I need guidance, he whispers to himself in the dead of the night.

Nobody hears him and Nobody wakes from his slumber. Nobody floats down on a feather and dances across his stark cold bedclothes, lays it's hands on the manboy's face and grants him the gift of Dreams.

The manboy starts to twitch, and Nobody cackles and dances away into the night.

Hot metal and pink.

Wake up, she whispers, and then she laughs and laughs and suddenly he's laughing too, full bellied and raucous.

Her soft, small hands cover his and pull them upup over to her rounded belly.

She looks at him with love, her green eyes soft.

Too soft, as the green runs with the pink until all is black and he is falling straightstraight down.

He wakes on the bridge, and the wood is real and smooth under his hands.

A rough kick alerts him to the dobe's presence, and she is there as well.

His head hurts, and, snickering, Dobe asks him if it was a rough night last night, while she blushes.

He starts to smile, and suddenly they are beaming back at him – too wide as their faces split and they become his family.

Save us! They beg him, hands ripping at his clothes and he screams once, loud.

He wakens truly, and spends several seconds being a child before hardening and giving a cursory glance to the sentry.

Nobody watches on, still cackling, still dancing.

He will never ask for guidance again.


God knows.

But I'm well and truly back though, aren't I?

In for the long haul. Almost summer holidays, though I have a couple of annoying GCSE's to get through till then, but mostly the one-shots will be coming thick and fast.