A/N: Hello everyone! Oh, I am so late for this update and I apologize. But what matters is this new chapter, right? ;) (one of the final ones, we are getting there) Hope you enjoy it, and wish you all a good weekend :)

Disclaimer: Same as chapter 1-24.

- Premonition -

It was one of those lazy mornings, simple and candid with nothing too important to tell. The rain outside pounded against the window glass, but there was a stillness in the air, in the mood of those living in this house. Sometimes you just know the skies need to pour and the land needs to be washed, and somehow you relish it like nothing else, knowing that there isn't anything as soothing as the warm comfort of family when the weather outside turns. Knowing that here, in this place, you will be safe from tempest and cold.

Anna found herself enjoying these moments more than anything. A baby laying on her bed, she and Johnny on their bellies looking down at him. The perfect start of day.

'Aw, he's watching you, Johnny,' she spoke softly, fiddling with Reade's chubby fingers, but nothing could break the spell he was in. Johnny was becoming one of his favourite people to study. 'He loves his brother, he does.'

'I'm going to teach him so many things, mummy,' Johnny dreamed aloud, smiling down at the little boy; hands on his chin for support. 'Dad and I were talking the other day and we're going to teach him lots!'

'Oh, I'm sure you will.'

There was a moment of silence then. Just a mother watching two sons bounding without words.

'Mummy,' Johnny turned to her with a frown. 'When will you go back to being our teacher?'

'Oh, I don't know...Reade is still so little.'

'Because we don't like the wick- Miss Jenkins.' He corrected himself before it was too late. Anna didn't like when he talked like that. John, on the other hand, found it hilarious, after all, as he said, every child needs a wicked teacher in his life.

'Miss Jenkins doesn't sound as bad as you all say.' Anna shot Johnny a look but the smile on her lips contradicted her scolding. 'I've spoken to her and she seems nice.'

'But she is bad, I swear. She's nice to you because you are a grown up like her.'

Anna pursed her lips. 'If you don't do anything wrong, keep your voice down and do your work properly, she won't bother you.' Anna reasoned.

'I swear she would anyway,' Johnny decided, certain he was right on this.

She shook her head, knowing too well the speeches children had on the tip of their tongue for these matters. I didn't do anything. I wasn't speaking. It wasn't me. She doesn't like me. Anna could meet a million of them and they would always say the same thing.

'But tell me, have you decided what you want for Christmas?'

'I want a tank!' Johnny replied with a big smile.

'A tank?'

'A war tank. A fake one, of course.'

'A fake war tank…' Anna thought. 'Where can I get you one? I don't think I've ever seen them-'

'I have a magazine in my room with a bunch of 'em. You just have to order it.' Johnny sat up, his eyes filled with excitement. He had been waiting for her to ask him this question, it always happened this way.

'Oh, I see…' Anna chuckled, finding it funny that her son had everything ready for his own present. 'You should show me that magazine then…and that's all? What about the kite? Didn't you want a new one?'

'Yes, but dad said we would build one together. He builds good ones.'

'You just need to stop getting them eaten by trees.' She ran a hand through his blond hair; it needed a haircut soon. Maybe John could do it.

'Yeah…'

'And what's this?' John came in the room in that moment, taking them by surprise. 'Three monkeys on my bed?'

'Three?' Anna looked at her son's, counting. 'You are counting me as a monkey too!?'

'Of course I am!' John said with a chuckle, joining them on the bed.

Johnny giggled. 'You're a monkey too, mummy.'

'Monkey babies come from monkey mothers if you ask me.' John added to his banter, winking at his wife.

'And monkey mothers marry monkey fathers.' Anna eyed him playfully and he couldn't help but agree with her logic.

'So, what were we talking about?' he asked.

'We were talking about building a new kite when the weather improves,' Anna replied.

'Yes! And that I have to be careful not to get it in a tree, like the other three.'

