a/n: Well, the New Girl writing bug has bitten me nice and hard. I was so grateful for the response I got on my last little fic that I decided to write a companion piece…a little longer and in-depth this time.

I thought it would be interesting to see if Nick would feel differently about his and Jess' current situation if he got a peek at what the future held…or could hold Alas, this fic was born.

Enjoy…I'd love to know what you think!

()()()()()
()()()()()

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so deeply.

His limbs were so heavy that they felt attached to the mattress. His head felt like it literally weighed 500 pounds and it took every ounce of strength he possessed to rotate his neck so he could turn his head to one side to rest against the pillow.

How long had he been asleep for? He couldn't remember anything after he'd reached for Jess and finally grabbed her hand. He supposed the simple act had comforted him enough to lull him to sleep but how long had he possibly been out for? It felt like years…

Jess.

He rolled onto his side, fully expecting to see her curled into a ball, still sleeping soundly. But instead the sheets were empty. He ghosted his hand over the space she usually slept in wishing it was still night and that they still laid together. At least in the darkness, in their bed, he could forget the words and issues that had torn them apart. But as the rays of what he assumed were early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, the weight of their decision was suddenly brought back into focus.

He sat up in bed and swung his legs around until his feet came in contact with the hardwood floors.

Wait.

Hardwood floors? The last time he'd checked their loft had polished concrete floors, or at least that's what Jess referred to them as…he just knew they were grey…and shiny…well, sort of. Regardless, he knew what their floors looked like and they definitely weren't hardwood.

He ran his hand against the scruff on his jaw and then let his hand travel up his face to rub at his eyes. He blinked a few times and then opened his eyes wide, letting the room come into view.

He could feel his mouth tilt into what Jess always referred to as 'turtle face'. He turned his head slowly and took in his surroundings for the first time since he'd woken up. It was different. It was all different. In fact, it didn't look much like their room at all.

Jess.

He ran his hands over his face again. He knew yesterday was pretty much a blur, but he was pretty sure he would have remembered all new furniture and he's positive he would've had a comment about the overall floral-ness of the bedspread.

He reached for his dad's old pocket watch, which he always kept on the nightstand, but froze his movements before he had the chance to flip it open. His eyes went immediately to the small picture frame that he had never seen before. As he studied the photograph inside the frame he felt his body begin to grow lax. He felt his grip on the pocket watch loosen and barely noticed as it slipped from his hand and bounced against the floor.

It was a picture of him and Jess; one he hadn't seen before. He supposed they looked mostly the way they usually did. Her hair was in long, loose ways, bangs trimmed neatly to fall against her eyebrows and her signature glasses perched upon her nose. He looked like he could've used a haircut and a shave, which really wasn't anything new, but, it was how they posed that was like a punch right to his gut.

They were in a park somewhere, walking down a partially shaded trail. Jess had her head thrown back in laughter; her nose scrunched up just the way he liked. A wide smile was across her face. His face was turned in her direction and he was laughing too, although he wasn't sure if it had been something she'd said or just the sight of her laughing that made him react in that way.

But it was what was between them…

Between them stood a little boy who was two, maybe three, at the oldest. He had a mop of sandy brown hair and wore a tiny flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark jeans, and black Chuck Taylor's. He hands were tucked into his and Jess' and he glared directly at the camera with his eyes wide and one of his eyebrows hooked upwards, a slight hint of annoyance on his face. The little boy's eyes were captivating. They were easily his most distinctive feature.

Nick had only seen those eyes once before in his life…

Jess.

What the hell was going on?

()()()()()

He stumbled to the door of the unfamiliar room and swung it open. Instead of Schmidt's bedroom door coming into sight he was greeted by a short hallway and a wall covered in picture frames.

He walked slowly past the photographs. Each was filled with a picture of the same little boy who had been in the photograph of him and Jess on the nightstand. There were baby pictures that highlighted his round blue eyes, pictures of him playing, pictures both casual and posed. Nick wasn't sure who this kid was, but it was very obvious that he was well loved.

