Regina: I would just like to say thank you to all of those people who reviewed, showing their concern for Amara, and in particular those who have put me on their favourite author list, and/or their author alert list. And those who have put In the Dreaming, and my other Amyro fics on their favourite stories list. There are too many of you to thank, but you know who you are, and I would thank each and everyone of you if I could. In fact, I would like to thank everyone who likes Amyro, whether they read my stories or not (although they won't know it, as they will have not read this!). The reason that I say that, is that I got a few very negative entries in the guestbook of my Amyro website, Burning Souls, telling me how stupid Amyro was, as the two have never met in the actual series. But who cares? Isn't that what Amyro is all about? Taking something that never happened, and making something great out of it? Isn't that what all fanfiction is about? Things that never happened, but we would like to see, and is great anyway? For example, did the X-Men and co. ever meet themselves as the opposite gender (or in Pyro's case, the same gender. That was just for laughs, I was not suggesting anything!)? No! But was it funny? Heck, yeah! Or were the 150-odd reviews that story has received just in my imagination? Don't think so!
So there's an age difference between John and Amara. What about Rogue and Logan (Rogan)? Or Logan and anybody? This person was ranting about how disgusting this was (John and Amara, not Logan and anybody), amongst other things. Like how Amara and John have completely opposite personalities - he's a psycho, and she's a spoiled princess. Heard of opposites attract? And then this person went on to rant about how Evo John is so completely different from his comic version - saying that he's a creative and caring individual. Hello? What do you think I have made him in my stories? Creative, caring - with just a touch of psycho. Hey, that actually describes me - creative: I write stories; caring: I work with small children just for the joy of it. I don't get paid for it; just a touch of psycho: I like to see things burn - just so long as it is contained, and is not hurting anybody. After some of the things people have done to me, I would never want to hurt them with fire - somebody tried to set my hair on fire, and that is so not fun! And then came the last argument any anti- Amyroists (is that really a word? If so, I created it! You are all witnesses!) use - just because she is fire, and he controls fire, they automatically should be a couple?! I cannot speak for other Amyro authors (I guess I could say Amyroists), but I have never used that idea as the basis of my stories. I believe that the fact that she is fire and John can control it may result in an attraction between those two (particularly on John's behalf) but that does not mean that they should get together. Fire, to John and Amara, may just be that initial attraction between the two of them, just like two people who both like, I don't know, skiing. It gives them a common interest, from which anything can develop - or not develop, whatever the case may be.
I am sorry for that rant, but I had to get that off my chest. I will not mention the name of the main anti-Amyroist, but I will say that they are a Jonda fan. Not that I mind them being that - they can be whatever they want, so long as they don't judge me. Any coupling can be good (except for a few gross ones) as long as they are well written, and are not offensive. I just hope that other people can accept that I am an independent person, and I am entitled to my own beliefs - and that happens to be Amyroism. If you are an Amyroist (or I guess, the technical term, which has slipped my mind until now, would be an Amyro shipper) you can come and get a good dose of Amyro at my site, Burning Souls, which is also a shrine to John and Amara, (two of my favourite characters) by going to the address We at Burning Souls are always on the lookout for all fanworks Amyro-related, especially fan art, which it is particularly lacking. I also feel I should recommend the only other Amyro site I know of, apart from Burning Souls (if I do not know of any other Amyro sites, please let me know. I really would like to link to your site!), the Amyro Archives. A link to it can be found on my site, as I cannot remember the link off the top of my head.
Now what was I here for? Ah hah! I remember! In all my ranting, I completely forgot! Here is the next chapter for In the Dreaming!
And once again, I am sorry for taking up so much of your time with this rant. Please forgive me.
In The Dreaming
Chapter Seven: Screams and Whispers
"No!" shouts John. "Amara!"
The name fills his mind, as everything he has experienced in the last few days comes rushing back. He remembers now who this girl is, what she could do, and most importantly, what she means to him.
And how much it hurts him now that she is gone. He has lost her - forever, it seems.