'Oh yes! Maybe I should open a kite shop just for you,' John joked, mussing the boy's hair. 'And what about you?' he turned to Reade then. 'Do you want to fly kites too, little one?'

'I reckon he only wants mummy's milk and good naps at the moment,' Anna giggled. 'But I'm sure when he grows up, he'll love flying kite as much as you two.'

'We'll teach him!' Johnny stated. 'And we'll teach him not to get them in the trees.'

xxxx

'You should come with us! After all, you are in charge of the business, you should know how stuff is done,' Jeph challenged his friend, the tip of his cigarette glued to his lips, the ashes falling to the floor as he spoke.

'I know how it's done, Jeph, please,' John laughed.

'Mind those ashes, boy. I just cleaned the kitchen,' Mrs Bates scolded and Jeph immediately threw the cigarette out of the window.

Done…' he said. 'Come on! Don't you miss the sea? I know you loved sailing when you were a boy, I was there with you!'

'I don't know…' John looked over at Anna, almost as if asking her for permission.

'You decide…' she told him, folding some baby clothes on top of the kitchen table, and trying not to impose herself too much. 'It does look quite windy today.'

'Not too much, we've had worse,' Jeph insisted.

'I have work to do. I have to send last week's records to Mr-'

'Oh come on, John, you spoil sport!'

It took him a moment to decide, but the smell of the salty breeze and the sound of the waves in the distance made him crave it, for reasons he didn't really know how to explain. He had liked sailing yes, but lately he found the comfort of land so much more desiring.

'All right...I'll go,' he said at once, and Jeph clapped his hands together in victory. 'Next time invite me when the weather is good.'

'It's more fun when the weather's bad, and you know it!'

All of the sudden John found himself inside Jeph's boat. The nets filled with fish, seagulls were flying above their heads, the sea in tune with their wishes. The waves crashed against the boats, spilling foam and salt over their faces and clothes. Rough skins marked by wind and sun, knotty hair and calloused hands. John had once dreamed of all this. A life at sea, an ocean of experience. Wife and children waiting at home, praying for a safe return. But he found his place on land instead, and now, he knew that's where he belonged.

'Hold on!'

He heard from one of the other boats, and when he turned around, he saw the waves crashing on them. Fiercely, without mercy. One man fell overboard, the others had to hold on for dear life. He felt a hand on his shoulder then.

'John! Hold on, John! We're going back home, look!' Jeph pointed ahead of them and what John saw was a threatening, dark storm, approaching on the horizon. There was lightning, and the sound of thunder...the sea had turned against them. The waves charged at them, seagulls cried overhead. A friend with two faces; one so kind, another so mortal.

'Turn around, to land! Let's get out of here!'

He didn't know who spoke anymore. One of the boats vanished out of sight, swallowed without mercy.

'Jeph!' John called. 'Turner is gone!'

'Pull 'em out, pull 'em out!'

Turner's men swam as hard as they could, trying to reach for the other boats, but the tide was too strong, pulling them to open sea. It was strange, so very strange. He felt urgency running through his veins, the need to help, to move, but he seemed frozen in time.

'Throw the rope at 'em! Quick, quick! Come on, lads!'

'Jeph, be careful!'

Another wave, higher than their boat, shook them violently. John tried to hold onto the mast with one hand, as he reached out for Jeph with the other, but cold sweat and water made his friend's fingers to slip away from his grasp, and in a second Jeph was out of sight. John cried out his name, and for Phillip and Victor and a couple more, but his strength would succumb when another wave came and rolled the boat within itself. The last thing he would remember was the painful bump of his head against wood, and his lungs beginning to shut down...life slipping away...

It started raining then, but he didn't know that. He was sinking, there were broken pieces of boat around him, men too. Dizzy and confused, he slowly opened his eyes under water, but he didn't have the will to do more than that; there was blood around him, he didn't know it came from his head.

Then, through the deep darkness of the sea, in that place where you can't see beyond, where light begins to fade into a daunting deep blackness, he saw a shadow, darker than the dark, swimming gracefully toward him.

