XXV. The Dream

Every single thing we do. Every truth, every lie, every yes or no: all of it is part of the bigger whole: Our entire story. Even then, it is only a small part in the vast and rather incompressible plan of Fate. Whether man creates his own or if it is created for him is not really known. Perhaps, we do. Or maybe our life is decided centuries before our lives come into question. Most tend to think of existence as somewhere in the middle of these two options. Where we are given choices, but the plans for the outcome have already been laid down, patented, and copywriten.

There are so many possibilities it makes a person's head spin. Good, evil. Black, white. Angel, devil. Night, day. War, peace. Freedom or slave. It's easy to think in two dimensional terms, it is safer, it's simpler. There is either right or wrong. Unfortunately, most of reality lies in the in-between. In the Gray. And with this realization, comes the loss of innocence and the violent shove into the 'grown up' world.

For some, it is too much. And the un-bearableness of it all results in the early termination of their life, and the end of other's.

Another possibility, weak and strong.

No one is truly sure how one's measure it taken. Or how an individual will stand up to their future. Especially when their Destiny is not set in stone, but rather in wet clay. Only being semi permanent, with more control over their Fate than others could ever hope of receiving in one thousand lifetimes.

Everyone is given a test in their proper time.

But who decides if we pass or fail?

How do we know when it has come?

A man once told me would find out at the end of the journey called life. When whatever usefulness we have to this world is done with, then the 'powers' would tell us of the outcome. He forgot to include the souls, like us, who have not left Earth for thousands of years: the protectors of the planet, and it's destroyers. I mean, how could it apply to my borthers-at-arms and myself? When our work is never-ending.

There is a Hindu myth that says that, somewhere, there is a great god slowly blinking his eyes. Every time he closes his eyes the universe is destroyed, and upon their re-opening a new universe is created. To start from the beginning again. I kind of like that idea. It gives people like me a second chance.

But, for some reason, the story, Fate, has yet to change. Maybe we haven't gotten it quite right yet. It is impossible to tell.

Until, and if, we are ever told:

We might as well enjoy the more interesting parts.

-Last words spoken by Iceani to Jake McCartey in response to the question: "Why?"

* * * *

Bruno Dante watched Detectives Pezzini and McCartey pour over something that had been delivered to them a few minutes ago. They knew their killer's name now. He had called Irons, he didn't know if this would set their plans back, or ruin them completely. Irons told him not to worry. It was almost time, and Mollard was in place. He had a high chance of getting the job done. Irons only concern was the interference of some kid . . . he couldn't remember how to say his name.

Bruno didn't care, as long as that bitch became another crime statistic he would be happy. He did whatever he could to piss her off anyway. From purposely saying her last name wrong to making sure she couldn't find the sugar for her coffee in the morning. If it pissed her off it made him smile. He had Orlinsky and some of his other troops in on it too. But she and McCartey had been too busy as of late for him to be able to bother with having fun.

He had to act concerned about this case of theirs. Hopefully, McCartey wouldn't be too damaged after this was over. He'd get over Pezzini. Dante had plans for the boy, if he was alive.

It looked like they had found something, Pezzini picked up the phone and began to talk to someone. McCartey still had his back to him. That was, until his head shot up and he snapped around to meet Dante's eyes.

"Okay, that was freaky." He mumbled under his breath and turned away from his window.

He settled back down in his chair and began to finish off his paperwork. He smirked, it didn't matter. No manner of preparation would save her ass at this point. It would take a small miracle.

Dante eyed his phone.

With her luck, who knew.

Just in case.

He picked up is cell phone and stated to gather his best hit men, just in case she did she was still breathing by the end of the week.

* * * *

Somewhere in Manhattan, Date Seiji regained consciousness. He furrowed his brows in an attempt to force the head ache that had immediately followed his conversation with Sara Pezzini to go away. This was so stupid! He should never have been in this position in the first place.

He hated being this weak of mind. It was a pain the ass.

He stood up and rolled the kinks out of his neck. He tugged at the chains around his wrists. He could move around a small portion of the room. The cuffs had no locks, if they did he would have unlocked them a long time ago. How the hell did they get welded shut anyway?! From now on he would stay away from New York unless he absolutely had to come here. Another pull at the chains caused the room to shake. Well, at least he was coming back physically faster than mentally

There was something he hadn't tried yet. A sharp stab of pain ran through his head. So much for trying to move them with his mind. Once he found out what drugs had been injected into his system, he would make a note to loathe them for the rest of human history. Maybe even a little after that, for good measure. He hated medicine. Except aspirin, that was a god send.

This was so boring.

