this morning. Angel looked beautiful every morning, every minute of the day ... like an angel. Marcus sighed and stroked his hair, watching with a smile on his lips as he stirred and his eyes flickered.

Slowly and sleepily Angel opened his eyes and blinked up at Marcus, sighing with pleasure at his touch in his hair.

“Good morning pretty angel.”

“Good...” Angel paused and frowned, a shiver passing through him. He swallowed heavily and his frown became a scowl.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus was still stroking his hair and he closed his eyes, surrendering to the touch. His head was throbbing, blinding him with pain, and his mouth tasted of blood.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Sorry about what?” Marcus was genuinely puzzled. He stopped stroking his hair to look properly into his face, noticing for the first time the dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

“I dreamed...” Angel whispered again, wincing as his cheek and tongue throbbed. “... I dreamed and I think I... I think I had...”

Marcus, realising, took Angel into his arms and held him close. How could he not have noticed? How could he not have known? Did he really sleep through the whole thing, lost in his own world while his angel was struggling in his? Marcus was shocked. He was not usually a heavy sleeper and he couldn’t understand how he hadn’t woken. Had he really drank that much? He wracked his brain trying to remember what. There had been a Scotch and soda before the meal... a couple of glasses of wine and a glass of brandy. Hardly a hardcore drinking session. He sighed and devoted all his attention to Angel.

“You have nothing to be sorry about my love. You can’t help it. It isn’t as if you do it on purpose.” He pulled away and looked down into Angel’s face a look of mock severity on his own. “You don’t do it on purpose do you?”

Angel smiled hesitantly. “No... of course not.”

“Then no apologies.”

“Marcus I... I dreamed again... one of those strange dreams. I’m scared.” He really did look scared, his eyes enormous in a pale face. Marcus stroked his face and he closed his eyes snuggling into the touch.

“It was just a dream.”

“I know but... but every time I have one... like this... something happens. I’m scared about what is going to happen today. I’m going have another seizure... I know I am.”

“Don't be silly. It’s just a dream Angel... just a dream. The only way it is going to make you sick is if you let it. Just relax baby... relax and it’s going to be alright. I’m here now. I am going to take care of you, I swear. Hey... we’re going to Glastonbury today... you love it there... and this time we’ll be together. It’s going to be a good day.”

“I... I don’t know. Something’s happening to me. I don’t know what it is but it scares me. These dreams... they’re... they’re more than just dreams. I... the first time I saw that man... that lawyer. I couldn’t have known he was coming because he didn’t even make the arrangements until after the dream happened. And then the path... There was no way I could have known I was going to take it that day... and every time I see what happened... bang. I’m scared.”

“Angel... I know you’re scared hun, I can tell but... sometimes nightmares can be scary but they’re not real.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare, not exactly. It was real Marcus. It was... I can't explain. It’s as if I am being warned, being told when something bad is going to happen although sometimes, sometimes I feel as if they’re not warning me about what is going to happen but are making it happen.”

“Angel you know that’s just silly. Dreams can’t make bad things happen.”

“My head knows that... but my gut... my gut is telling me that something’s wrong. There’s something wrong with me Marcus, something terribly wrong.”

Marcus began to get spooked by the look on Angel’s face and the tremor in his voice. Of course Marcus didn’t hold any stock with the idea that Angel’s dreams had anything at all to do with what was happening to him, but it was clear that Angel did and he knew what Angel could be like.

“What was this dream about?”

“A letter. A letter addressed to me.”

“You dreamed about getting a letter? How do you know it’s a dream like the others... it’s just a dream.”

“No... these dreams are different. They feel... I don’t know. I dream that I wake up and... and it’s dark and cold and I can’t move. And then... I’m so scared and a voice starts talking to me. I don’t know what it says but it makes my body relax and it’s the voice...the voice makes the pictures come...that and the light... There’s a light that flashes in my head and makes the pictures... the eyes; the path; the letter.” He buried his face in Marcus’ chest and clung to him. “I’m scared Marcus, really scared.”

