Some people claim to have strange dreams. I'm pretty sure mine, though, take the word strange to a whole new level.
I was standing on a pebble beach on an island. I'm not sure of the name, but I know it wasn't Isla Huesos. I was sure of that. Dark waves crashed into gray sand under the dim light. It was already very ominous, but that was made even more so when I glanced down at my necklace. It was black as tar. I looked for the threat and saw my grandmother standing ten feet down the beach from me.
I used to think that a grandmother's appearance couldn't ever come close to being described as scary, but the look I saw on her face was downright terrifying. "Awwww, poor, little, ugly Pierce. So scared and utterly defenseless. This is so sad I almost don't want to hurt you." She pushed out her lower lip and gave me puppy-dog eyes. But if I know my grandmother, nothing about her is sweet and innocent. "It's too bad your handsome boyfriend isn't here to be your hero, huh? Oh, well. I'm sure he'll be able to save you later- when you're in the Underworld. But, of course, by then, you'll be dead."
I shot her a confused look. Wasn't she supposed to be striving to torment John, the death deity of the Underworld? (Not that I was encouraging her to do it.) "But how does that benefit you, besides getting rid of me?" For how scared I was, I was surprised by how even and steady my voice sounded.
She continued with an evil glint in her eyes and a wicked smile. "Oh, darling, you're just a small brushstroke in a large painting. You see, when we're done here, his precious Pierce will be a mangled wreck in the afterlife. John will be able to heal you, I don't doubt that. But first, he'll have to watch you scream and writhe in pain, and he'll be thinking about how close he came to saving you, sparing you the suffering – and, of course, your life. And it will torture him. That's exactly what we want."
"B-but" I stuttered, "I'll get over it, and then he'll be happy. Don't you see? It's no use. He'll be happy in the end!" I repeated frantically, trying to deter her.
"I don't think he'll be able to forget this, Pierce. You're in for a doozy." She started stalking toward me, like a cat might stalk a bird. I felt myself start to shake, literally, in my boots. I knew there was no point in running, so I just closed my eyes and cringed.
From beneath my eyelids, I saw a dark flash of movement. She can't be that close to me already, I thought in horror. I opened one eye cautiously, and was relieved. What I had thought was a vicious Fury, was someone completely different. John.
John, who was standing in front of me, shielding me from the danger that practically radiated off of my grandmother, in a stance that could only be defined as protective. He sent her a glare that could have incinerated a human being into a pile of smoldering ash. As sick as it was, I wished she would spontaneously combust. However, my grandmother was, no matter what other people may think, not a human being. "You'll never touch her," he snarled. Then, in one swift movement, he whipped around and pulled me into his arms, curling his body around mine to hide me from the Fury. In the next second, I blinked, and my grandmother, the dark waves, everything, vanished.
My eyes popped open and I gasped. I wasn't on a beach. I wasn't in my room on Isla Huesos. There were tapestries there, there was a white couch , and a fire was crackling with life in a fireplace. I couldn't be sure of my exact location, though, until I heard a voice say, "Pierce,".
John was next to me in a huge bed. I was in the Underworld. Did that mean I was dead, like the Fury said in my dream? If that was true, shouldn't I be in lots of pain right now? All of these questions swam in my head; I was extremely disoriented.
John saw this and reassured me, "Hey, it's okay." His eyes showed nothing but concern.
"Am I dead?" I wanted clarification.
"What?" John asked, shocked and confused.
"Never mind," I muttered. I didn't want to bother him.
"Pierce, you're not dead. I brought you here," he gently reminded me.
"Oh," I said. Now this all made sense.
"Why did you think you were dead?" he asked, still confused.
"No reason," I lied.
Realization dawned on his face. "This is about the nightmare you were having, isn't it? Pierce, it was just a dream. You're all right." As he said this, he wrapped his arms around me, clutching me to his chest. He sighed when he saw that my expression remained the same. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No, it's nothing."
"It's not nothing if it's upsetting you," he contradicted. "It might help if you tell me."
I remained silent.
He sighed. "Pierce, you can tell me anything. You know that."
"Alright," I complied. I then launched into the story of my dream. I told him every detail, every word. I remembered it vividly. He didn't say a word the whole time, just listened to me. When I got to the part about Grandmother threatening me, his arms tightened around me. I hadn't even realized the rocking motion they were moving in to soothe me. Tears started slowly leaking out when I finished.
"Don't cry, Pierce. You're safe, it's all right. It was just a dream," John said while wiping away my tears, though to no avail.
I didn't say anything; just tried to stop the tears.
He continued to reassure me, "Pierce, I will keep you safe. When you are with me, you'll always be safe. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe here."
In answer, I pressed my face against his (shirtless) hard chest. "Thank you," I whispered. John paused. He tilted my chin up to look at me, or so I thought, and the next thing I knew, his mouth was covering mine in a passionate kiss. My fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled me impossibly close. I guess no one had said those words to him in a long time. It was like he thought that I never let it pass through my mind that he had ever done an ounce of good in his life, and he was rejoicing that I had recognized it.
He pulled away, and I sighed, but he remained close. "Pierce, I love you," he declared. I closed my eyes. One thousand emotions flooded my mind. One of them being shock. I didn't know he loved me. I knew John could love, but I didn't think he loved me. I didn't know how to respond.
When I came to my decision, I slowly opened my eyes to find him anxiously awaiting my answer. "John," I murmured against the quiet, "I'm in love with you."
"Finally," he whispered, and suddenly he was everywhere- his hands in my hair, stroking my cheek, his strong arms around my waist and his lips caressing mine, slowly and sweetly. He stopped for a moment. "I have been waiting for two centuries to hear you say that, Pierce." With that, he pulled me in for another kiss, and the night flew away.