Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare–anyone affected by such consistent, incessant, traumatic retellings of the horrors of their life were usually doomed to be reduced to a trembling mess. Regardless of status, stature, and wellbeing, even the best could be felled by the fear of their own memories, Pegasus J. Crawford, and his tragic, angry past, included. Again and again the failure to resurrect his Cyndia would haunt him, always preceded by the sudden, tragic death of his beloved.
He would dream of her smile, her hair, her love only to watch her disappear inside the Earth, leaving only a mound of soft soil and roses in memorial. He would dream of how he painfully acquired the Millennium Eye, cursed by the burden that caused him daily pain, despite the plethora of potential and possibility it presented. He would dream of using that power, that potential, that curse to steal the souls of children–children!–to attempt to bring her back, to bring Cyndia back. He was nothing without her, absolutely nothing. He was forlorn.
Outside the land of his nightmares, it was simple enough to put on a smile. He could go about his day as usual. Out and about, he would sign autographs, speak at events, and design cards, among other daily duties. However, when he returned to that big, empty home of his, he sat alone at the head of a long table meant for many. He alone rested in a large bed once meant for two. He alone survived in a massive manor constructed for large soirées.
When Cyndia was alive and well, the two hosted grand parties and banquets with their families that filled the halls of Pegasus' home with people and laughter, with warmth and affection. The many faces of family and friends and partners, were something Pegasus greatly missed. However, they would never be the same without the golden light of the room, the gentle laughter and sweet smile of Cyndia. She made those events what they were. They were happy memories, if nothing else; they were happy memories that were always ruined by the unavoidable, inevitable hours of the night.
Every now and again, he would be made to understand that he was still dwelling in the past, chained to an anchor at the bottom of his own sea of remorse. Even now, so many years after her passing, he could not bring himself to change. Cyndia was his whole world, and he was certain that everything good that remained was buried along with her.
Pegasus was trying his damnedest to avoid sleep, lately, all too afraid of repeating what once was, and what seemed to always be. However, he could only hold off for so long before fading fast into undesirable blackness.
"You have done such horrible things, Pegasus." This voice was painfully familiar. The words were scolding, but the tone was soft, pleasant, almost saddened. Images finally came to be, the figure of a petite blonde with the world's sweetest smile and clearest blue eyes. Cyndia.
Pegasus could feel the tears wetting his cheeks in even reality. "My love…" he whispered, reaching out to her. "I'm sorry…so sorry…" Shaking his head, he apologized, for the first time for everything. Rambling on about all he had done. "I miss you, Cyndia…"
This dream was different from the rest. It felt like release. He poured himself into this vision of his wife. Finally he had her in his grasp, holding her to his form, clutching her, and sobbing, apologizing. Slender fingers ran through his hair, gently stroking his head before taking his face and wiping the tears. That tender smile that he remembered so clearly was a relieving sight. Cyndia caressed the side of Pegasus' face before leaning in and kissing his forehead. "Hush, my love." She murmured. "Stop your fretting and sleep in peace." Pegasus shook his head. He could not. Could he? Without her, who was he?
"You can, Pegasus. I love you." Cyndia gave him that mild smile once more. "And I forgive you."