He was just about to call out for Jess, hopeful that she could shed some light on what had become an increasingly irritating situation, when he noticed the little boy from the pictures sitting at the end of the hallway, his knees drawn to his chest. Maybe they were babysitting him or something and he'd forgotten that they were supposed to? It didn't explain the pictures or the strange place he'd woken up, but maybe one of Jess' friends had a kid he didn't remember? He was reaching, he knew that, but he was desperate for any sort of explanation.

At the exact moment he opened his mouth to try and yell for Jess again the little boy turned his attention in Nick's direction. Those eyes came in contact with his and he just froze.

"What…who…what?"

The little boy ignored his stuttering, and lifted his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Nick chose to listen and his mouth flapped shut. He sank onto the floor beside the child and pulled his own knees to his chest.

"Why are we being so quiet?"

The little boy turned his blue eyes on him again. "I'm hiding from Mommy."

Mommy?

"Are you lost?" Nick whispered. The child shook his head. "Am I lost?"

The child rolled his eyes.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Hank."

Hank. Nick made a turtle face and bobbed his head slightly. He liked the name Hank…it was a good, solid, non- fussy name. It was the name of someone who wouldn't get teased on the playground. He mentally commended the child's parents for giving him a socially acceptable name, plus sounding like a cowboy was instantly cool.

"Hi Hank. I'm Nick." He hesitated for a beat. "Do you know who I am?"

The child sighed and his lips turned downwards into a mini turtle face. "Of course I do. I'm four…not stupid." Hank's blue eyes blinked slowly. "But it's ok if you don't know who I am. You might never know me."

The child spoke in riddles.

"Um…I'm sitting right beside you. I know you now."

"You're having a dream."

Huh? A dream. He hadn't even considered that a possibility. At least things sort of made sense now. Although, did people in your dreams ever inform you that you were, in fact, dreaming? He shrugged, anything went in a dream he supposed.

A dream.

It was all a dream.

Ok, sure. He could handle that.

"Well, no offense, kid, but I don't know why you're in my dream."

Hank propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. "Mommy tells you all the time to pay attention and now I know why."

Nick huffed out a breath. "I don't know who this "Mommy" is but she sounds like she has lots of opinions about someone she doesn't even know."

"Henry Day!"

The voice of a new person, female, echoed down the hallway. Hank let his legs fall so they stretched out in front of him. "Full name," he sighed. "I have to go."

Before Nick could ask him any more questions about this very realistic dream the little boy stood up, brushed his jeans off, and started to walk down the hallway.

Hank looked over his shoulder in Nick's direction. "Are you coming?"

"Why should I come?"

Hank smiled at him. "So you can you see everything you'll lose."

()()()()()

Nick was too stunned to speak so he just followed Hank silently down the hallway. He processed his thoughts as they walked.

None of this was real; it was all a dream. Well at least that explained the house he wasn't familiar with, the pictures of a child he didn't know, and the overall weirdness of the situation. But it was what Hank had said that stuck out to him more than anything else. This dream was supposed to show him everything he'd lose. What did that even mean?

They rounded the corner and were in the center of the house. It was an open floor plan with a sitting area to the left, a dining room table in the middle, and a kitchen to the right. A staircase sat at the edge of the kitchen and wound upwards to what he assumed was a second floor. The house felt warm. He wasn't sure if it was because of the sunlight that filtered in through the windows or because it felt like a lived-in family home. Either way, it was an inviting place.

His eyes bounced from the television that hung over the fireplace, to the bowl of lemons that sat in the middle of the table, to the brunette woman who stood behind the kitchen's apron sink. For a dream, everything seemed a little too real.

Hank slid across the hardwood floors in his socks in the direction of the kitchen. He pulled out one of the barstools that stood on one side of the kitchen's center island and then climbed up onto the stone countertop, dangling his legs over the edge.

"Henry Day Miller if I turn around and see you sitting on the counter you don't even want to know how you'll be spending the rest of your Sunday."

The warning came from the woman at the sink. Just as she turned off the water and went to turn around, Hank jumped off the counter and instead leaned against the island casually. Nick kept his mouth shut.

"I was just standing here, Mom," he said casually.

Mom. The person who Hank had just referred to as Mom, the person who had just referred to the child as Henry Day Miller, was Jess. Jessica Day. His Jess.

