Looking much relieved, the guardsman gave him a friendly smile, "Oh, hello, Lt. Hunter. Isn't it rather late for you to be out and around?"
"Couldn't sleep," he explained, "You wouldn't know if Dr. Slate is still in, would you?"
"Oh, yeah," the man shook his head, "She works way too hard. I can buzz her if you like..."
"Nah, I'll just go on up... if that's okay with you, of course."
"No problem, Lieutenant. You know the way?"
Dwayne grinned, "Sure do. Thanks." Heading down the hall, he paused at the elevator. When the doors opened, he stepped in and punched the button for Dr. Slate's floor.
Getting out, he saw that the entire hall was dark except for a single room. The warm yellow glow spilled out into the hallway invitingly. Dwayne stopped in the doorway, looking around. Dr. Slate sat at her desk with her back to the door, totally oblivious to his presence. Not wanting to take her by surprise, Dwayne cleared his throat.
Spinning around, Erica gasped and put her hand to her chest, definitely startled. It took her only a moment to realize who the intruder was, "Lieutenant! You scared me!"
"Oh... Sorry... Believe it or not, I was trying NOT to..."
She smiled faintly, "You weren't very successful. What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I could ask you the same thing..." he said defensively.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Dr. Slate tapped her foot, "I was working."
"Oh. Right," Dwayne rubbed the back of his neck guiltily, "I... just saw your light on and stopped by..."
"You're dripping..."
"Huh...?" looking down at himself, he muttered a soft curse, "Um... sorry, it's raining outside and..."
"You walked here in the rain?!" Dr. Slate interrupted, "It's cold outside!" Dwayne opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when Erica took his arm and forced him into a seat. "Take off that coat," she insisted, helping him out of the wet garment.
He watched her hang the coat off the back of another chair, "Uh, thanks..."
"Here..." handing him several towels, Erica laid another one about his shoulders, "I keep these around in case of emergencies. Never know when you might need one."
"Thanks..." he repeated.
She paused, studying his face and frowning, "Are you all right? You look exhausted..."
Dwayne shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "It's nothing... I just haven't been sleeping all that well."
Fetching another chair, Dr. Slate sat down near him, "Is something bothering you?"
He somewhat surprised by her question - not because it was unexpected, but because it was correct. Rubbing his hair vigorously with one of the towels, Dwayne answered, "No... No, it's just... I've been having some bad dreams... Nothing big..."
"Nightmares?" she asked, her voice soft.
He froze for an instant and then slowly set the towel back down in his lap, "Something like that..."
Concern shown in her warm brown eyes, "Do you... want to talk about it?"
Taking a deep breath, Dwayne submitted, "I'm... not entirely sure what to say. It's kind of strange... Ever since I got out of the hospital, I keep having the same dream over and over... and it seems so real every time..." he began slowly, "I don't remember everything, but..."
Dr. Slate nodded in encouragement, "Go on..."
"I'm in the Big Guy, and I find myself fighting an enemy I just can't seem to beat. It moves so fast that I can't even get a good look at it. I don't know where it came from or what its trying to do... but I end up chasing it here... to Quark Tower... I saw people getting killed by stray weapon's fire... I tried to grab it, but it tossed me around like a sack of potatoes." Dwayne's face looked stricken as he recalled the dream, "Then I saw... you... You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear you... And then... then..." He broke off abruptly, bowing his head.
"What happened?" Erica asked, gently reaching out to touch his arm.
"You... were killed..." Dwayne said, his voice nearly inaudible, "An incendiary took out the first floor of the tower..." He let out a short, harsh laugh, shaking his head, "As if that wasn't bad enough, I finally got a good look at the person I was fighting..."
Dr. Slate seemed completely absorbed by his words, "Who was it?"
Dwayne looked her straight in the eyes, his mouth drawn into a thin, severe line, "It was me... I was fighting myself... I was killing those people. I killed... you..."
"No," Erica tightened her grip on his arm, "It wasn't YOU. You were trying to save those people. The enemy was someone else... maybe someone who looked like you, but not you."
"Hah. That's pretty funny coming from you considering that I tried to strangle you a couple of weeks ago," he said bitterly.
"But you didn't," she reminded him, "You fought off Number Seven's control. Why are you being so hard on yourself? You shouldn't feel guilty about what happened. It wasn't your fault."
Dwayne ran his fingers through his damp hair and sighed, "I know, I know... I don't know why I keep having this nightmare... I don't even remember what happened. The only things I know is what I was told in the debriefing."
"I suppose such a traumatic experience would have a profound effect on the subconscious if nothing else," she suggested, "You might not consciously remember what happened, but it's possible that you do UNconsciously..."
"I guess that could explain it..." he assented.
Dr. Slate smiled reassuringly, "You shouldn't be worrying about this. The whole point of this vacation is for you to relax."
Raising his head, Dwayne studied her face for a moment before returning her smile, "Thanks... I really appreciate this."
"Yes... well..." Erica stood quickly and turned toward the window. Her face felt warm, and she was certain she was blushing. //How does he do that to me?// "It... it looks like it's stopped raining... I... should be getting home now..." she said awkwardly.
"Uh, yeah... Me too," Dwayne collected the towels, "You... you wouldn't happen to... uh, maybe I could... walk you... home...?"
Erica paused as she was removing her coat from the hook. //Oh, heck, why not?// "Actually... that would be nice."
"Really? Uh... Okay..." trying not to seem too eager, Dwayne put on his still damp coat, "Sounds good..."
Chuckling, Dr. Slate turned off her desk lamp, "Come on. Let's go."
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