Author's Note:
This is my first story on this site, so I'm excited and nervous, not to mention that I am learning as I go along.
Now, I have read this through several times, but is you see any mistakes, please tell me and I will change them.
Also, credit for the title of this chapter goes to In This Moment's second album, 'The Dream' (epically amazing). In This Moment are my new favourite band, so their music has, and will, influence this story. Check them out!
Disclaimer time: I do not own CSI: Miami, or any characters in the show. If I did, it would be a completely different show, but we won't go there yet. I own Lucca, and any other original characters which will pop up later on. I also invented the plotline, so if it similar to anyone else's- I'm sorry, but I made this up whilst shovelling tonnes of slate and flint into my parents garden. Sheer hard work.
Now on with story. Hope you enjoy!
The night was humid, and his sheets stuck to him as a leech would stick to its unwitting host. He tossed and turned in his bed, dreams flashing in front of his closed eyes in rapid succession, but none staying for longer than a few minutes. As he murmured in discomfort from the heat, the next dream began.
He knew straight away that this dream was different to the previous ones; he'd been having this same dream semi-frequently for the past ten years. He struggled in desperation to wake up; he didn't want to remember this part of his life, he didn't want to see it again. However, his brain stubbornly refused to stop the flashback, and he ceased his subconscious struggle with his body, giving himself up to the inevitable nightmare.
The six year old Ryan sat in the garden on his bike, staring at the path in front of him with his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. Ignoring the stinging from the grazes on his knees, he thought about his earlier argument with his dad.
'But I can't Daddy' wailed Ryan.
'Can't is not a word Ryan, and crying will not make you learn any quicker. As I told you, if you want to come inside, you will learn to ride your bike. I have taken the stabilisers off for you, so there is no reason why you cannot learn to ride it.' Mr Wolfe replied to his pouting son.
'But I want to go inside. Can't I do it another day?' Ryan pleaded.
Mr Wolfe looked down at his youngest child, saw the fear in his eyes, and sighed. Ryan had always been a quiet child, keeping himself to himself, watching everything around him, and Mr Wolfe knew that Ryan rarely admitted to being afraid or nervous. However, he himself never admitted to fear, and he believed that if parents pandered to their child's fears, then the child would grow up emotionally insecure. And no child of John Wolfe's would grow up to be a pansy boy. So he crouched down to Ryan's height, looked fondly at his son, a mirror of himself, and said softly;
'Ryan, if you want to big boy like all of the other boys, then you have to be able to ride your bike without the stabilisers. And the only way for you to learn is if you have motivation, which I am giving you. So, here is your choice: either you don't come back inside this house until you can ride this bike, or you come inside and I put the stabilisers back on. Which is it?'
Ryan looked hard at the ground and thought carefully. Could he really learn to ride the bike in one afternoon? If he could, then Mom would get him the book he'd been begging for all week. But if he went in, all the boys on the street would laugh at him because he couldn't ride his bike without his stabilisers. He looked back at his dad, and saw that he was deadly serious. Ryan bit his lip and sighed- he knew his dad wouldn't budge on the staying outside part, he was strict like that. Then he had an idea.
'If I learn before Mommy comes home, can we surprise her?'
Mr Wolfe chuckled. His son had a knack at finding a silver lining in every cloud, and would always turn a disadvantageous situation into a beneficial opportunity.
'You got it Ryan.'
Ryan shook hands with his dad and the two grinned at each other like fellow conspirators.
Two hours later, and Ryan could now ride ten metres without falling off. By now he was exhausted, as it was a typical hot Miami summer. His dad came out every so often; leaving snacks and drinks, and would watch, unbeknownst to Ryan, his son's rapid progress and smiling in pride.
Something caught Ryan's eye as he was resting, and he looked across the street to see a car and a removal lorry pull up at the house across the road. He watched as a man and a woman got out of the car, the lady walking up to the house to unlock it. One of the car's back doors opened, and out stumbled a young girl, about a year or so younger than himself. I wonder whether she'll be my friend, mused Ryan. She must have felt his gaze on her as she turned around and waved at him. Ryan blushed and waved back. I wonder whether she can ride her bike properly yet, he thought suddenly. Maybe I can teach her! Then we can ride together. He marvelled at his brilliant plan whilst his dad called him to help make dinner.
The dream switched to a few months later when Ryan had become firm friends with the girl across the road, Lucca Swofford, and his mom had become best friends with Mrs Swofford. Ryan and Lucca quickly became inseparable, despite the year age gap, and not only hung out with each other at school, but after school too.
The dream focused on one particular night; the night that began the eventual end of Ryan's world. The rain lashed down, and Ryan could hear it thudding on the roof. Ryan usually liked the rain- the world always seemed fresher the day after a good downfall of rain, but tonight was different. The distant rumbles of thunder, along with the unusually heavy rain kept the young Ryan awake, as he lay in his bed, tired and afraid the storm which was slowly making its way to Miami.
As he waited for sleep to come, he heard knocking on the front door. Why would anybody be up at this time of night? he thought. Why would anybody even be outside in this weather? He listened as he heard his mom creep downstairs and answer the door. As he strained his ears to hear, he thought he heard someone crying softly, so he decided to make sure his mom was okay.
Treading slowly and quietly so no one would hear him, he hid on the stairs where he had a perfect view into the living room. His mom was placing a hot drink on the coffee table, and Mrs Swofford was sat on the sofa opposite. Beside her was a large bundle of blankets in which Lucca was wrapped in, fast asleep and oblivious to the storm above her.
As soon as he saw her, Ryan ginned and almost sprung from his hiding place to get her to play with him, but then he heard his mom speaking softly to the still sobbing Mrs Swofford. He frowned as he couldn't clearly hear what was being said, and he carefully slid down a few more stairs in order to get closer to the conversation.
Still not able to hear everything, the curious Ryan almost groaned aloud in frustration, but before he could, Mrs Swofford cried out in a muffled sob; "He's a lunatic!" Ryan could only just hear his mom's soft voice speaking calmly to Lucca's mom, but could only make out "...hurt you, would he?"
"Me, yes." came Mrs Swofford's hoarse reply.
Mrs Wolfe looked at her horror, before speaking so gently, Ryan could make out nothing at all, except for "...Lucca?"
Mrs Swofford looks at her sleeping daughter before looking Mrs Wolfe in the eye, and replying with brutal honesty "I honestly don't know what that man is capable of anymore."
Ryan watched as his mom went over to Mrs Swofford, and the two women sat in silence looking at the young girl bundled in blankets between them, both of them completely oblivious to the young boy who was fighting a losing battle against sleep on the foot of the stairs.
The dream eventually released Ryan from its grasp, and his eyes flew open as soon as the last remnants of the final scene faded- his breathing erratic and his eyes whizzing around his room taking everything but seeing nothing. Running a tanned hand through his tousled hair, he mentally berated himself for getting so agitated over a dream which he considered to be a pesky nightmare- it only occurred when he was exhausted, but it always followed the same pattern; first, the 'childhood stage' as he called it, then the 'teen years', and finally, the part he dreaded the most, the nightmare itself: the ending. No fancy name for that one, as it was exactly that- just the end.
Ryan sighed. He already knew that it was going to be a bad day, what with having his sleep pattern broken by memories of his past. He just didn't know how much worse it going to get.