Additional note: Don't let
the first scene in this fic scare you away...it's not what it seems! You'll
have to read to find out what it is I'm talking about though ;D Please
read, review and ENJOY. ^_^
These Dreams
Part One
~¤§¤~
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
that cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
-- Langston Hughes
~¤§¤~
Piccolo loomed over the foot of my bed. His long, white cape flowed over his muscular body and hung in folds down his back. The cape was all he wore. That is, if I didn't count the roguish smirk on his handsome green face.
Off went the cape and heavy shoulderpads. THUD! The entire house shook. Piccolo clasped his hands together in front of him and tensed his arms so the muscles in his upper body all stood out in sharp relief. I nearly frothed at the mouth. So delicious...so sexy...
Suddenly that angular face was coming closer. Piccolo crawled like a predator over my bed, letting me watch every muscle on his rugged frame ripple like liquid metal under his emerald skin. Once above me, he lowered down to cover my small body with his large one. I shivered as his warm skin seared mine. Our lips met and mingled. He shifted his attention to my neck. His sharp fangs danced dangerously around my jugular vein and windpipe, creating delicious sensations. Two warm antennae tickled my ear and throat. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Dragged my nails across his leathery Namekian flesh, making him arch his back. He pinned my wrists to the mattress after he'd had enough of my teasing. His hot breath drifted across my face, smelling slightly of water and sugar.
A deep growl rumbled in his throat. "I want you..."
Oh, how I so dearly wanted him, too. After seeing his little display I was more than ready to make love to him. I shuddered in delight, squirming under his careful grasp. "I want you more..."
Those dark, enigmatic eyes softened. His once unreadable, expressionless face shone with naked passion. I saw him smile. Gently. Lovingly.
"Tell me you love me," I breathed.
Piccolo lowered his lips to mine. Against them, aching with desire, he whispered, "I love you."
I closed my eyes and smiled, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Piccolo's hand moved up to my neck and -
Before I realized what happened, the caressing hand clamped around my throat. My eyes shot open, I couldn't breathe!
The demon shadow rose above me where my beloved Piccolo should have been. It resembled a very black version of Cell's first form. A hideous, deathly black that sucked in all light without reflecting it. I saw my reflection in a pair of cold silver eyes that held promises of death. A stinger-tipped tail dripping with acid and buzzing with pale electrical energy curved into view. The air was suddenly colder than the coldest part of the universe. I couldn't stop shivering.
Cruel, echoing laughter roared through my ears. I tried to scream, my voice wouldn't work.
"Hello, Cyndi!" Void bent
down until her acidic eyes were inches from mine. She giggled mockingly
in my face. "I'm baaaaaaaack!"
"AAH!" I felt my legs jerk and opened my eyes to find myself alone in my room. My heart pounded in my chest. Sweat layered my forehead and neck. I shook all over like a leaf.
Just a dream, the same damn dream for the second time in a row.
I looked at the clock. Six-thirty...a far cry from the usual nine-thirty when I usually wake up. But it was Sunday, which meant I'd be getting up early anyway to sing with the choir at the Sunday mass. I sing Soprano, and I'm probably the youngest one in the whole choir. Everyone else is old enough to be my parents or grandparents.
Sleep wouldn't return to me no matter how hard I tried. Defeated, I got up and took my pill. By the time I'd gone into the bathroom to splash water on my face and take a leak, it was six-fifty two.
"Whoa, what are you doing up already?" Asked my dad. He was sitting on the couch, watching war coverage on the Fox News Network.
I looked at him sleepily, my eyes not yet moist enough to make out his eyes behind his bifocals, "Bad dream, couldn't get back to sleep." Then I wandered into the kitchen to get myself some breakfast. Dad got up and went into my room to play some online cribbage.
Turning on the faucet in the kitchen sink, I wet my fingers and wiped my eyes with them. Doing this has the same effect as coffee on me. Once my eyes are open right I'm usually alert. With one ear on the TV in the living room, I poured myself a bowl of Honeycombs cereal and wandered out to sit in the big recliner to watch a few minutes of the news. From what I heard our American troops rescued seven prisoners of war.....or refugees, I was still somewhat sleepy and my memory of the news is a bit foggy.
I changed the channel to VH1 while chewing on some crunchy honey-goodness. Watching a music channel gets my mind in the right gear to sing with the choir. This is another autism ritual. If I don't listen to something musical, I don't seem to have the 'energy' to sing right.
Now that I'd grown more alert, I let myself think about the nightmare. Something different happened in the dream the first time I had it, but it ended exactly the same way - with Void choking me. Why?