'...the fishermen were at sea, and it came quite suddenly, the sky turning as dark as night and the waves almost as high as the cliffs. Death was certain, really, they knew it and they were ready to take it, but then, they saw it... the blue whale, swimming around them, embracing the storm as if it was nothing….'

And it flashed before him; his life. Only the good things he had lived, the moments he wanted to live a million times more. But here, he found nothing but cold and emptiness and his friends sinking with him. He faced Duncan, the blue whale, swimming so close, looking at him with cold, fierce eyes.

'Wake up, John Bates,' the Whale told him. 'It's not your day to die.'

x

'John?! Wake up!'

He was being shaken the second after, the voice of his wife coming to his ears.

'Anna?' He opened his eyes at one, facing her. 'Anna…'

'You gave me a fright, John.' Anna took a deep breath, hovering over him. 'I thought you wouldn't wake up.' She brought one hand to his forehead, gently wiping some cold sweat away from his brow. 'What's wrong?'

'A nightmare,' he sighed, closing his eyes to her touch. 'A stupid nightmare.'

'Tell me?'

'I...there was a storm and I...I was at sea with them and the storm...it seemed so real.'

'It was only a nightmare,' she assured him. 'Everything's all right.'

'I'm sorry I scared you.'

Anna smiled down at him, her hand travelling back to his chest. 'Do you want water or-'

'No, I want you here with me.' He breathed in, looking deep into her eyes. 'I want you.'

His words made her shiver. The tone had been promising, daring, bold. He held her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles; his look focused on her face.

'I miss you,' John whispered. 'So much. Don't you miss me?'

Her reply wouldn't be words, instead, she kissed him amidst the gentle darkness of the night. The curtains were opened, the sky clear, the moon shining onto the cold, harsh ocean. They were shadows in fiery passion, covered by bedsheets; silent for there was a baby sleeping just across the room. Still, sometimes in silence there's more said, more felt and lived, and between warm hands and sweat and tangled limbs, they loved each other as intensely as before.

'This last month seemed more like a year,' Anna spoke, muffling a cry, as one of John's hand travelled down to where their bodies met.

'It was more...than...a month.' He replied, trying to find the right words to say, but his thoughts were clothed by her own sounds, her own responses, the two of them moving together as one. It wouldn't take long until his thrusts became more and more erratic, his control spilling over the edge. There was only so much a man could take, especially when his wife whispered encouraging words against his skin.

She loved him, she wanted him, he felt so good, he was wonderful. He drove her to the point of no return.

Soon, her body was shaking, and to stop herself from moaning aloud, she wrapped her legs around his middle, her arms over his neck and bit his shoulder as softly as she could process; not soft enough, as they would both find the next day. And for John, his end came not long after hers, giving in to what he had tried to control for sometime now. He muffled his cried against the skin of her neck and into her pillow, and he stayed there, breathing in fabric, hair and sweat for a few seconds before he could mutter the strength he needed to turn over and hold her in his arms.

And now, he laid on his back, Anna's limbs tangled around him and her soft breathing tickling his chest. But not even that soothed him. He would always fall into a sort of an unconscious state after making love, recovering from all the ecstatic sensations they had shared...not tonight.

He looked toward the window, and the sun was still far from rising. The clock showed 4.27. am.

Slowly, he untangled from within her grasp, grabbed the typing machine and paper, and made his way to the kitchen, where he sat at the table. That night he would write all but two of the final pages of his book; those he would leave and return to in one year's time. And when morning came, Anna found him sleeping over his papers; glasses cast aside, a mug of tea that had turned cold. He woke up at once, when she touched his shoulder and piled what he had written as quickly as he could, telling her she would have the chance to read it all soon enough.