Seiji hoped that Detective Woo had kept his promise, unless Pezzini had spoken to Jake. If she remembered enough about him, McCartey could have very well confirmed his being real without Woo having to do so.

How much would she remember? At the moment, he really couldn't tell. Once he was able to summon his armor, he could heal himself. That could wait, it wasn't as if he couldn't take care of himself without it. Some of his enemies in the past would rather had faced him in Halo that without it.

All he could really do was wait. He was good at that, normally Seiji was extremely patient. But everyone had their limits. He was tired of being held here. He was sick of all the hidden agendas going on. He didn't like that someone out there thought this was a game. He didn't know who, but if he ever found out they would meet his fist up close and personal.

It took a lot to get Seiji angry. This wasn't a typical way of thinking for him. He was always the calm one, the rational one. Well fuck that, he was human and a teenager. Maybe it was Sirous' mood influencing him, but he didn't really care.

Seiji spun around and punched the concrete wall. He didn't take much notice of the blood dripping off of his hand. At the moment he was staring at the huge spider web shaped break that consumed most of the side wall. That was all good and well, but it didn't help him. He was attached to a reinforced steel wall.

What pissed him off was: if he had been at full strength, that would never had made a difference.

* * * *

"Where did he go?"

"He went to pick something up from the forensics lab, Danny. I get to sit here and wait for the phone to ring."

"Just wondering, Pez."

Danny Woo watched his ex-partner sit by the phone. She would look up every time a door opened. She had it bad for McCartey, didn't she?

"I'm supposed to tell you you didn't have a dream, and that it was real. But you already know that."

"Then why say anything?"

"I promised Seiji that I would."

"I still don't understand how he could talk to you."

"Neither do I, but it happened. Maybe it was talk to the dead guy night or something."

She rolled her eyes at him. Another door opened in the main room, Sara stretched to see if it was Jake.

"It's not him."

"I can see that."

" . . . you know that he-"

"He told me, Danny. I know."

"You happy about it? He didn't have the best timing on that, I take it."

"Well, his timing does suck. It makes things . . . if it were after this case is taken care of, I think I might have responded better."

"Maybe he told you because-"

"I don't want to think about that! Even if we weren't together, I would want us both to come out of this alive. I almost wish that Seiji didn't tell me that there is a huge chance that we both die. I mean, there's always that chance in our line of work. You know that, but . . ."

"You don't want to go like that."

"Yeah. Not when I'm finally happy, Danny." She finished softly.

"Then tread softly, Grasshopper." She smiled at his comment, "Remember, Sara: Forewarned, Forearmed. You have both of those going for you, you know?"

"Some of it is still so muddy, though."

"It's because you're dwelling on some parts. Push those aside and the others will have a better chance of surfacing. Well, with me it did. Everyone's mind works a little differently."

"Tell me about it."

He looked at the clock. It was time. Hopefully, McCartey wouldn't come back and interrupt. The large red stone on Sara's wrist began to glow and hum. She looked down at her wrist then back to him.

"Danny . . ." She trailed off.

"Don't worry, Pez. I'll be here."

She fell asleep.

Danny kept watch over her.

* * * *

OK . . . she was in what looked like the same place she had spoken with Seiji.

"Hello!" She called out.

There was no echo.

She let out an irritated sigh and began to pace. After some time, she wasn't sure how much time really, she started to walk. She picked a direction and headed out.

Maybe the Blade would tell her something.

It stayed silent.

"Oh, come on! What do you want, huh?! Tell me!!" There was still no echo. It bothered her, in the back of her mind. But this time she got an answer. She strained to hear it. It was little more than voices whispering in the distance.

"Whatever." She muttered.

She resumed her trek into the vast nothingness she had been dropped into. Maybe the whispering would get louder. She walked for what seemed like forever and nothing changed. No, something had changed. It was silent again. When did that happen? She strained to hear anything aside from her own breathing. There was a sudden surge and for an instant it was of everyone had been shouting in her ear at the same time. Then another moment of silence. She covered her ears when the sounds began to grow again. This time so loud that she couldn't hear the thoughts in her own mind.

It stopped.

There was a sudden heat on the back of her neck. She tensed. It - it felt like there was someone breathing . . . She could feel whoever it was smile. There was a loud scream and the floor disappeared from beneath her feet.

She fell.

Sara distantly realized that the scream had been her own.

Did bottom not exist in this place?

Her question was answered when she hit cold, wet concrete. Hard. A water pipe somewhere?

He was here. How she knew it was a male was beyond her. There was something else wrong, her wrist . . . the bracelet was gone. He was behind her again, still smiling. She scrambled to her feet and ran. The water under her feet provided no stealth. She was afraid, she hated being afraid.

