Chapter 1 Dream Weaver

"Dreams can come true...if we have the courage to pursue them." Walt Disney

Denise Williams collapsed in her bed somewhere around two o'clock in the morning. Her husband was away on another business trip and her friends had just left. She had promised it wouldn't get out of hand – just some drinking on a Tuesday night to relieve the boredom but then someone brought the coke and a few lines later, she forgot her promises. She also forgot her niece who had locked herself in her bedroom as soon as the undesirables came into the house. Her niece was a very smart girl and she knew that it was just a matter of time before their friendliness became derogatory and condescending. It seemed the more inebriated they all got, the more they toyed with her like a helpless animal before the kill - making her the butt of their jokes. Her aunt, who should have protected her from such things, stood by while they did this - so the high school freshman ran into her room as soon as she heard them coming. She wondered if the alternative of foster care wasn't better but the courts had awarded her mother's sister guardianship when her parents were killed. For now, there was little she could do.

Now, as Emily slept peacefully in her room, her aunt crawled into her own bed. Denise prayed that she would not have the nightmare again but no matter how much she drank to fall asleep in a stupor, it was always waiting for her. It had been the same dream every night for the past week. She was in a long darkened hallway and at the other end was a woman, dressed all in black. The woman was tall, slender and walked towards her with an air of complete confidence. The black leather coat hung low and swayed to either side as she walked toward Denise in a slow, menacing manner. "I am coming for you Denise," the voice said, and although she didn't know who it was, she tried to scream and run. Each night though, she could never do either. Denise was frozen in her dream as the woman came closer and closer. She could actually feel the air get colder as this woman stood before her. The dark figure towered over her and bent down to whisper the message she uttered every night. "You will beg for my mercy, but I will show you none. You are going to pay for what you've done," the voice said in her ear. She could not make out any features except the sinister smile that revealed white teeth, and the blackest eyes she had ever seen. Frozen with fear, Denise tried to wake herself up, and when she finally did, the sheets were once again tousled and drenched with her sweat. She swore if she had the dream one more time, she'd go to someone who could interpret this for her. She picked up the card of the woman who provided such a service and promised she'd call as soon as she got up. None of it made sense to her – she didn't even know anyone with a British accent.

Myka jumped in her sleep and yelled out Helena's name. HG was lying next to her almost anticipating it. It was the fourth night in a row that Myka had woken up like that. She was having a dream about Helena, but she didn't know what it was because after waking up, in spite of the terror it brought her, she could not remember much. The first night all she could remember was being outside a building and HG was locked inside. The next time she saw Helena dressed all in black. The next night, she started to scream "No!" in her sleep but she didn't know what she was saying it about. It was odd that the same dream kept coming back to her, and she thought about mentioning it to Mrs. Frederic, just as a precaution because not only was it waking her up, it was staying with her throughout the day. She didn't want to worry Helena, who had a tendency to overreact when it came to things that bothered Myka. HG was already losing sleep herself watching over Myka these past few nights.

Even Leena sensed it. She noticed the change in Myka's aura and asked her about it. "Trouble sleeping. Probably the stress at work," Myka offered as the excuse but Leena wasn't buying it. She sensed there was more to it. So did Mrs. Frederic.

HG pulled Pete aside in the hallway that morning. "I'm worried about her, Pete. This is the fourth night in a row she's awoken from a bad dream," she confided in him.

"And you can't think of any way to exhaust her so she sleeps through the night?" he asked making the joke before he thought about it. His memory was jogged sharply when HG grabbed his arm and pain surged up it.

"OK, ok I get it," he said pulling loose. "Wait, I don't get it," Pete admitted as he rubbed his arm.

"Myka is having bad dreams. She says she cannot remember the content….," HG said thinking.

"But she's got that photogenic memory thing," Pete said.

Helena's eyes crinkled at the edges as she realized he was serious. "You mean photographic, but studies have not shown a strong correlation between dream recall and eidetic memory," HG explained.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Pete said lost in the words. "Maybe it's the job. We're all a little stressed out," he offered.

"Are you having disturbing dreams as well?" HG asked with great interest as the scientist in her emerged.

"Yes, actually I am," he said sincerely and HG's ears perked up. Perhaps there was something in the house?

"I keep dreaming I am on a boat going out to sea but there's a storm coming," he started.

"Yes?" HG asked curiously.

"And I know that the storm is going to toss and turn the boat," he continued.

"Yes?" HG asked wondering if she should write this down.

"And I have this strong feeling that I am going to be shipwrecked for months," Pete said now looking upward as he recalled the details. There was tension in his voice.

"And there on the dock stand Olivia Wilde and Jessica Biel!" he said turning to HG.

