Author's Note: Based on the latest episode of series 2. Insomnia wreaks some degree of havoc with all the members involved in the post-office incident. Fic with POVs from James Dowland, Dorcas Lane, Celestia Brice-Coulson, Laura Timmins and Thomas Brown with a happy ending...perhaps...Feedback is always appreciated. Thank-you to all those who read the last one. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hope y'all like this one just as much.
INSOMNIA: James Dowland
He paced up and down in the darkness of his room. The light from the full harvest moon which poured burnished silver through his window was light enough. He had tried to shut it out with the curtains but it proved futile. Any attempts of sleep after that were worse than futile.
He paced…trying to avoid the pool of moonlight. He did not want something so pure touching his befouled self. The moonlight so pure, wantonly reminding him of everything Dorcas was in his eyes and everything he was not in her eyes. Nevertheless, he was lured to it, no measure of whisky (he had already tried that) or Japanese pillow would hypnotise him to sleep tonight, and yet it was sleep that he most craved.
He wanted this god-awful week to finally come to an end; to convince himself that everything was naught but a dream.
Nothing but the dull ache of his heart and the still figure visible in the distant window stopped him from believing it was all a fiendish nightmare.
He paused again at the window and looked out at the clock as it chimed 3 in the morning. The figure at the window was still there, silhouetted by the faint glow of a now-dying candle. He wondered if she had fallen asleep where she had sat for several hours, just as he had paced for several hours now.
He stopped and continued to stare from the safety of his dark room, the memories of the past two days filled his mind; the feeling of pure bliss and then pure heartbreak flooding his breast. Through now-closed eyes he saw her happy face when he asked her to be his. He remembered the number of times she had blinked in disbelief when he had asked and the surprising shy smile that had appeared at the corner of her mouth. Through closed eyes, he saw the hurt in her eyes when he admitted all. His body shook, remembering what it felt like to have her in his arms, to be that close to slipping the ring on her finger and making her his.
Open eyes stared at the figure he had come to know so well, his lips now twitching in memory of the sweetness he had tasted in her kiss – her one and only kiss to him. His breath froze in his chest at the intensity of missing her.
His hands trembled in memory of her hands enclosed in his. He almost smiled at the memory of brushing fingers together under the pages of the accounts books while Thomas Brown kept a watchful eye on them…but the smile never appeared. The memory did nothing but make him keel over with pain.
What galled him the most was that he never got the chance to apologise: To say he was sorry. The words had failed to come out. All that had come out was a need to explain himself, to prove to her that he was willing to give up everything to be with her. How could he have forgotten to start with a simple apology? Dull pain flowed up his arm as his fist collided with the wall.
He was a damned fool and this night would bring no rest. He tore his eyes away from the one person that would bring him rest and walked out of the room.