It was the nighttime that he saw her, while the stars were shining, the moon a blazing, the time where the streets were empty, the ruckess lying in wait for morning sun to begin again.
It was a time where he couldn't control what he saw, no matter how many times he had worked himself to the bone so he would fall into a dreamless sleep he saw her over and over walk away from him, from the safety of the car to a new place that would be her tomb.
The dreams were never bad, she would always turn back and say the hell with it, and we'll do it by the book and drive off leaving his mind with in a state of content.
He often dreamed of the life he knew he would have had with her, it was only a matter of time before they would have gotten together again; it was in the stars.
The amazing dreams he had was what haunted him each morning as he awoke in a cold sweat the sheets in knots from his tossing and turning throughout the night; throughout the dreams.
Each dream was different, each dream making him fear the night more so than ever. He never understood why he was being punished with something as sweet as the dreams were, they were laughing in his face with something he would never experience. But he did in his dreams he experienced everything.
In his dreams they were dating, they were getting married and finding out she was pregnant, something that never happened but in his dreams he was happy and every morning he would go back to his dull existence secretly craving an afternoon nap or for it to be night time again.
He found himself slowing fading from reality and remembering the dreams like they were memories, but a look around his apartment brought the harsh reality back time and time again.
Sometimes if he tried hard enough he would reach out and touch her; her image would fade and he would wake up feeling like he'd never sleep at all. He kept to himself these days fearing he would start talking about the dreams like they had really happened when he heard one of the guys talking about his children. They would lock him up for thinking something imaginary existed.
But in his dreams he had baby boy named Michael Maurice, he had his mother's hair and her upturned lips and had his eyes and expressions he would pull from time to time in his dreams.
He had to keep telling himself that they were never real and go on about his day but when he was doing anything to keep his mind away from his nightmares he labeled them because dreams would never end like this. Never make him feel the way he does. They would creep into his mind like a plaque.
He was becoming engulfed in the nightmares he had no way of stopping.
A/N: Man has it been quite a while since I posted in this category, it just kinda came to me while I was taking my dog out and looked up at the sky. Hoped you enjoyed it. I dont own Third Watch - cause if I did, the DVD's would be out already.