The Brit frowned unable to get the gist of where the horror lay. "Is it a question of not enough food supply?" HG said seriously, attempting to figure it out.

"It's a question of booty supply. I only can fit one on the boat!" Pete said explaining his dilemma.

His screams could be heard in the dining room where Mrs. Frederic sat with Myka.

It was unusual to find the Keeper seated at the table, but there she was, sipping on her tea in Artie's seat. Mrs. Frederic was never one to rush her agents when it came to matters that they wanted to discuss with her. She was concerned about Myka though because she noticed that she definitely seemed distracted when she saw her. "Everything OK, Agent Bering?" she had asked her the day before but Myka assured her it was. "Maybe being cooped up in the Warehouse," Myka offered as an excuse, and Mrs. Frederic nodded her head in agreement. She knew that the lack of field work was getting to everyone. The last two pings which got them all excited turned out to be false alarms just as they had packed their bags. It was a rehearsal in frustration for them.

Helena burst into the room ahead of the injured party, who was holding his arm in pain.

"You know, HG you oughta try learning to hit like a girl," Pete complained unaware of the guest. HG too, didn't notice and went about getting her tea ignoring the complaints of her fellow agent.

"Good morning everyone," Artie said coming into the room, ready to take his seat which he quickly discovered was occupied. As happy as he was to see Mrs. Frederic, her presence in his seat threw him and he looked around as if he had no idea where to sit. Mrs. Frederic patted the arm of the chair next to him. "Arthur," she said softly as if giving him the answer. That was Myka's seat, but Myka was sitting in Pete's seat and now HG was next to her on the opposite side of where she usually sat and Pete was in HG's seat and Claudia wasn't even there. It was too much for the creature of habit that was Arthur Nielsen. "There will be a memo about this," he said to no one. His frustration built as he sat in the seat that didn't feel right and now the coffee didn't taste good.

"Claudia!" he yelled because he couldn't think of anyone else to yell at. The young agent appeared in the doorway and looked as if the cat had dragged her across town before dragging her in. Her hair was disheveled and sticking out in various directions, she was still in her pajamas that were crumpled and buttoned incorrectly and she dragged her feet forward in her slippers as if she couldn't raise her legs.

"Yikes!" Pete yelled upon seeing her. She ignored him and went to the open seat at the other end of the table and sat. She never saw Mrs. Frederic and immediately put her head down.

"Are you okay?" Myka asked and put her hand on her arm. The last time Claudia looked like this, she had the flu.

"I haven't slept in nights. I keep having dreams," Claudia moaned with her face down on her arm. She lifted her head to see who was staring at her from the other end of the table.

"Oh frack," Claudia said and pulled her robe closed and tried to sit up.

"It's okay, Miss Donovan. It would seem we're all lacking in the sleep department," the Sage said looking at Artie.

It was true, and he should have known better than to try and hide it from her of all people. Now she was staring right at him and he had nowhere to go.

"Well, yeah I haven't been sleeping well but you know it would help if those pipes didn't bang all night. Pete, could you get to them today?" Artie asked trying to get the focus off of the real reason.

"I would, but I'm thinking of filing a Workers Comp claim," he said grabbing his arm and staring at HG.

"What did you do?" Claudia asked Pete.

"Me? She started it!" he responded.

"Did you hit him?" Myka asked HG and all of them forgot under whose watch they were presently.

"A love tap really," HG said dismissing his claim.

"Look at this mark. Does this look like a love tap?" Pete said rolling up his sleeve to show the red mark on his forearm where she had squeezed him. "What is a love tap, anyway?" he asked.

Mrs. Frederic didn't move. Her eyes moved around the table, observing. Artie had put his head in his hands because he could only imagine what his boss would say about this childish display. And this was one of their good days he thought.

"Arthur, a word," she said to him and silence filled the room as they exited. She walked into the hallway before she spoke.

"Your dreams, Arthur. Are they about Agent Wells?" she asked pointedly. He knew better than to even hesitate.

"Yes," he replied.

"Are they waking you up?" she followed.

"Yes," he repeated.

"Yes, mine too," Mrs. Frederic admitted in a rare show of commonality. "Agent Donovan is having them too and so is Pete, but he doesn't remember them yet," she said as she opened the front door.

"Keep an eye on them, Arthur. We must find out why Agent Wells is in our dreams and yet does not seem to be having them herself."

"Did she say that?" Artie asked and then realized to whom he was speaking. "Right."

"And for heaven's sake, Arthur, find something constructive for them to do!" she implored as she left.

If you've made it this far - thanks for reading along. I appreciate any and all comments/questions/suggestions and
thank you in advance for taking the time to do so.