The Devil's Dream
I've never gotten used to not sleeping in my own bed. The master bedroom was Gregory's, not mine as Tobias, but it's where I belong. Annie sleeps there now because she was my last wife. Olivia sleeps in one of the guest rooms when she makes it to bed at all anymore. Sometimes I hear her at night, talking to herself. Sometimes I'm there in her drunken ramblings, sometimes Sean, or Caitlin is back. Most of the time it's about me.
"Gregory would have been so pleased to see me now, wouldn't he? So smug, so dammed full of himself. He'd laugh and say this is where I was always bound to end up because this is what I am. A useless drunken fool..."
And then she gets angry. Sometimes she breaks things. I can hear the glass smash against the wall. Rose cleans it up in the morning. Putting the bottles of liquor in the trash, setting out water and aspirin, and cleaning up anything that's broken makes her room look normal again. But no one can do that for Olivia's life.
Her children are gone. Even the angelic little boy who should have been mine. I'm dead to her. I'm not there to pull the vodka from her hand and remind her that nothing in her heart is worth drowning with this much alcohol. There's something wrong this time because she's never fallen this fast before. She drank when we were together, but never this much, not this often. She was more discreet. Hell, Olivia still had a life. I can't remember her leaving the house this week at all.
I'm used to her being angry. I could listen to how she hates me, Cole and herself all night. But crying tears at my heart. i shouldn't care. I should ask to move to a different room, but I love being this close to her. The wall between our rooms is thinner than I've ever realized. When she leans against it I can hear her breathing if I put my head on my side of the wall. Sometimes I sit there, listening to her pour her heart out and fill the empty space with liquor.
Tonight she's crying. Not the terrible wracking sobs that come from over indulgence and the kind of depression that only sinks in when she's intoxicated beyond reason, but weeping. Soft weeping, quiet consuming pain that won't be dulled by alcohol. No matter how many times she fills her glass.
I lie in the dark, waiting for her to tire and go to sleep, but she won't- or can't. Olivia's tears continue and the weeping grows in intensity instead of slowing as she passes out. I stare up into the blackness of my ceiling, feeling the pillow firm beneath my head and the sheets soft and cool around me. My body's comfortable, tired even but my mind won't let me rest.
When I roll over I find myself facing her wall. My costumes on the chair in front of the door. The latch is drawn shut and locked. That way I'll have the time I need to get into costume before anyone catches onto my secret. The night is my own, the time when I'm just Gregory. Maybe that's why she fascinates me so when I lie in the dark. Olivia is a fascination of Gregory's, a weakness of my heart that I can deny when I'm being someone else.
She's talking, but for once it's too soft for me to hear it. Curiosity wins over the desire for sleep and I creep from my bed. I lower myself to the floor in the dark and listen. It's a morbid fascination to be sure, but I can't stand not knowing. I'd never admit it, but I miss sharing her bed. Listening to her mutter in her dreams and letting her cling to me when they turned to nightmares was something I loved about the night. Twenty years of listening to her breath and feeling her movements make our bed creak beneath her made her a habit. I spent half my life by her side. Perhaps it shouldn't surprise me that I'm so driven to be near her now.
"Gregory-" She whispers as the rustling her nightgown hints at her wiping her face. "Oh darling..."
It's me. I've never been the subject of one of her breakdowns before. What was it she told Tobias? The way she laughed bitterly and said I was cruel and that Tobias didn't really know me. He wasn't married to me so he could never understand.
Could it really have been that bad?
She's crying too hard for anything she whispers to be intelligible now. Olivia must have focused on the bad. It doesn't hurt to miss my cruelty or the ice in my veins that kept us apart. Tonight she's honestly grieving. I've heard her tears like this before and the cold knot of pity in my stomach reminds me that she'll be crying until she passes out from exhaustion.
Maybe she shouldn't be alone. What harm could it do? She's drunk, she won't even remember me being here. Olivia wouldn't believe herself if she did.
After all, Gregory Richards is dead.
I leave Tobias' slippers behind, feeling the cool of the floor beneath my feet. Annie never comes up to the third floor. It's amazing how freeing it is to wander the hallways of my house as myself again. Living in the shell of Tobias makes me forget what I am. What I want.
