Disclaimer: Do you really think I own LXG? I didn't think so.
A/N: Looking back on this after writing it, it occurred to me that somewhere roughly in the middle I went just a slight bit off the original topic. And I interrupted myself in the middle of writing another fic to do this. Strange.
On Dreams and Dreaming
As thought by Tom Sawyer
Sleep is a wonderful thing. It allows us all a much needed respite from the outside world, allows us to momentarily forget all our humanly problems as we slip into the world of the blissful unconscious.
But there are the times when sleep can not save us from the world awake, as nightmares of scenarios both real and fictional plague the mind it its unshielded form. When awake, we as humans have learned over the years how to block out thoughts that we find undesirable, but dreams find no such restriction.
They are the things that we try so hard to ignore, which the subconscious tells us we need to know, to pay attention to. There can be a prophetic nature in the visions, or simply something that we care not to see.
These dreams can haunt us for years, for entire life times, as the case may be. They never go away, a constant reminder of things to come, the way things could be. There is no way to know if the thing we see when we are asleep will ever come to pass, though sometimes they are shadows of things to come. Like Quartermain's death.
Now, that's not to say that I saw the hunter's death prematurely, rather, had the feeling that something of the sort might happen. When you live life the way that I do, it's hard not to think that the people you care about are going to be the ones who are going to pay for your mistakes. Which, I suppose, is something of a fact.
I didn't foresee Quartermain's death, per say, but I knew something was going to happen. I have these dreams, you see, that have been haunting me for some time now. I've killed people, innocent people, simply because of what I do, because I was told they were the "enemy". Because that makes it all right. But it doesn't. It never does.
In these dreams, I see the people I care about most coming to an untimely end because of me. I suppose that's because I've killed so many people's parents, siblings, friends, that it would only make sense to have the same done unto me. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you". I'm not sure where I heard that, but it seems fitting.
I suppose that dreams can be good, now that I think about it. One in particular comes to mind...(1) But, it seems that I will forever be plagued with the memories and the thoughts of the people I killed. It's truly amazing all the games the subconscious likes to play...
Right, and we're back to generic angst! DAMN IT/breathes/ Right, OK, I'm good. Really, I am.
1. Yeah, the other fic I was writing before I started this one consists of the dream that Tom mentions here. If you're interested (it's kinda slightly mushy, but whatever), it's called Toys of the Subconscious.