No time to ponder it. Before I could say 'time flies' it was eight-fifteen. Time to get dressed, put on my makeup(I've actually started wearing makeup when I go out, that almost scares me) and get into my blue choir robe. I entered my room where dad was on the computer and picked out my usual black dress pants with the pin-stripes and a white V-neck blouse that dipped pretty low in the front. I have no cleavage whatsoever, but I'm surprised my dad let me keep this shirt. I guess he finally realized I wasn't a teenager anymore. Which was a GOOD thing, in many ways.
Whenever I put on eyeshadow, I try to create the smokey-eyed Stevie Nicks look. I can do it pretty good now, but I really wish my stupid mascara wouldn't clump so much. When I finished applying the makeup, my blue eyes stood out with two shades of brown eyeshadow and black eyeliner accenting them, my cheeks were blushed a soft, barely-there pink(I'm pale so light colors work on me) and my lips were colored with my Sheer Lilac lipstick. I felt pretty. My dad always thinks my eyeshadow is too heavy, yet the ladies in the choir think it's fine.
Dad came and knocked on the door, "Are you on schedule?"
"Yep!" I called back as I put on some finishing touches and took care of the rest of my business. Then I went into my room to don all ten of my rings, my Virgin Mary necklace and my watch. I took my second pill of the day, grabbed my music and a bottled water.
In the other room, dad's keys rattled. He appeared in the living room while I was climbing into my blue choir robe - it's easier for me to just wear the robe to and from church. That way I have plenty of time to use the bathroom and relax before Mass starts.
"I'll warm up the car. Don't be too long." said dad quietly, so as not to wake up my still-sleeping mom. I just nodded and joined him in the car a few minutes later. My throat was all gunky like usual on Sunday morning - my vocal cords 'knew' they were going to be busy and were getting all lubricated up. I tuned out the sports radio station dad was listening to and stared out the window as we pulled out onto Tustin Avenue.
Just to make conversation, I piped up, "Don't you just hate those scary dreams that won't let you go back to sleep?"
My dad smiled a bit, "Yeah, I had one this morning too. Don't remember it well enough to tell you about it. I hate those kinds of dreams."
"Heh, yeah." I thought nothing of it and took a sip from my bottled water. Carefully so that I wouldn't rub off my stupid lipstick. If I don't lick my lips the stuff will actually stay on longer, but it's hard not to lick my lips!
Before I knew it we had pulled into the church parking lot. I grabbed my backpack full of music and climbed out of the car. "Bye daddy!"
"See ya, kid!" Dad answered. He waited until I had walked around behind the car before he pulled away and disappeared around the Ministry building where I was heading. The choir always warmed up in there before singing in Mass. I stepped through the door and rounded the small embankment where I was greeted by the white-haired, sweet-voiced choir director, Hayden. He was a southern gentleman of seventy years who grew up on music and could sing better than anyone I knew personally. I still swear that if he wasn't such a perfectionist with our choir, we wouldn't be as awesome as we are. We've improved so much over the past two years that I don't even remember what the choral group was like when I joined.
"Good morning!" I called to him.
Hayden looked up and brightened, "Hi!"
Dropping my backpack, I took my seat and waited for the others to arrive so our warm-up could begin. As usual I was early so I had plenty of time to arrange my music.
"Cyndi? You look a little tired. Is everything all right?" It wasn't uncommon for Hayden to be concerned about me. I like to think of him as an uncle or a grandpa. He was also smart when it came to reading people's moods.
I looked up from my music, half-smiling, "Oh, I'm fine! I just had a dream that woke me up earlier than usual." While I spoke I placed my 'The Lord Bless You And Keep You' hymn behind my copy of 'Jubilate Deo'. I checked my schedule again to make sure everything had been placed in the right order.
Hayden gave me an inquisitive glance. He was also arranging his music on the little podium where he directed from during our warm-ups. "That's funny, so did I..."
My head cocked at his reply. Him too? But before I could say more the door opened and our cantor, Arnie, walked in with his briefcase full of music. Arnie reminds me of my dad a lot, same kind of beard and glasses, except he's shorter and a bit bald on top. He was a tenor with a talent for telling jokes. Maybe I should rent Arnie out to King Kai on slow days, he'd keep the blue guy laughing for days.
Arnie waved to me and started
digging out his music. The door slammed again as more people started filing
in. Tom, our organ player, was among them. Once Tom arrived, Hayden moved
behind the little podium and asked for quiet so those where were present
could start warming up.
Mass had just let out. I said my usual goodbye to fellow choir-members, joked around with a few others and hefted my backpack over my shoulder. Mom waited patiently for me next to the second-row pew while I spoke briefly with Joanie and Anne about a part in the music where I'd sang a wrong note by mistake. It almost threw the whole section off, but they recovered. Thank God Joanie has a big voice and keeps the sopranos in tune!
"Ready to go?" Came my mom's voice from behind me. I turned to her and nodded.
"Yeah, I'm dying in this robe." My hands shifted the triangular collar around my neck. It kind of felt like wearing Piccolo's heavy shoulderpads. Maybe that's the reason he's such a grump! "What is up with this heat?"