I turn the doorknob of Olivia's room slowly, taking care not to frighten her. It's not until the door is open that I realize she wouldn't even have heard me knock. Her head's down on the bed, her dark blue nightgown spread in a pool around her bare feet. Her hair's a mess, tumbling over the shoulders her nightgown's left bare. The strap's falling off her skin over her left shoulder, and it hits me that she's still so beautiful. Even at her worst, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Dreams are better left silent, so without a word I cross to her, grateful I wore the guilty pleasure of my own pajamas tonight. I wouldn't want to be the psychiatrist who has to explain why the ghost of her dead husband came to her in a dream wearing his uncle's pajamas.
I lean down and smooth the unruly tangles of her hair. It rustles under my hands, sliding over the curve of her head. It takes her a moment to look up, most likely a testament to how much she's had to drink. She's surrounded by so many ghosts at the moment, what's one more?
When she finally looks up at me, she's too exhausted to care that I'm a ghost. Too weary to care that I shouldn't be able to touch her hair. Too lonely to realize that I can't help her to her feet. Olivia falters and as I wonder what the proportions of grief, liquor and exhaustion are in the haze clouding her aching blue eyes.
"You're dead." She whisper finally and the words echo as numbly as her pronouncement through the still air of her bedroom.
I've lied to much to her to lie again. "I'm here."
Olivia shakes her head at me slowly, not bothering to contradict me. "You're not cold."
I cup her face, feeling her tears soak into the skin of my hands. "That's a surprise for once, isn't it?"
"I'm dreaming." Olivia tries to pull herself away from me, but she can't. Without our children she's desperate for a connection, even with a ghost.
'What if you are?" I tease as I run my thumb over the soft skin covering her cheek bone. "It's a long time until morning."
There's wanting in her eyes, and her lips glisten in the weak light from the window. "Don't remind me."
"You don't have to be alone." I offer as I lean in to kiss her forehead.
She crumbles, the kiss was the last drop of water the fragile dam on her emotions could hold. Her knees buckle against mine and I catch her arms. Olivia breathes in as if she's trying not to drown. "You're just a dream."
"Maybe you're better off that way." I explain with my stolen honesty. "You know a dream's going to leave you- but it can't hurt you the way I did."
Olivia fights out of my hands, dropping her head to her hands as she sits on the corner of her bed. "You think just because you're a dream you can't hurt me? You're still Gregory-" The tears are back and demanding to be set free. Her voice is as shaky as her hands as she waves me away. "Gregory and I can't help hurting each other. We've caused each other nothing but pain!"
I grab her hands and pin them to the bed. Her eyebrows flash up in surprise and I can't help wondering what her dreams are usually like. What would Olivia want me to say so badly she'd never hear it anywhere but in her mind?
"But we belong together." I run the tip of my tongue up her neck and wonder what Olivia's dreams are usually about. "You know that."
"We belong together all right." What's left of her resolves blows away as she sighs and lies back on the bed. "You're my punishment. It wasn't bad enough that you divorced me and moved on to Annie, now you're going to haunt me for sleeping with Cole and having his baby. I never, never meant to hurt you." Olivia explains to the ceiling before she sits up again and rests her chin on my shoulder.
"Am I going to see you when I'm awake too?'
I turn and crush my lips against her cheek. "Do you want to see me?"
Olivia sighs into the kiss and runs her hand up my back in the way no one else has ever mastered. "That's the question isn't it? Do I want you?" Olivia grabs my hand and runs it up her stomach with the kind of moan that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "I've only ever wanted you. It's just-"
"That I didn't want you."
"And as soon as you did it was too late." She moves my hand up to her breast and smiles as I close my fingers reflexively over it, cupping it as the promise of intimacy runs through us both. Olivia kisses me and I taste vodka on her lips. Vodka, tears and expensive perfume. At least her hair is safe. Her nightgown rustles as she pulls her legs up to the bed.
"Tell me you hate me. Tell me it's my fault my children are gone." She demands as she lies back on the bed again. Her hair spreads out beneath her head, dark against the pale gold sheets. "Promise me you'll meet me in hell."