He sinks to his knees, the gravity of what has just happened weighing him down so that he cannot stand. Each heartbeat adds to the sorrow.
He knows that this cannot be, as he never really knew her, that this is just a dream - or nightmare - but something inside him tells him - is screaming at him - that she is more important to him than anything else. That he is nothing without her.
John can understand why. A girl of her power. . . a girl of living flame. . . perhaps even a living fire goddess. . . it all made sense in a strange way.
But it was more than just her power that drew him to her, and her to him. It ran much deeper, a vein of power and life that connected them, a cord that could never be broken.
But right now, it appears that such a cord has been cut, or even worse, it never existed.
John slams an angry fist down onto the black ground, which has taken Amara from him.
"Give her back!" he shouts angrily. "I - I - just give her back!" He slams his fist down once more.
And where his fist makes contact, a light so bright it hurts to look at it explodes from the darkness. John tries to cover his eyes, but it is futile. The light shines through him, illuminating every bit of him, and revealing things about him that even he does not even know exist.
But it is all over too quickly, because as the light grows brighter, his body begins to dissolve, falling to pieces, and the light hurls him out of the darkness, and into the world of the waking.
X X X
John's eyes flew open, and he sat up, gasping for breath. "It was just a dream, she's not real, it didn't happen."
"Whoa, there," said a deep voice. "Don't sit up so fast. You're sick. Lie back down." When John didn't move, two strong hands pushed him back down onto the bed. "Calm down," added the voice. "Tell us what happened."
The image in front of John's eyes sharpened, and he saw a giant blue - man? - looking down at him.
"What the heck is going on here?!" demanded John. "And who the heck are you? And where the heck am I?"
"You're at the Xavier Institute."
"Pietro? What the heck are you doing here? Why the heck are we at the X- Men's place? What the heck -"
"Stop saying 'what the heck'!" Bobby interrupted suddenly. "You're here because he brought you here, and Tabitha made him bring you here because of her!" He pointed in the direction of the bed next to John, which, until then, John had not seen.
John looked in the direction Bobby was pointing at. His eyes widened with shock, and his face went pale.
"What?" asked Pietro. "What is it?"
"It's her," John whispered, getting up from the bed. "The girl from my dreams. The girl of my dreams."
"She's not on fire anymore," Pietro said, his voice strangled, realising that she had stopped burning at the same time John had woken up - perhaps only a few moments earlier, at the most. Then he blinked. "The girl from your what?"
"My dreams," replied John, his voice hushed, as if in awe. He took a few hesitant steps over towards the bed, and continued to stare at the unconscious Amara.
"What the heck is going on here?" Bobby muttered to Hank.
"I don't know," Hank replied truthfully. "But perhaps he is the only one who can help her."
"How?" asked Pietro, just as confused as the other two.
"He has seen her in his dreams, long before he saw her in real life. And the fact he has experienced the same symptoms as her may mean that their conditions are linked."
"Well, I don't care what you say," Pietro said, eyeing John, who was gazing with an almost rapt expression at Amara, who for all appearances could have been sleeping. "This is not right." He sped across the distance that separated him from his friend, and grabbed his arm. "Look, John," he told him as he spun him around to face him, "this is crazy. I don't know what you think you are doing, but this has got to stop. You're better now, and that's the only reason I brought you here. Not so you can stare at some girl who thinks she's Sleeping Beauty."
"Not some girl," replied John. "Amara."
It was Pietro's eyes turn to widen. No one had ever mentioned Amara's name to John.
The few times her name had been mentioned, he had been unconscious, or out of the room, or both. And this was the first time he had seen her, so even if he had heard the name somewhere, he could not have linked it with her face.
Yet here he was, knowing what she looked like and what her name was.
Through his dreams, he had claimed. But it was just not possible.
Was it?
X X X
Amara is beyond feeling now. It is as if her body is encased in a block of ice, her mind suspended in time. She does not know where she is, nor does she know who she is.
She knows only one thing.
That something is there, stalking the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And when that time comes, she will not be able to do anything about it. Because something has been draining her of her power, sapping her of her strength.
