But of course the screaming was hisown. It was dark outside, but somehow Rae was there, concern written once again into her face, his favorite book.
"Rae, how did you get here?" He asked.
"My ride had to drop me off early."
"Early? What time is it?"
"It's Goin' on like Four AM. Go back to sleep Jack."
"I.. can't. I have these nightmares And… I guess… I'm afraid of whatever horrible thing I did that I'm just gonna end up seeing next."
She looked confused.
"I—I dream about what I did on the Island. The murders and the hunts and betrayals and one day I—I'll be able to tell you everything but not right now." He admitted, indignant.
"Really? And you can't sleep?" she asked, "well… what if I… h-helllll-held you?" she forced out the word "held" and looked away.
He lightly grabbed her arm. "Please, Rae."
He moved over to make room for her, and she laid down next to him. She faced his back and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his neck. And it all felt so simple, pure, clean, and… innocent. And he didn't want to mess it up. And he didn't have to fight the Chief for dominance because he HAD the dominance. Because he was in charge of himself. Finally. And he slept. And he didn't have a nightmare. He dreamt:
Angelic voices sand out, ringing like bells. The highest voice, and most recognizable, was his own. He was blinded (as usual) by the elaborate lighting. He could hear Simon next to him, his voice the most angelic and the most pure of all of them. It paralleled his role on the Island. The only good, pure thing there was.
The song ended and the boys filed off of the stage, following Jack, the head-of-the-choir. He looked around, subconsciously, for Rae. Where was she? She was so unpredictable. There was an empty seat, belonging to Rae, next to Roger's mother. Even in his dream he wanted to be with her.
They walked to the changing room and changed back out of cloaks and hambone frills. And he still couldn't find her.