Thanks again for continuing to read this story. I know there are a lot of questions and hopefully some answers will start to emerge.

Chapter 4: Synchronicity

There were no more visions for Sam that night. After dreaming of Mercedes by the lake, he woke up with his neck and back aching from being hunched over her picture at his desk. So he went to his bedroom and flung himself on his bed, sleeping soundly for the rest of the night until late into the morning.

When he rose, he felt like a new person. It was the first time in months that he had slept so soundly. He went out with Munchies for a brisk jog in the park, and spent some time adjusting his blueprints for work the next day.

He was doing well at not remembering. He was just about to settle on reading an extended newspaper feature on the Large Hadron Collider and what theoretical questions scientists hoped it would answer, when he got a text message from Mike:

Hey Sam! Hope you're feeling better after yesterday. Chloe says hi. We're off to pick Tina from the airport. Let us know if you need anything.

Then it hit him. Mike. Chloe. Chloe's picture… his picture. Then flashes of the lake filled his mind. His dream. How did he forget that?

For the first time in over a year he'd had a different dream. It was still a dream of Mercedes but it was different. He had tried to speak to her, but she was afraid…afraid of him. Why would she be afraid? Sam wondered. He was chasing after her then she fell. She was upset. She didn't appear as the shinning glamorous star he had come to know her as from his recurring visions, she was more withdrawn, lost.

Sam responded to Mike's text.

Feeling much better today thanks. 'Hi' back to Chloe. Got a few minutes for a quick chat?

Sam's phone started buzzing a minute after the text was sent. Sam answered immediately.

"Hey Mike"

"Hey Sam. Glad to hear you're feeling better!"

"Thanks… sorry again about last night"

"Don't mention it... So…er… what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah… do you remember those recurring dreams I told you about a while ago… you know about this woman who's like on the red carpet…about to get shot and I'm like there trying to stop it happening somehow?" Sam felt odd talking to Mike about the dreams again, it was strange the first time he ever did and as much as Mike was always trying to let him know him and Tina were there for him, he was sure this was something that even they didn't really know what to do with.

"Oh yeah…you started having them again?" Mike asked a little concerned.

"Actually… I never stopped."

"Oh…" Mike was silent for a moment and Sam decided to let that news settle "Are you still seeing Dr Pillsbury?"

"Yeah.. yeah I am… but look Mike what I wanted to say was…last night..I had a different dream."

"Oh…wow…ok.."

"I mean its good I think…but"

"What is it?"

"It's still of the same woman…you know… 'Mercedes Jones'…"

"Oh…"

Sam was not sure what to make of Mike's minimal "Oh" responses. He figured he must just be processing what Sam was saying- and to be fair it was a pretty unusual topic of conversation.

"Yeah" Sam said to fill in the long pause.

"So what do you think it means?" Mike asked, suddenly sounding like he was talking to a patient.

"I don't know... I wanted to ask you.." Sam scratched the back of his head and wondered if this was a good idea.

"Well …. I'm not a psychiatrist…but.. maybe Dr Pillsbury might …er..When are you seeing her next?"

Sam could feel things getting awkward as Mike stumbled on his words.

"Um…Thursday…"

"And your sleeping…do you need something to help with that?" Mike was on doctor mode. Sam had known Mike since he'd just started his residency and sometimes it was an automatic response to certain situations.

"Um…no …" It was Sam's turn for minimal responses he sighed and tried to regain control of the conversation "…Actually I slept really well last night… I guess I just wanted to talk it though with someone…"

"Yeah… of course. Yeah that sounds like things are moving in a good direction…but you know I'm not the expert on that so I guess just see what Dr Pillsbury says and you know take it from there…"

"Yeah…ok….yeah…" Sam hesitated before taking his next risk "One more thing... you know Chloe's picture…ok this is going to sound really odd but…"

"What is it?"

"It's crazy but… the butterfly angel princess she drew kind of reminds me of the woman… in my dreams…" Sam worried that he could be crossing some line he shouldn't have.

"Mercedes Jones?" Mike asked seriously.

"Yeah! Crazy right?" Sam said anxious about how his friend was going to respond to this.

"…Wow… some kind of coincidence that is!" Though slightly shaky, Mike seemed to take it ok.

"I know I'm just reading into things now!" Sam decided that he'd got this far he may as well go for it "I mean… she's not like a real person or something.. is she? Maybe you guys somehow knew and just forgot about or something?"

Mike's laugh was a little sudden but a welcome relief for Sam to hear, before he found the words to respond to the improbably wild suggestion.

