And suddenly things were black. And still. And silent. It took her a few moments to even realize she was lying down. She was on a bed. And this was her bedroom. Slowly it came back to her. Every little detail, collapsing into neatly into a coherent narrative. The intricate web of dream and reality, fact and fiction, tore asunder and fell into their rightful place.
That was the problem with vivid dreams. They invade your space. Make untruths, truths, if only for a few seconds after waking. You never seem to really realize when you're in a nightmare. This insight only ever comes after the dream has ended.
There was a warmth beside her. A living being, a breathing body. It was in that moment that she realized how much of a nightmare it was. Frantically, Mary reached over and placed her body next to his. She needed to feel his heat, to place her palm over his heart, to listen to his breathing.
He was here. He was drawing breath. He was not dead.
He turned around and rolled onto his back. A moment later, he emerged from sleep, opened his eyes, and looked up at her. His eyes focused. But it was the little droplet that landed upon his cheek that confirmed it.
"What's wrong, my darling?" he whispered gently.
He reached up and wiped away the watery trails upon her cheek. She didn't respond immediately. She just wanted him to caress her a bit longer. She then made a promise to herself, she would never take his touch for granted ever again.
"Bad dream?" he asked sympathetically.
"The worst," she replied through her sniffles.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
She simply shook her head and laid it down top on his chest. His heartbeat, upon her ear, a soothing balm.
"Are you sure? You seem rather shook up," he said he gently stroked her hair.
"You were dead," she said.
"Oh… was it during the war?"
"No, even worse. A car accident."
"How did it happen?"
"It doesn't matter." She propped herself up and turned to face him. She needed to see his face. She thought she'd never see it again. "It didn't happen. That's all that matters."
"So, what to do now?" Matthew asked.
"Hold me," Mary said as her voice trembled.
"Of course," he answered.
She turned around to face her side of the bed as he snuggled up and wrapped his arms around her. Oh God, was she really prepared to live a life without this? What a horrible thought. What a horrible dream. Hours passed. She couldn't fall asleep again. She didn't want to go there again. Matthew had fallen asleep again with his arms still wrapped around her.
She turned to face him. He was still there. Thank God.
"My darling."
"My golden one."
A/N: Wrote this while browsing Tumblr last night. Needed to purge my feelings about the finale.