A Dream Wished Upon

Winking Tiger E-mail: Mblab6@aol.com November 30, 2001

Author's Note: I'm not completely sure why I wrote this, or where the idea even really came from--it just kind of came.  It's from wrote it itself, temporarily taking my fingers hostage.  But the thought came across my mind, and through my fingers, and *poof* onto my computer.

This was written long ago, winter of '01.  However, I felt the urge that something as sappy as this was needed at a time like it is now.  Please, don't flame me.  I've got very little experience in writing, especially FanFiction.  And I'd had even less experience when this was written.  Only my own brain and my computer have had much to do with this, no betas or such have come in--so please keep that in mind.  Just take this as it is, please, and enjoy of it what you can. 

Spoilers/Time frame: Past Seasons 1 & 2/AU future

Disclaimer: I own nothing

It's like a sunset. A sudden clash of colors erupts. And an array of beautiful oranges, yellows, and amazingly, pinks melt into the horizon. At first there's that bright orange that fills the place the sun took. And as time goes by and the sun fades more, the colors change, at first only to some yellows and reds. But sometimes, if you're lucky, there's some pink right on the horizon before everything darkens and the light is no longer there. Somehow, during sleep, it's like all the colors are gone and I'm left with that amazing pink. The pink that's the pure him, the man only I get to see. Like the rest of the world is given these looks. But this one, this one is only for me. Only I can see this look upon his face, this brilliant pink, while he's asleep.

The man never ceases to amaze, always has had that talent. Just when I thought he's reached his limit to astound, he shows me up. His talents are never ending. He can make me blush by just looking at me, or letting me see him like this. But when his world changes--as it has--even in just a matter of hours, he finds the strength and courage to keep on going. Sure, there've been moments when this amazing man has faltered, but he's entitled, at the very least. So much done, so much accomplished. And it's not selfish; why he did the things he did and still does. He helps so many that he'll never get a chance to meet. There'll be countless people who've been affected for the better by him without even realizing it.

He's this giant rock that's skipping along the vast waters of the city--and my life. He hits a patch of water, and sets off a set of ripples. And those ripples set off chains of ripples in the water around it and cause more ripples. Sooner or later, all the water there is around here, and everyone that lives here, will have felt his impact. His work and him just keep going and going.

Sometimes I wonder where he got all his strength and courage. I know he might not have always had them. Or if they've always been there, they were in exile for a while. But I've got a feeling that it's the latter of the two. Just a minor set back and then he was the man he once was, though it took much struggle.

I look back at it now, and I realize it wasn't as minor then as I think of it now. It was a big deal, at least to him. His optimistic nature took a little too long to settle back in, and in its absence tyranny took over him. Somehow it took over me as well, maybe through osmosis. Hell, that's as good of a guess as any. But I do know how we danced non-stop around each other. We'd get close, and then our walls would come back up. And when we'd finally begun to chip through them again something else would happen. It took too long for us to realize what we were doing, as opposed to what we wanted to be doing. And then it was taken away from us, all too quickly. And then when I'd esca-

I'd almost been transported to another world just now, certainly in a reverie. But I'm all to quickly removed and taken back to where I really am, though not on purpose. He just stirred. A good part of what takes up the space in this bed just moved his arm around to rest on his stomach, and took a corner of the sheets with him. I gently adjust the covers, as they were previous to his actions, and set back again at my watch-of him.

Not a bad sight to stare at, not at all. It's odd really, to act the way I do, when I just see the man. Being the Manticore soldier I am, emotions never were a strong suit, not exactly enforced as much as other things were. There wasn't exactly an "Emotions 101". If there was, it must've been with "Ballroom Dancing 101" and "Art for Dummies". But, it's all rather natural. Just going with what feels right seems to have gotten me far, hasn't screwed me over yet.