“It’s alright Angel. I’m here. You’re safe with me... and it’s just a dream... It was just a dream. You’re going to be okay. I’ve been making you take your meds haven’t I? I’m sure that’s what’s been making you sick. You’ve just been so stressed and distracted you forgot to take them. You’re back on track now and you are going to be alright.”

“I hope so but...”

“No buts.” He pulled back and looked into the beautiful face again, smiling. “You are going to be fine. No seizures today. No sickness at all. We’re going to spend the day together in the sunshine and we are going to have a great time. We are not going to think about dreams or the Bishops or any of the shit that’s going on in your life. Just us.”

“And Charlie.”

Marcus grinned. “Of course... and Charlie. She’d never forgive us if we forgot her.”

“Marc... I... don’t feel very well.”

“Well... I can’t say that I’m on top of the world either. Do you think they poisoned the chicken?”

Angel smiled. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Marcus hugged him and then let him go. “Go take a shower. I need to go get some clothes... your maids keep stealing mine and yours are never going to fit me.”

“That’s because you are so fat.”

“Will you stop with the fat thing? I’ve just been working out that’s all.”

Angel gave him a look from under lowered lashes that made his cock twitch. “I know. I like it.”

Marcus gave him a smack on the ass and then climbed groggily out of bed. He groaned. “Hell I am going have to either stop drinking or drink more. I can’t hold them like I used to. The hangover fairy is giving me a hard time.”

Angel sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his temple. “Me too. I think she shit in my mouth.”

“You have such a lovely turn of phrase but I know exactly what you mean. Go shower. I’ll see you shortly.

They were at breakfast, well technically brunch as it was past eleven o’clock, when the door opened and Henry marched in.

Both Angel and Marcus were unusually subdued and Charlie had been teasing them about being lightweights in the alcohol consumption stakes. Neither of them had managed to eat much. Angel had done nothing more than push food around on his plate, letting his coffee go cold while he stared morosely out of the window at the garden where the weather perfectly matched his mood.

It was dark, the sky overcast and leaden grey, fine drizzle obscuring everything beyond the patio. After so many days of bright sunshine it was depressing to say the least.

Angel felt strange... nervous and on edge. He had deliberately not checked the mail, leaving it in the cubby holes near the front door. All the mail was sorted by Charlton as soon as it arrived each morning and placed in the correct slot. Part of him berated himself for his cowardice, but it was a small part, the part that wasn’t unnerved and scared by the dream and the lingering sense of impending doom.

His mouth was sore where he had bitten it in his sleep and he couldn’t bear even to drink the coffee because it stung and burned him. His head was filled with cotton wool and pressure so it was hard to think, to see anything clearly, past the gnawing fear.

They all looked up at Henry surprised by the intrusion.

“What?” He was grinning. They were annoyed by his presence and his grin just made it worse. They all had the same thought. ‘What was he up to now?’

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to disturb your little tea party for long. Mother wanted me to give you this... it got mixed up with hers.”

He was holding something in his hand and he extended it towards Angel. Angel froze, his eyes going wide, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Reflexively he shook his head, drawing away. “No.”

“What? Don’t be stupid. What’s the matter with you now? It’s only a letter.”

Only a letter. Just a letter. A letter in a neat creamy envelope. From where he was sitting Angel could see the writing, a dark blur on the pale parchment. He moaned and closed his eyes. “No.”

“What the fuck? Just take the letter you freak.”

Marcus looked from Angel to the letter to Henry. Remembering the earlier conversation he knew why Angel was scared and he got angry.

“Just put the fucking letter with the others in the hall and piss off.”

“What’s the big deal? It's just a letter. In fact it’s an invitation, we’ve all had one. It’s some stupid invitation to a garden party at some church. It’s not going to bite him.”

Marcus didn’t like the look on Henry’s face. His eyes were glittering and he looked... hungry.

“Take the letter...invite... whatever, and stick it up your fucking... tight... ass – that is unless you want me to do it for you.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near my arse you sick fucker. Here...” He tossed the letter onto the table in front of Angel who couldn’t help but glance at it, having opened his eyes to defend Marcus. The writing was exactly as he had seen it in his dream... black, ornate, the characters dancing before his eyes, mocking him.