That is why she is here, although she does not know it.
The one who lured her into this shadow realm has another, darker purpose in store for her yet. But the process has already begun.
Before long, she will be nothing more than a ghost trapped in a hollow shell, haunting the small confines of this dark space.
For as the monster drains her of her power, he is also stealing her soul.
Unless he can be stopped.
X X X
His hand shook as he reached out and touched her hair gently. He knew, right then, that this was no dream, and that he had to do something. He owed it to her, for not being able to save her before, when he had let her go. His mind knew that it had not been his fault, that he had tried his best, but his heart. . . it saw things differently.
As he stared at her, it was like he was two different people.
His mind saw the unconscious Amara, felt pity for her, wished that there was something he could do to help her, but that was all. She was not the most important thing in the world.
But then his heart would beat even faster, telling him something quite different to what his mind was saying. It's her, don't you recognise her? it whispered to him. Don't you realise it? She's the one! The one we've been waiting for! Don't let her go!
And John, as much as he regretted it, listened to his heart, at its persistent whisper that would eat away at him for eternity if he tried to ignore it.
John had forgotten the presence of Bobby, Hank, and his friend Pietro. All he saw before him was Amara, the girl who, if he did not act soon, was going to disappear, and fade away into darkness.
He could not let that happen. He would never be able to forgive himself, be able to live if he let her slip away once more.
Staring into that gentle face, John moved his hand away from her hair, and gently, hesitantly, touched her cheek. The skin beneath his fingers felt like ice, surprising, as she had been on fire only a few minutes ago.
He had very little time, and each second that passed meant it was going to be a thousand times harder to bring her back.
But what to do? he thought as he took one of Amara's lifeless hands in his own.
Although he had no idea how exactly to save her, he knew that there was something he could do, no, had to do.
Holding Amara's hand clutched close to his chest with one hand, he carefully brushed a strand of hair away from her face with the other. His manner was surprisingly gentle, considering who he was, and his usual behaviour. Amara had seemed to touch something inside him, bringing a part of him that before had been buried deep inside to the surface.
She had brought to life an entirely different John - perhaps better, perhaps worse.
Not even John knew.
But he knew what he had to do. And so he did it.
And like a prince from a fairytale, he leaned down, and gently kissed the lips of his sleeping princess.
But unlike the fairytales, Amara did not wake up.
Instead John fell to the floor. It was as if it happened in slow motion, and before anyone else knew it, he had fallen asleep once again.
Except this time, he had Amara's hand clasped tightly in his own.
And nothing was going to make him let go this time.
So there's an age difference between John and Amara. What about Rogue and Logan (Rogan)? Or Logan and anybody? This person was ranting about how disgusting this was (John and Amara, not Logan and anybody), amongst other things. Like how Amara and John have completely opposite personalities - he's a psycho, and she's a spoiled princess. Heard of opposites attract? And then this person went on to rant about how Evo John is so completely different from his comic version - saying that he's a creative and caring individual. Hello? What do you think I have made him in my stories? Creative, caring - with just a touch of psycho. Hey, that actually describes me - creative: I write stories; caring: I work with small children just for the joy of it. I don't get paid for it; just a touch of psycho: I like to see things burn - just so long as it is contained, and is not hurting anybody. After some of the things people have done to me, I would never want to hurt them with fire - somebody tried to set my hair on fire, and that is so not fun! And then came the last argument any anti- Amyroists (is that really a word? If so, I created it! You are all witnesses!) use - just because she is fire, and he controls fire, they automatically should be a couple?! I cannot speak for other Amyro authors (I guess I could say Amyroists), but I have never used that idea as the basis of my stories. I believe that the fact that she is fire and John can control it may result in an attraction between those two (particularly on John's behalf) but that does not mean that they should get together. Fire, to John and Amara, may just be that initial attraction between the two of them, just like two people who both like, I don't know, skiing. It gives them a common interest, from which anything can develop - or not develop, whatever the case may be.