Something must be bothering him, at least in his sleep. Maybe he's got a nightmare. He's fidgeting again, moving in one direction, then stopping and adjusting a limb, and then remaining still for a moment. And then he goes at it again. Just watching a nightmare play across his sleeping form hurts me. There really aren't words for seeing someone suffer, that you care so deeply for, and not being able to do a damned thing about it. Thing is, we both knew how that feels, before things were fixed the way they were. Having been through that, and knowing now that there really isn't a thing I can do to help him with this, as trivial a problem as it is, just eats away at me.

It's a subconscious thing, making sure I'm doing all that I can to make sure he's okay. I never remember ever intentionally going, 'Alright Max, is he fine? Am I doing everything I can? Is there anymore I could do?' But he is okay, that I've made sure of. He's breathing, I can see his chest rise and fall. It's a methodic motion. Like a steady clock, rhythmically inhaling then exhaling, the solid wall of his chest rising to take air in, the air filling his lungs full, and slowly reducing and letting out that deep breath.

In this quiet room there isn't much in outside noises or distractions. Of course there's noises out on the street, they're always is-no matter when or where you are. And with my hearing, I don't even have to hear what I don't want. And right now, all I do want is to hear those intakes and releases of breath, and his heart, beating. Sure and steady his heart goes, one of the most amazing sounds I've ever heard. The amount of times I can and have just leaned up against his chest to hear that steady beating has got to be innumerable. As long as his steady heart beats, I am relaxed and safe. It's the solid strength I cling to in a whirlwind of motion and fierce battle. He not only steadies me, but he's got a firm grip on me as well. There're a few things that he holds onto me by, and I really find delight in each of them.

And before I can think of what I've just done, my body's already accomplished its task. The hand that'd now fallen to his side, and over the edge of the bed, is now atop his abdomen, by my efforts. And for a brief instant his eyes flicker and it seems as though my movements have awakened him. But he has not woken; he is still blissfully asleep, though not the same as before. But now, I'm basking in the delights of the change.

Instead of the sometimes stern but often somewhat relaxed and amazing tone his face takes at sleep, there is a new appearance. That amazing head, with sandy blonde hair, amazing aqua eyes that can pierce the soul, and the cutest stubble I've ever seen, now greets me with a singular smile. But all too quickly it's gone. I've never remembered seeing him do that before, smile in his sleep.

If curiosity killed the cat, I'm in a direct path of coming into some serious harm. Can't help it if there's cat in my cocktail. Let's see, just try that again, touch him. Touch his face this time, and sure enough. There it is again. One of the most amazing things I've ever seen. Just touching the man, while he's asleep, brings a smile to his face. Absolutely amazing, the most undying and fierce, yet unspoken, declaration of love I could ever really receive.

"Hey, can't a man get his sleep?" Now I really did do it.

"Oh, just go back to sleep. As soon as your head hits the pillow again you'll be out."

"Not that big of a deal, really? How come my head was on my pillow, and I had been out, but someone woke me up by poking and touching?"

"Really, who could've done that? Some sleep poking bed fairy? Had to have been an invisible one, didn't see it even come into the room! Invisible, silent, and annoying!"

"Real cute, haha. Leave it to you to keep up the banter at," he leaned over to the side of the bed, where the clock is in view once again. "Dear god! It's 3:30 Max. Really, some people aren't revved up, or as close to perfection, in everything, as you are that they don't need sleep. Have you ever understood that concept, some people need sleep."

"Oh really, poor baby! What, so you're saying that you're just a poor old man that doesn't want to be disturbed and just wants his sleep?"

"No, I'm saying that I'm tired, been up with you for hours, and I'd like some sleep. And thinks its right for you to be sleeping too."

"Really, tryin' to enforcing your powers over me?"

"No, voicing my concern over you, and concern for-" and he doesn't get a chance to finish.

"Can you really blame me though?"

"Can I? Or will I?" leaves his lips accompanied with a mischievous and somehow innocent smile.

