Author's Note: Another short chapter, sorry. Also, I made some slight changes to the previous chapters, just some minor corrections. On a quick note, Liz isn't a nurse she a veterinary technician and works at a veterinary hospital. It makes more sense that way with the girls' aversion to doctors. Anyway, enjoy and please review!

Thanks Channy, you got this back to me very quickly.

Disclaimer: I do not own True Blood, Robert Pattinson, or Hugh Jackman but I wish I did.

Dream A Little Dream

Chapter 3: Revelations

Cat got into work at her normal time and started her routine, but all through the day her mind kept wandering back to her morning conversation with Liz.

Is Liz right? Is my mystery man really a vampire? Catherine kept thinking about her man all day. Since when did I start thinking about him as mine, that's just insane. I don't even know the man, err vampire, err guy, she thought to herself, finally settling on a nonspecies specific term.

At lunch Catherine went outside like she always did to sit at the picnic table in the back of the diner. She ate her lunch quietly all the while thinking about her mystery guy. Maybe Liz is right, maybe he is a vampire. He's got pale skin, too pale to really be considered fair like I thought, and I never see any scars on him, hm…

When she got home from work, she sat down at the table and looked over the list Liz had started that morning. She wrote the age 27 on it with a question mark next to it, then added light hair to the list. What other defining characteristics are there? Liz came home as Cat continued to ponder.

"So I see you started dinner," chirped Liz, clearly amused by Cat's distractedness.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry. I completely forgot it was my turn," replied Cat, coming out of her reverie.

"It's okay Sis," replied Liz as she leaned over Cat's shoulder to view the list. "I see you've added to it. Nothing definitive though," said Liz with a frown. "Why did you put light hair? Don't you know what color his hair is?"

Cat sighed, "No. I don't know anything about this guy. He's too beat up for me to tell for sure what he looks like. He's always stabbed, ripped, torn, scratched, and red. In all honesty I would say he has red hair because that's the color it appears to be in my dreams. But I get the feeling the only reason why it's red is because of all the blood in it which makes me think it's a light color like blonde or something because I can see all the red. I can't tell what color his eyes are because there's almost always a silver blindfold on him." Cat stopped to think more about what she could tell about him.

Most of the time when she dreamt about him; she experienced everything through his eyes. There were only a few times when she experienced everything separate from him, but that was only when she really focused. Most of the time she just tried to block out the dreams altogether even though she failed miserably at it.

"Well, why don't you go think more about it while I make dinner. It'll take about an hour so I'll let you know when it's ready," said Liz as she forced Cat to exit the kitchen.

Cat didn't say anything as she left; she just went to her desk in her room and set the list in front of her. She turned on her radio to the local rock station and folded her arms on the desk in front of her.

I can't believe I'm actually taking this seriously. There's no way this guy is real and why would I dream about him anyways? Why couldn't I dream about Robert Pattinson or Hugh Jackman or something? Someone I would actually be happy to dream about. Cat yawned and put her head down on her arms. Ugh, I'm so tired. I just want to go to sleep but I don't want to dream. A nice, dreamless sleep would be wonderful right… Catherine was asleep before she could finish her thought.

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Eric was still chained to the table, but the despicable device that they had put on him earlier had been removed. Thank god, thought Eric. His body was beginning to gain its strength back as the sun was slowly setting. I need to think of a way to get out of here and warn the magistrate about the rogue vampire and his minions.

Eric took a look around his prison as he did every time his captors took the blindfold off him and left him drained of strength, power, and blood. He hoped that eventually they would get careless and leave something behind that he could use to get out of the silver chains but he had no such…wait…

There, lying on the instrument table next to him lie a steel ice pick about six inches long. Maybe if he could get the ice pick, he could use it to slowly, unwrap the silver chains from his wrists and ankles.

Gaining as much strength as he could, Eric forced himself to reach out with his right hand to grab the object. As soon as he moved, the silver chains rode up his arm and continued to bite into his flesh.

Eric contained the groan of pain he felt in his throat and forced himself to stretch more. Catherine saw through his eyes what he was trying to do and found herself to be just as determined as Eric to get the ice pick. As he struggled again to reach it, she too struggled with him to grab the object.

As Eric reached out yet again, he felt his strength increase slightly. He arched his body up again in preparation to lunge for the ice pick which was still a good four inches away from him, even as he stretched as far as he could.

Damn, Eric thought. This is the only chance I'll get before they come back. Catherine was just as frustrated as he was, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. Feeling her own strength building, Catherine tensed her body and lunged towards the ice pick again.

Eric's fingers just grasped the ice pick enough to allow him a flimsy grip on it. Despite wanting to pull back and release the strain on his body, he left his body tense and focused on slowly maneuvering the ice pick in his fingers to get a better grip on it. One wrong move and he would drop it and all his hopes would be lost.

Catherine could feel that it was a tetra mount that he goes slowly in bringing the ice pick to him. She concentrated as hard as she could to try to somehow help him with this difficult task.

Eric shifted the tips of his fingers around the ice pick carefully and slowly started pulling it towards him, one miserably painful millimeter at a time. Just as the ice pick was about to touch his palm, Catherine was nudged from the side and her concentration was broken.

Author's Note: Oh, no! Will he drop the ice pick? Will he be able to escape? Please review.