"High pressure system. It'll get cooler tonight and tomorrow."
I twisted my mouth to the
side. Hours of sweating lay ahead in my immediate future. Yay. "That's
a relief. I'm gonna be so miserable this summer. Stupid house without air
conditioning."
Arriving home never felt so good. I hurried into the semi-cool house so I could shed my heavy robe and dump off the ten-ton backpack hanging on my shoulder. My mom went into the kitchen to fix my dad some egg sandwiches. I heard the familiar clink of the butter platter being slid across the countertop and pulled open. Then I caught the musty scent of eggs cooking. It reminded me that I was starving after eating nothing since breakfast at seven-fifteen...and it was noon. My stomach whined at me to feed it. Oh well, it could wait a few more minutes while I changed clothes and washed my makeup off.
My bedroom door was hanging ajar. Well that's not unusual, my dad closes it when he plays cribbage so he won't wake mom up with his annoyed mutterings. I paid the door no mind as I entered my room.
The door was shoved shut and a hand reached from behind to clamp over my mouth. A very green hand with pointed white nails.
Piccolo's deep voice spoke above me in a deadly-serious tone. "Don't make a sound. Don't ask any questions. You're coming with me."
"Mmf fmeh meef mo mnng!" I mumbled against his palm, trying to say that I needed to change first.
"You can change clothes later." He hauled me right off my feet like I weighed nothing and flew with me through the mirror above my dresser. Being 'kidnapped' by Piccolo wasn't my idea of a relaxing Sunday afternoon, especially since I didn't have a frigging clue what the hell he wanted. It definitely wasn't a sex game. Damn.
Piccolo let me drop onto my butt as soon as we landed in the Lookout kitchen. I jumped up and growled at him, "HEY! Do you MIND?! What is this all about, huh?! Kidnapping me out of my own damn house..."
The Namek glared daggers at me, "This is important!"
I made a face at him, growling, "oh sure...well I'm not listening to ANYTHING until I feed my face! I'm hungry and I can't concentrate on anything when I'm hungry!"
"HUMPH! Your hunger is a weakness" Piccolo gave me a really dirty look.
"Bite me! I have to eat if I want to be strong, Green Bean." I made a talk-to-the-hand gesture at him. Mr. Popo peeked his head into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about. I could have kissed that ebony genie right then, because he was about to save my life! "Mr. Popo! Thank God! I need something to eat, like now! I'm starving."
"Oh of course!" Mr. Popo's lips curved into a painted smile. He linked his beefy hands together and leaned forward, "What can Mr. Popo cook for you?"
"Well, I don't need as much as Goku, that's for sure! Just a slightly burnt grilled cheese sandwich, a salad with avocado and tomato topped in Thousand Islands dressing and a glass of milk. Please?" I batted my mascara-leaden eyelashes sweetly. Normally I don't drink milk, but I always crave it when I eat a grilled-cheese sandwich.
Mr. Popo brightened. "Coming right up!"
Within ten minutes I was munching on the most delicious grilled cheese sandwich and salad I'd ever tasted. The rough, salty sandwhich, eaten crust-first, melted with the cheese in my mouth. The dressing gave my throat a comfortable, tangy aftertaste. I relished in the way the tomato slices exploded in my mouth between the velvety bits of avocado and crunchy lettuce. Yum, yum, YUMMY! I washed it all down with the milk and sighed. Mr. Popo then brought out my surprise dessert - a slice of chocolate cake! MY FAVORITE!!! "Oooh thank you!" I POUNCED on that bowl of cake and lost myself in the rich sweetness of chocolate liquifying on my tongue. Every bite was Heavenly. I finished up with a second glass of milk, then sat back. Contentedly full. Oh that was so much better than the little Swiss Cake Rolls I usually grab at noon every day.
Piccolo waited impatiently while I ate. I could almost smell the relief on him when I didn't scarf up all the food in the fridge like the Saiyajins always did.
"Boy am I glad you don't take so long to eat," Piccolo muttered, rolling his eternally dark eyes. He stepped away when I shoved my chair back to stand up. My nose came up to the middle of his chest...he was so friggin tall. "Are you ready to listen now?"
A bit sleepy because I was completely stuffed, I nodded. Piccolo wordlessly turned from me and padded back out into the sunlight. I followed behind like a loyal little lamb. Sat down in the lotus position with him and fiddled with a fold of his baggy purple gi pants. Being full didn't make it any easier for me to concentrate on what he planned to say, but at least I wouldn't be thinking about food instead of his words.
Piccolo started talking right away, "I've been seeing some disturbing images in my dreams and meditations. Even Dende has had a few frightening visions. When I sensed your nightmare I realized something strange was going on. I tried to get to you, but you weren't home and I couldn't risk entering your church and creating a stir."