Nick could feel the wheels in his head turning. The dream. The little boy with Jess' blue eyes. The strange house. The fact that he called her mom. Learning that Hank's full name was Henry Day Miller.

Hank had told him that he wanted to show him everything he would lose and it suddenly made sense (well, as much sense as a dream could make).

The fight. The breakup. The disbandment of their future. They had fought over what they expected out of each other and their philosophies on a million different things. Everything had ended even though he hadn't wanted it to.

This was his chance. This was what he would get if he could just get his shit together, learn to compromise, and just trust his heart instead of his head. His head was always telling him a million reasons why he couldn't do something or why he shouldn't. He worried about things that shouldn't even be an issue until they were an issue and it took his focus away from the only thing that ever really mattered to him.

Jess.

She looked even prettier in his dream than he remembered. Her hair was in a ponytail and her glasses were on her nose, only slightly different from the ones he was used to seeing her wear. She was wearing jeans, a red tank top, and yellow rubber gloves. Her feet were bare.

She smiled in his direction and peeled the gloves from her hands. "Morning. Hank wake you up?"

Nick ran his hand over his hair, only mildly weirded out. Was she aware this was a dream too? As if he could hear Nick's thoughts, Hank quickly shook his head and grasped his hands behind his back.

Ok, that was a no.

"Uh, yeah I guess he did. I, uh, heard him playing in the hallway."

Jess walked in the direction of the child and ruffled his hair. "What did I tell you about letting Daddy sleep on the nights he works late? I know you miss your pal, but Dad works hard and we have to let him get some rest, buddy."

Nick felt like he was going to simultaneously throw up and have a heart attack. Jess had just referred to him as 'Daddy' in a completely non-joking, serious way. Even though he was now fully aware that he was dreaming it didn't change the shock value at all.

He was someone's dad. He was Hank's dad. He and Jess had a son. Together. His chest tightened. Well, they would if they were able to fix the things that had torn them apart.

Jess shot an apologetic glance in Nick's direction. "Hank, I think you need to apologize to Dad and then go out onto the porch and play for awhile so he can have his breakfast and wake up a bit."

"But we're supposed to go to the baseball game today! The Cubs are playing," Hank shrieked, his voice growing more dramatic towards the end of his outburst.

Nick smiled. Hank was a Cubs fan. Apparently Dream Nick had taught his kid well.

Jess crouched down so she was at eye-level with Hank. It was completely surreal for Nick to see the two of them together. The more he thought about it the more he realized how much the little boy was the perfect blend of both of them. He obviously had Jess' eyes but his shaggy light brown looked a lot like Nick's had when he was young. Luckily he had inherited Jess' button nose and overall expressiveness, but he had been unfortunately blessed with the turtle face.

Nick instantly loved him.

"We're still going to go to the baseball game," Jess reassured. "It's only 8:30 in the morning…we've still got a few hours."

Hank seemed to accept this explanation and ran off in the direction of the front door, but not before he gave a meaningful glace in his direction. Nick just nodded, silently understanding the message Dream Nick's four-year-old was attempting to convey.

This was a dream.

Just as the door opened and then banged shut he felt Jess come up beside him and wrap her arms around his waist. He lifted his arm and slung it around her shoulders, an instinct after having done it so many times. It felt good to hold her again.

He turned his head into hers and his lips brushed against her hair as he spoke. "He's amazing."

Jess chuckled low in her throat. "That's the last thing I expected you to say after five hours of sleep, but, for the most, I agree with you. We did good, Miller."

She patted him twice on the stomach and then went to pull away from him. Nick tightened his arm around her and rotated her slightly so he could press his lips against hers. He didn't get to do this anymore in their reality so he was definitely going to take full advantage of the dream and kiss her just because he could.

He moved his lips more incessantly against hers until he heard her sigh and felt her run her hands up his back. He held onto her tightly and sucked her lower lip into his mouth. He wanted to fix things just so he wouldn't forget how good to felt to kiss her. How could he have even thought about giving that up so easily?

Jess pulled away from him and rested her forehead against his mouth. "What was that for?"