She was patient, she said, and in that moment Mrs Bates came in the kitchen ready to make breakfast and start the day.

xxxx

'You should come with us! After all, you're in charge of the business, you should know how stuff is done.' Jeph challenged his friend, the tip of the cigarette glued to his lips and the ashes falling to the floor as he spoke.

'I know how it's done, Jeph, please,' John laughed.

'Mind those ashes, boy. I just cleaned the kitchen,' Mrs Bates scolded and Jeph immediately threw the cigarette out of the window.

'Done…' he said. 'Come on! Don't you miss the sea? I know you loved sailing when you were a boy, I was there with you!'

'I don't know…' John looked over at Anna, almost as if asking her for permission, and for a moment he felt a dizzy feeling of deja-vu taking over. Gosh, he hated when that happened.

'You decide…' she told him, folding some baby clothes on top of the kitchen table, and trying not to impose herself too much. 'It does look quite windy today.'

'Not too much, we've had worse.' Jeph insisted tapping on John's shoulder. 'What's wrong? You're as pale as a maiden.'

'Nothing, it's just…' He looked around, trying to understand why this all sounded so familiar to him, and the bad thing about dreams...premonitions, is that they are easily forgotten. One only remembers it when it happens, and only then, one ties the loose ends. 'I have work to do. I have to send the last counting of fish to Mr-'

'Oh come on, John, you spoil sport!'

'Another day, Jeph. I promise you, when the weather improves I'll go with you.'

His friend shrugged his shoulders, giving in to John's will. 'All right, all right...but you are coming soon, whether you want it or not,' he laughed, tapping John's shoulder once again. 'Better get going before it's too late.'

'Are you all right, John?' Anna asked him, putting the baby clothes away. 'You do look rather pale.'

'I'm having this odd feeling,' he gestured. 'That this day has happened before.'

'I know it won't happen ever again if Jeph keeps coming in my kitchen and spilling those bloody cigarette ashes everywhere.' Mrs Bates rolled her eyes, sweeping some of the remains from the floor. 'Reade wouldn't allow this, he wouldn't.'

Anna smiled at the old woman's words before turning to John again. 'Maybe you dreamed about it.'

And then it hit him. That's exactly what happened. 'That's it! I dreamed about this last night…'

'You did?' Mrs Bates asked, furrowing. 'Now that's odd.'

'Yes, the nightmare I had-'

'You dreamed about a storm and you being at sea when it happened,' Anna reasoned.

'Oh my!' the old woman gasped. 'But then...dreaming of death means life anyway.'

'Yes but...in my dream I went with Jeph, and now I didn't.' John spoke and his mother shrugged her shoulders.

'It's not the same then,' she said, but her John wasn't too sure about that.

'What?' Anna eyed him. 'Since when are you superstitious, Mr Bates?'

'I don't know…I mean, I'm not but then...my dreams, they can be rather revealing sometimes.' He smiled at his wife, remembering the many times he dreamed of her when he was at war. Rather reliving, indeed.

'If it makes you feel better, go after him and tell him not to go, if you can still catch them,' Anna said.

'Should I?'

'If it makes you feel better…'

'Run like the wind and you'll be there before they set to sea,' Mrs Bates chuckled. 'They always take some time preparing the boats and such.'

'All right, I'll do that.' He kissed the top of Anna's head, his mother's cheek, and ran out of the kitchen as fast as he could.

When he arrived at the docks, the fishermen were just setting off to the sea.

'Changed your mind, hm?' Jeph laughed.

'No, I just…' John looked to the horizon. 'Those clouds...the wind. Maybe you shouldn't go? It might storm later.'

Jeph looked at the sky. 'Nonsense. It will hold 'till the morning, and we will be home before the sun sets anyway.'

'Jeph-'

'Gotta go now, there's no time to lose.'

John remained silent watching the men sailing out. What was he to tell them? He had had a nightmare? These men believed in many things; haunted houses, lucky Whales, magic caves and rock...now dreams?

They would learn to do so the hard way.

Next Chapter: In the aftermath...

Thank you for reading :)