I jerked my head up, "My dad had a strange dream too! So did my choir director!" Then I looked down again and blushed, if Piccolo sensed my dream then he saw the good part too. How embarrassing! "I saw Void in my dream...she tried to choke me. I think the others might have seen her too and just didn't think of it as anything more than a scary nightmare."
Nodding his turban-clad head, Piccolo closed his eyes. I saw a muscle in his jaw bulge a little as he silently chewed on the inside of his cheek. An invitation for me to ask him any questions I might have.
"Then..." I stopped fidgeting with the fold of his gi pants. In the warm sunlight I could smell the leathery material of his shoes...he must have recently materialized them to replace the old ones. Not a bad smell, really. "...Why is she only showing up in dreams?"
Piccolo's calm reply came without a thought. "Because she's trying to take over."
I gasped, "She can't do that!" My heart upped its tempo double-time. Adrenalin caused an uneasy feeling to spread through the pit of my stomach, creating the same sickening dread I used to get whenever I got caught doing something I shouldn't. My throat was suddenly so dry that I barely kept my voice going. "I mean...dreams are what give people hope and inspiration! Our minds use dreams, you know, to work out problems or warn us of future events! They're the reason why the airplane was invented, most of our modern marvels exist, movies were made and...and...this place was created! Without them the whole world might as well go insane! It'll be chaos!"
"That's why we can't let her win. If she does, dreams...even daydreams...will cease to exist and people may never sleep or wake up again." Piccolo's reply was as pacific as ever - with an edge of anger. "Without dreams, hope will cease to exist. And without hope, life might as well disappear too."
This time I crossed my arms and tipped my chin forward, imitating Piccolo's posture. "How the hell are we s'pposed to fight Void if we can't even touch her? You can't beat up a dream, you know."
Inhaling through his nose, Piccolo opened his eyes and fixed me in his intense gaze. Those eyes were deadly serious. "Well..." he started to smirk in that sexy way of his, "We'll just have to go after her. Your dreams are pretty intense, Cyndi. So are mine. If we dream together, well make Void shake in her boots. I'll have to train your mind a little before we make our move against her, but that shouldn't take long. Once I teach you how to control your dreams, you'll be all set."
"Dreams are passive," I commented.
"Not if you're aware that you're dreaming. That's what I'm going to teach you."
I sighed some. More lessons...just great. Piccolo wasn't always a fun teacher to deal with...but then again any moment with him is a dream come true in itself.
Quickly, I dug around in my fanny pack(didn't get a chance to put it down when Piccolo grabbed me earlier) for my DBZ palm pad and a pencil. I wrote a few things down in it for later.
Piccolo lifted a sharply-defined brow ridge. He eyed me strangely. "What are you doing?"
"Taking notes so I can write this all down later. The Believers need to follow what we're doing, don't they? I'm gonna write about what went down here and post it on my site and Fanfiction dot net. It'll help pass the time quicker for me."
"Ahh..." He nodded and actually smiled a rare smile at me. I must have really pleased him. The sunlight gleamed through his eyes like I'd often see the light play off Master Roshi's shades whenever he gets an idea. Obviously I'd given him a good one. "Yes, the power of their dreams will definitely add into ours. Good thinking, kid." Then he became very serious. He placed a warm knuckle under my chin and raised my head, leveling his fierce eyes with mine, "It's going to be a serious fight, Cyndi. You can't half-ass your way through it. I'm going to need everything you've got until this is all over. Do you promise you'll give it your all?"
I placed my small hands around his wrist. It was so laced in muscle that it took both of them to wrap completely around. "Do you really think I'd run away from a fight when a sexy bastard like yourself asked me for help?" Heat rushed through my cheeks.
Piccolo's smile turned into a smirk that showed one fang. He shook his head, chuckled at me and gave my head a playful shove away. I wonder if he had the same warm, gooey feeling inside that I did.
"Good. Now get back to your place and don't tell anyone about what you're doing. Just act like it's a usual day and come back when everyone else in your house is asleep. If you daydream and see Void...snap yourself out of it. She can't hurt you while you're awake."
I frowned at him. "Are you sure about that?"
Piccolo nodded slowly and heaved himself to his feet. I got up as well. He walked with me into the kitchen, "I'll see you later, kid."
"Later, Piccolo," I waved to him and climbed into the rippling steel refridgerator door. Not more than sixty seconds had passed since I first disappeared. I knew this because the clock on my cable box displayed the same time it had shown when I left. Which was a good thing since my parents would notice if I disappeared for almost two hours.
Sighing, I flipped on my computer and wandered into the bathroom to change. Washed off my makeup and used the special oil to remove the mascara. Then I returned to my room and sat down in front of my computer. Another sigh escaped me. I opened Netscape Composer and started typing.
This was going to be a long day...