I am sorry for that rant, but I had to get that off my chest. I will not mention the name of the main anti-Amyroist, but I will say that they are a Jonda fan. Not that I mind them being that - they can be whatever they want, so long as they don't judge me. Any coupling can be good (except for a few gross ones) as long as they are well written, and are not offensive. I just hope that other people can accept that I am an independent person, and I am entitled to my own beliefs - and that happens to be Amyroism. If you are an Amyroist (or I guess, the technical term, which has slipped my mind until now, would be an Amyro shipper) you can come and get a good dose of Amyro at my site, Burning Souls, which is also a shrine to John and Amara, (two of my favourite characters) by going to the address We at Burning Souls are always on the lookout for all fanworks Amyro-related, especially fan art, which it is particularly lacking. I also feel I should recommend the only other Amyro site I know of, apart from Burning Souls (if I do not know of any other Amyro sites, please let me know. I really would like to link to your site!), the Amyro Archives. A link to it can be found on my site, as I cannot remember the link off the top of my head.
Now what was I here for? Ah hah! I remember! In all my ranting, I completely forgot! Here is the next chapter for In the Dreaming!
And once again, I am sorry for taking up so much of your time with this rant. Please forgive me.
In The Dreaming
Chapter Seven: Screams and Whispers
"No!" shouts John. "Amara!"
The name fills his mind, as everything he has experienced in the last few days comes rushing back. He remembers now who this girl is, what she could do, and most importantly, what she means to him.
And how much it hurts him now that she is gone. He has lost her - forever, it seems.
He sinks to his knees, the gravity of what has just happened weighing him down so that he cannot stand. Each heartbeat adds to the sorrow.
He knows that this cannot be, as he never really knew her, that this is just a dream - or nightmare - but something inside him tells him - is screaming at him - that she is more important to him than anything else. That he is nothing without her.
John can understand why. A girl of her power. . . a girl of living flame. . . perhaps even a living fire goddess. . . it all made sense in a strange way.
But it was more than just her power that drew him to her, and her to him. It ran much deeper, a vein of power and life that connected them, a cord that could never be broken.
But right now, it appears that such a cord has been cut, or even worse, it never existed.
John slams an angry fist down onto the black ground, which has taken Amara from him.
"Give her back!" he shouts angrily. "I - I - just give her back!" He slams his fist down once more.
And where his fist makes contact, a light so bright it hurts to look at it explodes from the darkness. John tries to cover his eyes, but it is futile. The light shines through him, illuminating every bit of him, and revealing things about him that even he does not even know exist.
But it is all over too quickly, because as the light grows brighter, his body begins to dissolve, falling to pieces, and the light hurls him out of the darkness, and into the world of the waking.
X X X
John's eyes flew open, and he sat up, gasping for breath. "It was just a dream, she's not real, it didn't happen."
"Whoa, there," said a deep voice. "Don't sit up so fast. You're sick. Lie back down." When John didn't move, two strong hands pushed him back down onto the bed. "Calm down," added the voice. "Tell us what happened."
The image in front of John's eyes sharpened, and he saw a giant blue - man? - looking down at him.
"What the heck is going on here?!" demanded John. "And who the heck are you? And where the heck am I?"
"You're at the Xavier Institute."
"Pietro? What the heck are you doing here? Why the heck are we at the X- Men's place? What the heck -"
"Stop saying 'what the heck'!" Bobby interrupted suddenly. "You're here because he brought you here, and Tabitha made him bring you here because of her!" He pointed in the direction of the bed next to John, which, until then, John had not seen.
John looked in the direction Bobby was pointing at. His eyes widened with shock, and his face went pale.
"What?" asked Pietro. "What is it?"
"It's her," John whispered, getting up from the bed. "The girl from my dreams. The girl of my dreams."
"She's not on fire anymore," Pietro said, his voice strangled, realising that she had stopped burning at the same time John had woken up - perhaps only a few moments earlier, at the most. Then he blinked. "The girl from your what?"
"My dreams," replied John, his voice hushed, as if in awe. He took a few hesitant steps over towards the bed, and continued to stare at the unconscious Amara.