There was a light. If, if she could make it there she would be safe. She needed to be safe. Away from him, anywhere but here. He was still behind her, still smiling. Why couldn't she get away?

Please god . . . if you exist . . .

She hadn't prayed in over a decade. She vaguely wondered if it would do any good.

She turned a corner, maybe she could lose him. All these pipes looked the same: cold, dark, and damp. She didn't care where she went, as long as it took her as far as she could get from him. The light wasn't getting any closer.

Huh? She couldn't feel him anymore. She turned to look behind her as she was running. She wasn't about to slow down. The decision was taken away from her when she ran into someone.

Jake.

"Oh god."

She pulled him to her and kissed him for all she was worth. She would be safe now. He broke off the kiss and spoke into her ear.

"You should be more careful, Sara. You're bleeding." He said it like it was an everyday thing.

"Wha?"

She was confused. She looked down to where his eyes were focused and took notice that her once white shirt, was now covered in dark crimson. Most of it coming from a huge gash that spanned most of her mid section.

"J-Jake?"

He was gone. The man was back. She couldn't run anymore. He was still smiling. His face was so close. He started to laugh. It was louder than the voices had been earlier. Why wouldn't he stop?

Just go away!

"Please!" She screamed.

There was a shift in the dank air. He was going to finish her. Somehow she knew it.

The world went white.

* * * *

Jake McCartey walked back into his office to see his partner literally jump out of her chair, and biting back what he could only assume was a scream.

"Sara?"

She seemed to get her bearings on her surroundings. She finally met his eyes.

Good lord what had she seen?

He didn't equate the word afraid and the name Sara Pezzini, but here it was: she was terrified. He shut the door behind him and approached her carefully. The bracelet on her wrist was glowing an angry red. He didn't want to be on the wrong end of that if she was jumpy.

"Sara? What happened?"

"I-I . . ."

Maybe if he changed the subject.

"I have the results of the tests." He offered up tentatively.

She swallowed and nodded her head,

"Are you all right?"

She shook her head no.

Oh, he was never too good at this kind of thing. He was great with strangers, but when it came to people he knew . . . he had a running trend of getting yelled at. Well, there was always the good old standby way of doing things.

He pulled her into an embrace. Maybe he shouldn't say anything.

"I saw it." Sara spoke into his chest.

Oh yeah, he did it right. McCartey, one: whatever the other team is, zero.

"What did you see?"

"He was there, I couldn't get away from him. There were all these voices. They wouldn't stop screaming, it was so loud I couldn't hear anything."

"You had another dream?"

"About me, this time."

"More of a vision then?"

Another nod.

"What happened?"

"There was nothing, then there was so much noise. I . . . I felt someone behind me. He was smiling at me, not in a good way. I fell, and then I ran. The Witchblade was gone, And I just wanted to get away. There were all these tunnels, and he went away for a while. Then I ran into you." She spewed out the details like a child who was recalling a nightmare to its parents.

"What did I do?"

"You told me I was bleeding. You said it like it was nothing, an everyday thing. Then I looked down, and there was this huge tear across my stomach. He was back, and I couldn't get away. He was going to . . . kill me. And I woke up. It took forever."

"I was only gone about twenty minutes."

"It felt like longer."

"I bet."

Jake tightened his arms around her.

"What did the results say?"

Changing the subject. He thought that was his territory.

"Sara, maybe you shou-"

"It will help."

"You sure?"

"Yeah.

"All right."

He let go of her and picked up the folder he had set down on his desk.

"Well. It's weird. Really weird. There are pieces missing, in his DNA. It looks like some segments have been replaced with sections that are from somewhere else. Some look like they've been engineered. Other's have mutated, as far as they can tell. They've been observing at this ever since we found that smudge of blood at the Currie murder. And it's still changing."

She ran a shaky hand through her hair. Maybe he could come up with something later to make her feel better.

"Changing how?"

"They don't know. But it's occurring so fast that they can observe it as it happens. In short, William Mollard is no longer, on the genetic level, human."

**********************************************************************************************

Hello all,

I was on a roll. It came quick.

Well, I'm not so sure how this chapter turned out. I think it fits. By the way, I don't think this will go over 35 chapters. I doubt it. I'm amazed I made it this far.

Oh, the top is not a ramble. It is part of the chapter.

I re-read the story and found several places where I left room for side stories. Most of them were intentional, one or two weren't. You know: missing scenes, some about a character's past, stuff like that. I do intend to do another story that has nothing to do with "Dreams" once I'm through with it. I don't know what it will be about yet, but feel free to email me ideas if you want.

Remember 10.