He kissed her forehead and ran his hands up her arms to cup her face. "I just love you," he whispered. "That's all."

She laughed at him and then shoved him out of the way. "I love you too, Miller. Always have, always will. Now sit down and let me make you some eggs. If we're going to keep Hank entertained all afternoon at the game then you'll need some sustenance."

He wordlessly followed her instructions and slid onto one of the barstools. He found himself smiling at her as she busied herself with his breakfast.

Nick felt his heart expand in his chest. They were in-love. They had a son. They could make it work.

No. He would make it work.

()()()()()

It was dusk when they returned home from the baseball game.

It had been the single best day of his life.

He had sat at the counter that morning for longer than necessary. After he'd scoured the local paper and learned it was seven (!) years in the future and the Cubs were actually (!) in the midst of a pennant run he'd stumbled upon photo albums that Jess kept on a bookshelf near the kitchen. He had poured over pictures from their wedding (about 14 months before Hank had been born) and chronicled the various stages of Jess' pregnancy.

He'd learned about every major milestone in Hank's life through the photographs…including all the things that had caused the current disagreement between himself and Jess.

There were pictures from Christmas morning; Hank sitting on a pre-assembled tricycle; Hank ripping open an elaborate train set; He and Hank piecing the track together so it ran in an elaborate design through the kitchen.

There were pictures from Hank's first day of preschool; Hank standing outside a building with a big, bright sign that read 'Happy Hearts Learning Academy'; He and Jess crouched down with Hank enveloped in their arms, tears on both of their faces' Hank bravely waving goodbye as a teacher lead him into the building.

He would have sat and looked at photographs of their life for the entire day because the more he saw the more he wanted to experience it all. Watching Hank, and Jess with Hank, made him realize that all the stupid stuff they had fought over didn't even matter. Now that he knew Hank existed (or could exist) the only that mattered was keeping him happy. If the little glimpses he'd gotten into their life were any indication than he figured it was safe to say they would all be happy.

Nick and Jess sat on the porch swing with Hank nestled between them. They were all still dressed in their Cubs gear and Hank had his head pressed against Jess' breast, nodding on and off in sheer exhaustion.

It had made Nick's heart soar to see how excited his son had been at the baseball game. He cheered and hollered at the players for the full nine innings and when the Cubs had won he had been more elated than anyone (and that said a lot considering how long Nick had waited to see the Cubs be successful).

Plus, seeing Jess in a Cubs jersey that offered glimpses of her smooth stomach every time she raised her arms to cheer at the game (his Jess…a baseball fan, who would have thought?) wasn't a bad thing either.

He didn't want the day to end but he knew, as he watched his little boy sleep against his mother, that this dream would soon be over. But it had been enough. He was now prepared to do anything in his power to make sure that this dream became a reality. It would be so good…so simple…and he would make her see.

"Whatcha thinking about, cowboy?" Jess whispered, nudging his leg with her foot.

He smiled in her direction and lifted his arm to rest against the back of the swing; his fingers twisted idly against her hair.

"It was such a fun day," he replied lamely, unable to wipe the bright smile off of his face.

Jess grinned back at him. "It really was. I can't remember the last time I saw the two of you have so much fun. I thought today would end much differently after Hank woke you up. You didn't get home until after three."

That was another thing he'd learned during his brief stay in Dream Nick's world…he was successful. He wasn't a lawyer, still a bartender actually, but he owned a small, whiskey oriented, hole-in-the-wall near the home that he and Jess owned (!) in the Highland Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. The bar, called Walt & Bob's after his and Jess' dads, was popular and had been designated trendy by the editor of some magazine he had never heard off. Regardless, he'd accomplished something. His life had direction. And seeing how proud of him Jess was ignited a fire in him that he hadn't even known he wanted.

"I'll sleep in tomorrow," Nick whispered, not wanting to wake Hank, who had started to snore.

"We should probably get him into bed."

Nick pulled the child away from Jess and lifted him into his arms. "Let me."

()()()()()

Having left Jess on the porch, Nick settled Hank into this plaid-covered twin sized bed. He unbuttoned Hank's tiny Cubs jersey, letting him sleep in his undershirt, and replaced his jeans with a pair of pajama pants. He pulled the blankets up to Hank's shoulders and smoothed back his hair with his free hand.