"What the heck is going on here?" Bobby muttered to Hank.
"I don't know," Hank replied truthfully. "But perhaps he is the only one who can help her."
"How?" asked Pietro, just as confused as the other two.
"He has seen her in his dreams, long before he saw her in real life. And the fact he has experienced the same symptoms as her may mean that their conditions are linked."
"Well, I don't care what you say," Pietro said, eyeing John, who was gazing with an almost rapt expression at Amara, who for all appearances could have been sleeping. "This is not right." He sped across the distance that separated him from his friend, and grabbed his arm. "Look, John," he told him as he spun him around to face him, "this is crazy. I don't know what you think you are doing, but this has got to stop. You're better now, and that's the only reason I brought you here. Not so you can stare at some girl who thinks she's Sleeping Beauty."
"Not some girl," replied John. "Amara."
It was Pietro's eyes turn to widen. No one had ever mentioned Amara's name to John.
The few times her name had been mentioned, he had been unconscious, or out of the room, or both. And this was the first time he had seen her, so even if he had heard the name somewhere, he could not have linked it with her face.
Yet here he was, knowing what she looked like and what her name was.
Through his dreams, he had claimed. But it was just not possible.
Was it?
X X X
Amara is beyond feeling now. It is as if her body is encased in a block of ice, her mind suspended in time. She does not know where she is, nor does she know who she is.
She knows only one thing.
That something is there, stalking the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And when that time comes, she will not be able to do anything about it. Because something has been draining her of her power, sapping her of her strength.
That is why she is here, although she does not know it.
The one who lured her into this shadow realm has another, darker purpose in store for her yet. But the process has already begun.
Before long, she will be nothing more than a ghost trapped in a hollow shell, haunting the small confines of this dark space.
For as the monster drains her of her power, he is also stealing her soul.
Unless he can be stopped.
X X X
His hand shook as he reached out and touched her hair gently. He knew, right then, that this was no dream, and that he had to do something. He owed it to her, for not being able to save her before, when he had let her go. His mind knew that it had not been his fault, that he had tried his best, but his heart. . . it saw things differently.
As he stared at her, it was like he was two different people.
His mind saw the unconscious Amara, felt pity for her, wished that there was something he could do to help her, but that was all. She was not the most important thing in the world.
But then his heart would beat even faster, telling him something quite different to what his mind was saying. It's her, don't you recognise her? it whispered to him. Don't you realise it? She's the one! The one we've been waiting for! Don't let her go!
And John, as much as he regretted it, listened to his heart, at its persistent whisper that would eat away at him for eternity if he tried to ignore it.
John had forgotten the presence of Bobby, Hank, and his friend Pietro. All he saw before him was Amara, the girl who, if he did not act soon, was going to disappear, and fade away into darkness.
He could not let that happen. He would never be able to forgive himself, be able to live if he let her slip away once more.
Staring into that gentle face, John moved his hand away from her hair, and gently, hesitantly, touched her cheek. The skin beneath his fingers felt like ice, surprising, as she had been on fire only a few minutes ago.
He had very little time, and each second that passed meant it was going to be a thousand times harder to bring her back.
But what to do? he thought as he took one of Amara's lifeless hands in his own.
Although he had no idea how exactly to save her, he knew that there was something he could do, no, had to do.
Holding Amara's hand clutched close to his chest with one hand, he carefully brushed a strand of hair away from her face with the other. His manner was surprisingly gentle, considering who he was, and his usual behaviour. Amara had seemed to touch something inside him, bringing a part of him that before had been buried deep inside to the surface.
She had brought to life an entirely different John - perhaps better, perhaps worse.
Not even John knew.
But he knew what he had to do. And so he did it.
And like a prince from a fairytale, he leaned down, and gently kissed the lips of his sleeping princess.
But unlike the fairytales, Amara did not wake up.
Instead John fell to the floor. It was as if it happened in slow motion, and before anyone else knew it, he had fallen asleep once again.
Except this time, he had Amara's hand clasped tightly in his own.
And nothing was going to make him let go this time.