"Can you? Really, I just touch you-to calm you down-and you go off with a smile. That smile of yours! You weren't even awake and you smiled! I couldn't help but marvel at that, see it over and over."

"Marvel, well, that you can do, though I may not understand it fully. Did you ever think though, that I do that because I know it's you? That I can tell, even asleep, your touch from someone else, welcome and want it?"

That's got to be an ingenious idea, really. Had I ever thought of that?

"Could you blame me?" He bleats out.

"Reverse the roles huh? What was it again, 'keep up the banter' at an ungodly hour? I seem to be in the thought theory that you are wrong Mr. Cale-I'm not the only one."

"When I've gotten so much practice, is there any question as to my ability anymore?"

"Ability?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

"To keep up with you. At this banter we've got."

"Of course. Keep up that."

"Though I'd much rather marvel at something, myself, than keep this up."

"Oh really? And that would be what exactly?"

Once again, his idea was quickly apparent. When small circles began to be traced on my stomach and his hand had slid possessively and yet very loving to a place something else all together resided there was no mistaking his thoughts. Yet, his actions seem to be too little of an answer for him.

"This, I could marvel at this for the rest of my life. Us Max, we--together, together we created this. Seeing such a thing, inside you, marveling doesn't even come close. There may not be enough words to express this … the awe. I'm touched more than you may ever know, Max."

This has somehow begun as a thing about him, this amazing man and all his glory, and has been turned into the amazing things about me, and what I hold within. "No, I think I've an idea just what you mean and how you feel."

"So what, we're even now? I keep my hand where it is, and you get the occasional touch while I'm asleep?"

"Yeah, I think I can live with that."

"Good. I can too, if you actually get some sleep Max! Please, its not-it's not only you Max. Just, let's just do all that we can, alright?"

"Of course, Mr. Dotting Dad."

"Leave me be, I've as much right as you! Small pleasures Max, allow me these small pleasures, please?"

"Of course, dote to your hearts delight, just don't get pissy when I tell you that I can't sleep with a dotting dad keeping me awake!"

"Oh, so now I'm keeping you awake! Really? Well, in that case, let's both call truces and get back to the regularly scheduled sleep."

"Fine, you win, I'll go to sleep, no matter how much you're makin' it impossible to!"

"Fine, original truce agreed. My hand," Again, the small circles. "Right here, and you can poke, prod, and touch to you're heart's delight."

"Agreed."

"Agreed. Good, now let's try this again."

"Fine"

And with that silence ensued.

"What about me, can you blame me? The dotting, it was too much Max. Too much happened for me not to. I can't help it. It took too much time, too much pain, too much to get where we are. I see you sometimes, walking ahead of me, seeing the amazing view. And I just can't help but be amazed at how amazing you are, and you're actually mine. Knowing-having you pledge you're love to me. Leaving my mark on you," He's gone and grabbed my hand, gently touched my ring. "This. Letting me be you're husband, it blows me away.

"And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, having you for me and only me. My God Max, having your dreams come true aren't everyday events, you'll have to forgive me for going off like I am."

"Forgive you?"

"I just can't help it."

"But wait, your dreams came true?" I asked cautiously, curious if he means exactly what I think does.

"Do you really think that there's anything else I'd want with all my heart?" It's as if he can read my mind and its thoughts sometimes. He knew what I was thinking, and made sure to calm any doubt I had. But, he's not done, he just goes on some more.  "There isn't, incase you weren't sure.  I couldn't imagine wanting something … loving something—things—as much as you two.  It's the ultimate, Max.  Can't top this, this is the best; though I'd sure love to try and top it.  I'm just looking forward to living like this.  Living as good as it gets … living—being the three of us.  I love you, always know that."

"Logan … I … thank you.  That's … it was … I love you too.  I love this," she placed a hand on her stomach, "just as much as you.  I can't wait either." 

And so having settled everything, he let it go, and we got to sleep once again.  Though I know he had a smile on his face, I wouldn't be too surprised if I did too.