Alone, she stood in the midst of a landscape made grey and cloudy with fog that brushed one's face, creeping around trees and buildings, encasing everything in sight. Long, damp grass covered most of her shoes, reaching towards her ankles. Pulling her coat tighter around her as a slight yet chilling breeze swept through, she looked around and realised that she was standing in a cemetery behind an old church, the outside of the building covered with black flint. In front of her was a stone, chipped and cracked, thin fingers of ivy stretched across its face, the grass hiding its base from sight. Taking a step towards it, she pinched an ivy stem with her white gloved hand, pulling it from the stone. It came willingly, though it left its outline on the grey slab. The name on the stone came uncovered, almost worn away by age. First leaning in to read the inscription, she almost immediately reeled back in horror, though the words were already burned into her mind.

Herbert Alfred and then below this, May he rest in peace.

And then she was screaming.

Mary Poppins woke, and it took her a moment to realise that her cheeks were wet. Still in absolute shock from the dream, she reached out instinctively for Bert, and her hand found his. She grasped his hand tightly, wrapping her fingers around his, and this was enough to wake him. Still half asleep, he rubbed his thumb lightly across the back of her hand.

"Bert," she whispered, barely audible, but Bert heard that her voice was thick with tears. Suddenly wide awake, he reached for her and she willingly let him embrace her, loosing herself completely, sobbing against his chest. He'd seen her frightened by nightmares, but never like this. She clung to him like he was the only thing in the world, her hands around his neck, on his shoulders, in his hair.

"Shh-Shh-Shh," he shushed her gently. "It's alrigh', you're safe now. You're righ' 'ere with me, nothin's gonna 'urt you, not while I'm 'ere."

"But what about when you're not here? What about a hundred years from now, when I'm with a new family, sleeping alone, no point to the Tuesdays off, because you're gone? When you're dead and buried, what's to become of me?" she sobbed.

"Mary, that's a long way off, don'-" She sat up abruptly.

"Don't tell me not to think about it, Bert, because I do! Eventually it ~will~ happen!" Neither spoke for a moment, and she dragged her fingers across her cheeks, sniffing.

"Mary," he said cautiously, sitting up slowly. "Was... Was that wot your dream was about?"

Mary had almost pulled herself together, at least in appearance. But as their eyes met, his full of affection and hers full of sorrow, her eyes again filled with tears.

"Mary. Mary, look at me. I will never leave you. Do you believe me?" He turned her face toward him, his palm on her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away her tears. "I will find the secrets of this world, I will bend life itself for you. An' I will make sure that nothin' can ever take me away from you. Do you believe me?" She nodded slowly.

Mary knew that he could do all the things he said he would do, she knew she could keep him with her forever, but she could never ask him to do that. It would be so simple, but she couldn't put that choice upon him. She couldn't allow herself to hope that he might accept.