UNWANTED
"Every now and then I get a little bit angry
And I know I've got to get out a cry—
(Turn around)
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified
But then I see the look in your eyes—
(Turn around, Bright Eyes)
Every now and then I fall apart—
(Turn around, Bright Eyes)
Every now and then I fall apart—
And I need you now, tonight."
- Bonnie Tyler
The dream begins the same—always the same.
Two faces, blurry like he is looking at them from underwater, slowly come into focus. He is handsome, with smiling eyes and a beard that no doubt provides scratchy dad-kisses. She is beautiful, all kind, dimpled smiles and a warm expression. They love him. He knows it—he feels it radiating from them.
He reaches pudgy pink hands towards them, trying to catch them, wanting so desperately to be held. To plant sloppy baby kisses on their cheeks. To tell them he loves them as much as they love him.
As they look down at him, their expressions begin to change. At first they are fond—but as he reaches for them that fondness slowly falls into disgust. They wrinkle their noses and exchange disappointed glances. He knows what they're thinking—this is it? This is our son? What a shame.
He opens his mouth to beg for them to give him a chance. But all that comes out is a pathetic, mewling scream. The woman shakes her head. The man sighs. This isn't the child they wanted. This isn't the son they were hoping for.
They turn away and he screams louder. He weeps. He grabs at the air with his pudgy pink hands and wails for his parents to come back to him, to hold him, to love him—
Then everything stops.
000
Gwizdo opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of Zoria's bedroom—his and Zoria's bedroom now. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing the tears that had welled up there to be sucked back into their ducts. Every time—he cried every flipping time he had that dream. And he'd been having it almost once a week since before he could remember.
But this was the first time he'd had it with Zoria in the same room. It wasn't so bad when Lian-Chu or Hector caught him crying—they knew about the dream. They knew it embarrassed him to cry in front of them, and that it was best if they just left him alone until he fell back to sleep.
Hopefully he wouldn't have to have that talk with Zoria tonight. Hopefully she'd just sleep through it, hopefully he could keep his crying restrained—
Nope. No such luck. He sniffled and hiccoughed the same as he always did. Softly but most definitely out loud. And he could feel Zoria stirring beside him.
"Mm… Gwizdo?" she murmured. She raised her head—at the sight of him, she sat up fully and put a hand on his shoulder. "Gwizdo, what's wrong?"
"Nothin'," he said. "Go back to sleep."
"Are you crying?"
He sniffled. "…No."
"Yes, you are. What's the matter?"
He looked up at her, at her brows creased with worry, her pretty mouth pursed into a frown. She was concerned and stubborn and he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't be able to fall asleep until he told her what was going on. He sighed.
"I had a bad dream, all right? No big deal, just a bad dream, that's all."
"What was it about?" she settled down so she was lying next to him on her side, gazing at him with those quizzical eyes of hers. Darn her and her face. He couldn't say no to it.
"It… I don't…" he sighed again. "I was a baby and… an' my parents didn't want me. That's it. Nothin' scary or anythin', they just didn't want me. Heh, it sure sounds stupid when ya say it out loud, but..." he closed his eyes. "Well… y'know how dreams are sometimes."
"It doesn't sound stupid," Zoria said quietly. Gwizdo opened one eye. She was frowning again. "You know… you and Lian-Chu never talk much to me about your childhoods. But when you think about it, I'm probably the one person you should talk to about it—I'm an orphan too, and I know how it feels to be left alone like that."
She rubbed his shoulder a little, and he flinched away.
"No, you don't know," he snapped. "I mean, sure, you an' Lian-Chu got a lot in common, but my parents didn't die, Zoria—heck, they're prob'ly out there right now, havin' the time o' their lives without me. They just left me at Mother Hubbard's and went on their merry way—in the flippin' rain, to boot. You lived in a castle, and your parents loved you. It ain't the same thing at all."
"They died when I was five, Gwizdo," Zoria said, and though she kept her voice level he could tell she was getting angry. "I spent most of my childhood with my Uncle Arnold, and you of all people should know how well-treated I was there."
He chuckled. "Yeah… he wasn't exactly a fun uncle, was he? But at least you got to know your parents."
"That doesn't make it any easier," she murmured. "Don't you think it's hard to know that they were there and they loved you and that nothing you can ever do will bring them back? I can still remember the lullaby my mother sang to get me to sleep each night… I still remember the jokes my father told when we skipped stones on the duckpond. I remember everything..." he heard her voice break, "but no matter what I do, I can't remember their faces. They're just blurs… and I'll never get them back again."
Gwizdo didn't know what to say. He watched her wipe the tears from her eyes and reached for her hand under the covers. Their fingers entwined, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Sorry," she said, smiling. "You're right—at least I got to know them. And I found a new family soon enough… thanks to you."
She leaned forward and kissed him softly, nestling her head in the crook of his arm and winding one of her legs around his. She lifted their clasped hands to rest on his chest.
"And you've got a family here, too," she went on. "You know that, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he said. "But…"
She sighed, understanding. "But."
"I just wish I knew," he said slowly, "why they didn't want me. I must'a been a cute baby—heck, I was probably the cutest goshdarn baby they ever saw. I mean, the other kids always said I had a salamander-face, but what'd they know, right?"
"They might've been poor," Zoria pointed out. "Your parents, I mean. They probably loved you very much, they just couldn't afford to keep you."
"That's no excuse," Gwizdo snapped, though his anger wasn't directed towards his bedmate. "I'm broker 'n broke, and if I ever had a kid I'd keep him—even if it meant I had to starve. Anything'd be better 'n lettin' him grow up thinkin' nobody loved him, that he wasn't good enough," he bit back the lump in his throat, "that nobody'd ever come for him, or stay with him. I was lucky to have Lian-Chu… but for a long time he was all I had. If I lost him, I'd've lost everythin'."
And I was so scared to lose him, not to a dragon, but to me. I was scared he'd look at me one day and see what my parents saw… scared he'd wise up and leave me alone again.
The words remained unspoken but Zoria understood. She squeezed his hand again.
"But you didn't lose him," she whispered. "He didn't leave you... and d'you know why?"
"'Cause he's an even bigger idiot than me?"
"Because," she propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at him, "you thought wrong. People do love you, Gwizdo. I love you. And I want to stay with you."
"Oh, really?" he sat up and smiled playfully. "Even if I never get paid again and you're stuck with alla my bills?"
"Of course."
"Even if I'm horribly disfigured and I wind up lookin' like the rear end of a Ramador with hemorrhoids?"
"You know I'm not with you for your looks."
"Even if I…" he grinned and gave her hair a tug, "yank on your pigtails?"
"Especially if you yank on my pigtails."
He laughed, and his mischievous grin softened. He bent down and kissed Zoria on the mouth as he lay back down. They parted after a moment, just staring at each other, and Gwizdo gave a contented sigh.
"Thanks, Zoe," he whispered.
She smiled and kissed his nose. "Any time."
Within minutes, she was asleep again. Gwizdo didn't last much longer, but as he clung to those last shreds of consciousness he smiled to himself and entwined his fingers with Zoria's once more. He knew he wouldn't be having that dream again for a very long time.