Title: Bottle of Lightning and Rain

Series: X

Author: Tiamat's Child

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Angst/Drama

Characters: Fumma, Kamui, Kotori

Pairings: Fumma/Kamui, Fumma/ummmm...Not telling.

Warnings: Well...It gets pretty darn surreal, so...Weird and somewhat disturbing dream imagery. And one very weird pairing.

Disclaimer: Mine, all mine!...The story, anyway. The rest belongs to Clamp.

Summary: Fumma dreams. Set after the Promised Day. Second in the "Getting' There" Series.

Note: This is something that I've never done before and I am *very* unsure about it. I needed to write this out to write the rest of the series though, and now my mental drafts of the rest reference this mercilessly.

Oh yes, please ignore the periods. They are there to make the format work, because it wouldn't otherwise.

Bottle of Lightning and Rain

Tiamat's Child

See I'm rockin' in a cradle

Down the hall somewhere and I am-

Lost inside a dream

Maybe I am falling

Maybe I am flying

But I know if I am crying she is

Holding me

"Ghost Train" Marc Cohn

The flower is dying. It stands in the dust, valiantly striving to stay upright. It hasn't opened yet, and its pale purple petals are curled upwards in a protective bud. I reach out, running one trembling finger down the silky petals.

Without really thinking about it I take the knife I hold in my other hand and draw it carefully across my palm. Blood flows from the wound and sprinkles on the dry earth. The flower takes the fluid greedily, sucking at the proffered moisture.

But it doesn't seem to do any good. The flower withers as I watch, dying before it can be fully born. I reach out to touch it and it crumbles at the slight pressure.

"A pity isn't it?" I twist around, finding the source of the voice in a tall woman hidden completely within her hooded robe. "All that beauty, all that potential, wasted before it could be realized."

"I tried to save it." I told her, somehow feeling that it's important that she know this. She just sighs and says, her voice full of sadness,

"It's not quite good enough I'm afraid. You can't just *try*, you have to actually save it."

"How do I do that?" I ask, desperation tingeing my voice.

"You'll have to find out for yourself. I can't tell you. But," She reaches down and takes the knife from me. "You can't do it by hurting yourself. That will only make things worse, no matter what *he* says." The wind picks up, whipping the cloth of her robe against her body. And then she is gone, a soft "Goodbye" echoing in my ears.

"Hello." I turn and the scenery changes to a terrifyingly clear expanse of black studded with stars. *He* stands there, his smile a terrible mockery of mine.

"You're gone." I tell him, fear freezing at the base of my spine.

"I am, am I?" This person who looks like me and yet is most certainly *not* me, catches my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Then you won't mind If I do this. After all, I'm not real." He smirks and pulls me roughly to him.

And I am

....drowning.

.......................Pain.

................And fear.

...................And helplessness and

.........a demanding

............mouth

...............on mine.

No.

.Hurts.

....Stop!

........Stop, please stop.

But I can't

............make

....the sound come out.

............And I am

...............screaming,

...................I know I am!

......But

......I

...hear

nothing

.............cold

Black water in my

..........lungs and

..........static fizzing,

..............filling

.....up my head.

Who are

...you and

......why?

..........I don't understand.

........Acid

......and

....ice,

..........and I can't

........tell

....which is

...hurting

most.

............Make

..................it

....................stop.

....And reality breaks

apart and

.........slams sharp slivers

............of itself

beneath my skin.

.....And I'm still

.......screaming.

............But there's

..nothing

.........to scream into

..............And

...............then

..................it

....................is

......................black and empty.

Kamui is here. His lips are nipping mine and his small, strong body is pressed close to me. I've never been this close to him before. I've never even allowed myself to day dream about kissing him. Never, never. I wonder why I bothered, this is just about perfect.

I can't think of what happened before. All that is gone now, there's only Kamui. I can't remember anything else. All of me is absorbed in the now. When was the last time I was this happy?

But something is wrong. Something warm and wet and sticky is oozing over my fingers. It's blood, it has to be. Kamui's bleeding.

"You're hurt! I..." I let go of him and pull back. I'm horrified and shocked when I see the extent of his injuries. Blood covers his entire left side and his clothes are torn. In places I can see the white gleam of bone beneath his tattered skin and muscle.

He follows my gaze until his eyes settle on his hands. He idly watches the thin tendrils of red twine around his fingers and slowly drip to the floor. He seems resigned, as if he is used to this.

"Oh. That." He shrugs. "Don't worry about that." He reaches up with his right arm and pulls me down, his lips catching mine in another kiss. "It's my fault anyway."

And I can make no reply. What is there to say?

"Don't cry. Don't cry. It hurts when you cry..." The voice slides from being Kamui's into being Kotori's.

We are sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a dark green sweep of open land down to the sore of a small lake that sparkles in the late afternoon sun like a liquid sapphire. She is next to me, her head resting on my shoulder and her arms enfolding me in a hug. Soft whispers of wind blow across the hill, ruffling the grass.

The place is peace distilled and poured out on the ground. It suits my baby sister perfectly. Somehow I'm sure that this is where she's been.

"I won't cry then, if it makes you sad."

She nods. "It does. And you don't need to cry."

"Why not?"

"Because everything's going be just fine in the end."

"Is it?"

"It is. I've seen it." She smiles calmly up at me. "Just like I saw my death. And I was right that time, so why shouldn't I be right this time?"

"You saw..." I hadn't known that she saw her death. I hadn't known that she *could*.

She gives me a little squeeze within the hug and sits up. "I need you to promise me something."

I nod. "All right."

"Promise me that you won't try to stop loving him." I blink in shocked surprise. She can't mean what I think she does. She can't. I'm sure I hid it better then that. She shakes her head. "It's all right, Brother. It really is. He loves both of us, you see. So it's all right that both of us love him, really it is."

I take a deep breath and ask, my voice shaking. "How did you know that I..."

She smiles a trifle sheepishly and pulls at one of the folds in her skirt, trying to smooth it out. "Being dead gives me a lot of time to think."

"Oh." What else do you say to an announcement like that? For a moment I almost forgot that she was dead.

"You have to promise." She tells me, returning to her original demand. "You gave him to me, now I'm giving him to you."

"Kotori..."

"No! You have to promise!" The last time I can remember seeing her this vehement was when she mad us let her to promise to protect us too. "You have to promise. He needs someone to love him so badly, and I can't be there anymore..."

She's right. And it isn't as if she's making me promise to *tell* him. I can promise her this, at least. She deserves some sort of reassurance.

"I promise. I won't try to make myself stop loving him."

She smiles triumphantly. "Good. Onii-San?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but you have go now. It's time for you to wake up."

"I don't want to leave you alone." This is a lovely place, but my sister needs people and I hate to think of her here with no one to talk to.

"I'm not alone. It's all right. You can't stay."

"I know." And I do, this place is not one meant for me. Not yet, at any rate. But I am still reluctant to leave. "Will I see you again?"

"Maybe. I'll try." She leans in and kisses my forehead. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

...

Dreams are always difficult for me. They exist in an odd twilight world where even people I know well can confuse me completely. I can never understand my dreams once I wake. But I never forget them either.