"Well ...as far as I'm aware Chloe made that picture up all by herself- quite the imagination- gets it from her mom I'd say… Maybe you creative types just go to the same places in your dreams or something" Mike quipped.

"Hah!" Sam smiled "Don't think I don't know about you're creative streak Chang"

"Yeah, Yeah so I like to dance Mr Two Left Feet…" Sam shook his head over the phone as Mike continued "Well speaking of creative…I'd better get going to pick up Tina. The pair of them are excited about putting up the Christmas decorations together… Anyway we'll talk later ok… and I hope things get better …with the …sleep and all"

They said their goodbyes and agreed to catch up soon.

Sam reflected back on his conversation with Mike. Maybe it was just a coincidence and he was just reading into it all.

He looked at the sketch he'd drawn the night before in his sketch book and couldn't help but admire it, admire her.

She seemed so real last night. If she was a real person, he would have worried about why she was so distressed when he'd found her again, why she had been sitting alone by the lake. He would have tried to understand, maybe even to make it better, somehow. But no matter how real she seemed, Mercedes Jones was no more than a dream.

XXXX

She sat on her own, a blanket over her shoulders and eyes glazed, staring out onto the lake. The maple leaves scattered across the path by the wind, the trees mostly bare and lifeless now. She dabbed at the moist spot in the corner of her eye. It was stupid. She knew she should grateful. But how could she possibly embrace life when she felt like she had cheated death?

Leaves stirred in the air, picked up by the sudden increase in the wind speed. The temperature grew colder and the slate coloured clouds above her thickened. She could not go inside yet. She needed to see the rain fall onto the lake, to see that still, lifeless water, reflecting back her own emptiness, disquieted.

So patiently she waited, clutching the blanket around her, sheltered by the marquee, until a deep yet gentle voice grabbed her attention suddenly.

She looked in the direction of its owner but saw no one there, neither to the other side of her behind her or anywhere else.

There was no one there. Her mind was playing tricks on her.

She barely settled back into her thoughts when the voice returned sending her standing upright to attention, as it claimed to recognise her. But still she could see no one there to own it.

It was a male voice, and though gently inquisitive, it was not familiar like her father's or brother's, who she thought it could have been at first coming to urge her back inside given the change in weather.

Then the empty space spoke her name.

"You're Mercedes"

Her spine seized and she gasped in response.

It sounded so real, but there was no one there. She was imagining things. Maybe everything that had happened had finally caught up with her. Her mother had warned her about disappearing into herself, and now here she was finally losing it and hearing voices that were trying to make conversation with her. Enveloped by the blanket, she began to make her way back down the marquee steps, back to the house, somewhere where her mind could be calmed by a wilful distraction.

The voice had other intentions however, it asked her not to go away, it urged her not be afraid. It wanted to talk to her.

"Yeah like I'm going to that" she thought.

Looking behind her she realised how silly it was that she was running away from her own mind. Yet she had to get away. She couldn't allow herself to be affected like this. It was already too real.

Then she tripped. The large blue and white blanket that enveloped her had got caught up in her feet, with her hands wrapped within them there was not much of a chance for her to get her balance.

She tumbled onto the path beside her own startled reflection on the lake, painfully staring at her.

The voice was now concerned and wanted to help her.

She almost wanted to applaud her subconscious for creating such a charming character, if it was not so alarming.

Then she saw it: The image of a blonde white man in the water. He was looking at her reflected image, kneeling near her and holding his hand out.

She looked to her side unsure of what she wanted to see there. But there was no hand reaching out to her, no one crouching towards her, nothing but the chilly air and path leading to where she was sitting a few moments ago.

She looked again onto lake. The man was still there. A reflection without a source. His piercing green eyes concerned, maybe even perplexed looking at her.

It was him.

She couldn't stop the tears falling. Everything she had been holding back all came so suddenly. The memory, the shock, the realisation. The sense that she was losing her grip. And now she sat wondering what it all meant.

Rain finally fell from the threatening clouds above, the cold drops tumbled down suddenly and quickly, obscuring the image on the lake. He was gone now.

"Mercy! What are you still doing out here honey?"

Mercedes looked up, wiping away her tears.

"Mom" she whispered in response to the older woman, who shielded them both with a large umbrella.

"Oh sweetheart… lets get you inside"

XXXX

So our first glance into Mercedes' point of view.

I hope it wasn't too dialogue heavy with Sam and Mike- there are reasons for it but it may still have been drawn out.

The next chapter is on it's way very soon!