Nick had never really been around kids, other than his nieces and nephews on occasion, so no one was more surprised than he was to learn how natural everything felt. Taking care of Hank was easy, instinctual even. His confidence only continued to grow as the hours ticked by.

He had just stood up and was prepared to make his way back to Jess when he heard the blankets rustle. "Dad?" A small voice asked.

Nick turned to see Hank sitting up in bed, his hair already sticking up messily in the back. "Yeah, buddy?"

"You're a really good dad," he whispered. "I hope you get to know me…but for real next time."

Nick tried to ignore the burning in his eyes. There was no way he was going to cry. "I hope that too, pal. Thanks for an awesome day."

Hank smiled at him and then laid back down and rolled onto his side.

As Nick closed the door and ventured back into the hallway he was torn. Part of him never wanted to wake up from the future he was mysteriously visiting, while the other part wanted nothing more than to hurry back to the life he had to fix.

()()()()()

A few hours later he laid in bed with Jess, ghosting his fingertips over her bare skin. He had been very happy to discover that Dream Nick and Jess had a very healthy sex life and he hadn't wasted any time in experiencing that.

But now she was curled in his arms, her legs entwined with his, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so complete. He was hit with the overwhelming urge, once again, to get back to reality and make everything right.

"You're sleepy," she whispered, more of a statement than a question. "You can go to bed, you know. I promise I won't mind."

He leaned into her further and pressed his lips against the patch of skin beneath her ear that one of his favorite spots on her body. "Can't. You're too pretty to look at. If I close my eyes I can't see you."

She chuckled and her hand pulled at his hip, pulling him suggestively against her. "I know for a fact that's not true. I haunt your dreams every night, Nicholas Miller. I won't believe otherwise."

Jess pressed her lips desperately against his and for a few seconds he let himself get lost in the kiss. He tangled his fingers in her hair and tilted her head to the side so he could kiss her even deeper. He didn't know when he'd have the chance to do that again, although he was prepared to do everything in his power to make sure it was sooner rather than later.

Jess pecked at his lips one last time and then rolled onto her side. She switched on the small, bedside lamp, and grabbed a book. "Go to sleep, babe. We'll be here when you wake up."

He reached for her hand underneath the covers. He knew for a fact that wasn't true but he knew, if he could get things right, he would wake up to them, both of them, eventually.

()()()()()

Nick woke with a start. His eyes immediately blinked open and after a few, brief seconds he realized he was in complete darkness.

He glanced over at the alarm clock and then over his shoulder. Jess laid in the bed beside him, turned onto her side, facing the opposite direction.

Quietly, he sat up and then swung his legs around to wear they came into contact with the concrete he usually expected. Sadness crept into his heart as he made his way to the door and swung it open.

Right across the hallway was Schmidt's closed bedroom door.

He turned his head to the left and saw the front door to the loft. He turned his head to the right and saw the darkness that contained their living room and kitchen.

He had woken up. Everything was back to normal.

Well, everything except for Nick. He knew he would never breathe a word of this dream to anyone, well maybe Jess, someday, when his dream became their reality. But he was different now. He had a purpose and goals, no matter how unlikely he'd realized them.

He stepped silently back into their room and shut the door behind him. He walked quietly back towards the bed and sank back onto the mattress. He looked in Jess' direction, remembering what she'd been like in their future, and hesitated for only a minute before laying down next to her. He moved behind her and pressed himself against her body. He settled his chin against the back of her shoulder and breathed in the scent of her hair. This was where he belonged.

He traced his fingers over her hip and pulled her against him. "I'm in-love with you," he whispered against her ear.

She didn't respond, he hadn't expected her to, but she shifted slightly in his arms and pulled his arm tighter around her. He wasn't sure if her movement was done subconsciously or deliberately. He didn't care.

They would be alright.

()()()()()
()()()()()

a/n: Hope you all enjoyed! I'm considering writing a similar dream from Jess' perspective if you guys are interested. I thought it might be interesting to see how she would react to Daddy!Nick…

Thanks again for reading!