“Charlie...”

She was moving before he started speaking, reaching, snatching the envelope off the table and thrusting it into her pocket. But it was too late.

Angel was frozen, his vision still filled with the writing, the envelope and everything else faded. He seemed to hear voices... some distant and one whispering in his ear ... and then they all faded.

Marcus managed to reach Angel in time to lower him gently to the floor before his body went rigid and began to shake.

Hurriedly moving the chair and anything else on which he might hurt himself, out of the way he was entirely focussed on Angel for so long as it took for the seizure to run its course. It seemed to take a long time today, a very long time.

When, at last Angel began to relax Marcus lifted him in his arms and cradled him against his chest while Charlie knelt nervously to one side holding his hand.

“Oh, what a touching scene. Damn; that was better than the theatre.”

Marcus looked up, surprised that Henry was still there, angry that he was still there. Henry was grinning and his eyes were... triumphant. Marcus narrowed his own eyes and Henry’s smile slipped.

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come here?”

“To bring that stupid letter of course. I told you... it got mixed up with ours and...”

“So why didn’t you just put it in the hall? Why bring it here?”

Henry’s eyes narrowed and Marcus saw a flash of... something. “I don’t know. Mother said bring it to him so I brought it to him. I didn’t know it was going to make him freak did I?”

Angel moaned and stirred and Marcus looked down at him, something gnawing at the back of his mind... that look in Henry’s eyes... as if... as if... but no, it was impossible... wasn’t it? He looked up again.

“But you did know didn’t you? You did know it would freak him out.”

Again that flash of... something... what? Fear? Pain? Guilt?... Triumph?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Henry sneered but there was uncertainty there now.

“Last night... last night you said ‘Sweet dreams’. What do you know about his dreams? What are you doing Henry? What’s going on?”

Henry’s eyes went wide and the fear was plain now. What was he afraid of?

“You’re fucking crazy... as crazy as he is.”

“What are you doing to him Henry?”

“You’ve lost the plot man.” Looking distinctly nervous Henry backed away and fled. Marcus’ attention was diverted as Angel moaned again and then blinked open his eyes.

“Hey there babe. Rest for a minute. You’re okay.”

Angel looked at him blankly. Marcus knew that he had no idea who he was and that hurt... but he kept his face and voice calm.

“It’s okay dude. No problem. Just give yourself a minute.”

Angel said nothing and made no attempt to move, just blinked at him, looking completely spaced out. His eyes wandered past him. Marcus had no idea what he was thinking, if he was thinking anything at all.

Frothy spittle flecked his lips and dribbled from the corner of his mouth. It was pink with blood. Marcus wiped it gently with his tshirt. Angel looked at him again, a slight frown on his face as if he was trying to work something out. Of course he was. He was trying to understand a world what didn’t make much sense to him right then. He had no idea where he was or who he was or who they were.

“It’s okay Angel... that’s your name – Angel. Do you remember?”

Angel just stared blankly, his eyes drifting away again. Marcus frowned.

“You don’t really think that Henry had anything to do with this do you? I mean, how could he?”

Marcus’ frown deepened. “I don’t know but... did you see his face? He knew something... he knew this was going to happen and he came to gloat.”

“But he couldn’t have known.”

Marcus’ frown turned thoughtful. “Can you provoke a seizure... make it happen?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so... and if you could Henry wouldn’t have a clue.”

“No but Charles might... or at least have access to people who would.”

They exchanged glances and shivered, then Charlie shook her head firmly. “No. It’s ridiculous. Charles is a shit but he wouldn’t hurt Angel, not like this. He was there, last time. He saw what happened, how ill Angel was. He wouldn’t...”

“He was there wasn’t he?”

“What?”

“He was there, he does know. He knows how bad it can be.”

Charlie shook her head again. “You’re paranoid. There’s no way you are going to convince me that the Bishops are making Angel ill deliberately. It’s just ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But think about it. If Angel is ill or... or... worse, then what happens to the company the house, everything? There’s no one else.”

“I wouldn’t go to Charles.”

“Then who? And even if not it’s going to go somewhere and that somewhere is a lot more likely to keep him on than Angel is. AND he gets to live in the house without Angel making sure he doesn’t breach the terms of the will and turn it into God knows what.”

Charlie stared at him horrified, then shook her head. “No. I can’t accept it. They wouldn’t. It’s nonsense. It was just Henry being Henry. He’s a twat but he’s not a... not a...”

“Give me the letter.”

“What?”

“The letter... you took it. Give it to me, I want to check something.”

Puzzled Charlie reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope. Careful not to let Angel see it he scanned it and then looked up again his lips pursed grimly.

“It’s post marked over a week ago.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. There is a postal strike on don’t forget.”

“I know... but still.” Thinking deeply Marcus grunted. “I need to speak to Charlton.”

“What? Can’t it wait?”

“No. I don’t think it can. Angel... Angel honey can you sit up... just a little honey. I need to go somewhere for a minute. I won’t be long.”

Obediently Angel sat up and Marcus tilted him so he was leaning against Charlie. She put her arm around him. He made no complaint, merely watched disinterestedly with blank eyes.

“He’s right out of it this time isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Marcus stroked his cheek and the heavy eyes wandered back to him, briefly connecting and provoking a brief smile before sliding away again.

“Angel.” He said softly and the eyes fixed on him again. Oh God they were so blue. “I’m going out for a minute. You’re safe with Charlie. You know Charlie. You’re okay here. I’ll be right back.”

Angel didn’t care. In so many ways Angel wasn’t really there. He rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Marcus watched him for a few moments and then got stiffly to his feet.

“Don’t be long Marcus. You’ve got me all freaked out and scared now.”

“Don’t worry Charlie. I won’t be long.”

True to his word he was back in a little over five minutes looking pale and stressed.

“Well?”

“Charlton remembered them. He put them in the cubbies himself... three days ago.”

“So it’s taken Henry three days to deliver a letter; so what. It’s hardly grounds to accuse him of...” She paused unable to say the word, to make it real. “Is it?”

“Maybe not but it’s enough to convince me there’s something going on. I think it’s time I did some research.”

“What kind of research?”

“You’ll see.”

Crouching in front of Angel Marcus shook him gently by the shoulder. He opened his eyes. They were still blank but there was something there, some spark.

“How are you feeling babe?”

“Marcus?”

“Hey yeah. You okay?”

“Marcus.”

“Still not with us huh? Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.”

Between them Charlie and Marcus got him to his feet but he couldn’t walk, he was too confused, too disoriented. In the end Marcus swept him up into his arms and he clung to his neck, nestling his head into his hair. For a moment Marcus closed his eyes and shivered.

When Angel was safely tucked up in bed Marcus switched on the computer and surfed for a while, with Charlie at his shoulder, complaining about the futility of the search and the craziness of Marcus’ paranoid suspicions.

“I don’t care Charlie. I need to do this. I really need to do it, if only to set my mind at rest.”

An hour later he clicked off the latest site offering information on epilepsy, and sat back, rubbing his eyes.

“Well... epilepsy can be triggered. Fatigue, stress, flashing lights, drugs, alcohol... lots of things.”

“Yeah, I know but none of that applies here. Angel wasn’t near any of those things. He isn’t even particularly stressed any more, and it doesn’t explain the dreams.”

“Maybe. He did mention flashing lights though... in his dream.”

“But that would have triggered it there and then.”

“Maybe it did. He had one in the night remember.”

“Yeah... maybe, but that was then , there weren’t any lights in the family room, and none of the other stuff either.”

“No... but what if...?”

“Marcus you’re insane, and you are totally clutching at straws. Charles and Henry are NOT trying to kill Angel.”

“Maybe. Maybe I am being dramatic but... I can’t just leave it. If I go down every path I see and find a block end then I will know and I will be happy. But if there is the slightest chance that Angel is in danger I am not going to let it rest.”

Charlie smiled and kissed him. “I would have been disappointed if you had. So what’s next?”

Marcus thought for a while then reached for the phone. “Harry.”

“Harry? What has Harry got to do with this?”

“You’ll see. And Charlie...”

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell Angel about any of this. He has enough to worry about.”