Her legs stretch out over my lap as I curl up next to her. Olivia closes her eyes as she waits for my response. "I love you."
Her cool fingers trace lazy patterns through the neckline of my old red pajama top. "What kind of answer is that?"
"The one I should have given you more often when I was alive." I lower my head to her chest and explore the valley of her breasts. She raises one of her legs, brushing across my waist with her knee as her nightgown slides upward to accommodate the movement.
"I need you to hate me." Olivia whispers as her gaze bores into my eyes. "Hate me as much as I hate myself."
I kiss the corner of her mouth as she finishes her request. My left hand runs up the skin of her leg and dances around her unbent knee. "I forgive you."
Olivia grabs my head and crushes our lips together, using her tongue to search for the truth in my mouth. "Don't."
"Why?" Her eyelashes are damp as they flutter against my cheek. "Because you want me to punish you? Liv-"
A sob catches in her throat. No one else has ever been allowed to call her that. Not even AJ. "Just don't forgive me." Olivia pulls her other leg up and waits for me. "Because I can't. I can't forgive myself."
Finding the skin of her inner thigh draws a prolonged gasp of wanting. "Maybe you can forget." I move my leg over hers and feel her hip press against my stomach. I slide the other strap of her nightgown off her shoulder and try to remember the best way to take this one off. "Just for tonight."
Olivia cups my face, trying to convince herself through the alcohol that dulls her sense that I'm here. "Make love to me."
Talk is a waste of valuable breath best spent elsewhere. My fingers find the silken cord that binds up the back of her nightgown. One pull and it's starting to give way, but it's the kind of crisscross system that takes a little teasing to come all the way undone. My shirt is more cooperative. It's so old the buttons simply pop out of their positions. Her nails fly across my chest as she brings them around to my back and digs them in.
Even though I'm the one who's supposed to be dead, she's the one who feels like a ghost. 'Tobias' will have to remind her to take better care of herself. Her lips are cool as they nibble down across my ear. Her cheek's still wet from crying as it slips past my own. I pulls us apart on the pretense of bruising her mouth with another kiss. New tears are fresh on her lashes as she looks at me, and the extent of Olivia's grief surprises me.
I never saw cry for me when I fell from the pier. I was too caught up in my schemes and my insane desire to recreate the world the way I wanted it that I never realized what I had. What I threw away. I roll us over so Olivia's above me and start stripping off her nightgown. She freezes up, suddenly shy as she pulls away to sit on the edge of the bed.
I kiss her shoulder and work my way down her arm, but she crosses her arms over her chest and sits there, trembling slightly in the chill night. "What is it?"
She starts to speak but her voice fails. I wrap my arms over hers and hold her against my chest. "Liv, you can tell me."
Stilling shaking her head, she can't look at me. Even in her 'dream' she can barely admit whatever is bothering her. Olivia finally reaches back to touch my hair, making sure I'm still with her. "We haven't made love since Trey was born."
I laugh softly, remembering the heat of the elevator and how delicious she tasted then. "We were close."
"But we didn't!" Olivia gets up suddenly, swaying a bit from the alcohol as she backs away from the bed. "We haven't. You're dead and I'm dreaming." As I stand up she hits my chest with both clenched fists. "I can't..." Olivia crumbles again because she doesn't have the strength to continue her anger. "I've tried so hard not to love you."
I strip my shirt from my shoulders and wrap it around hers as I lead her back to bed. "I'm sorry."
"You're a ghost." She laughs a little, reassuring me that she still remembers how to do that.
Shrugging as she drops her head to my shoulder, I run my fingers through her hair and resign myself to spending the night holding her. Even that, after all this time, is a victory I never thought I'd see. There's something to be said for the ease with which she slips into my arms and the way her head falls against my chest. How many nights have I spent holding her? How many moments of thought have Olivia as their axis?
Without noticing it, I start to hum softly, rocking her and forgetting the mess that our lives have become.
"Trying to forget about you-" Olivia breaks out of my arms and turns on unsteady feet to contemplate me sitting on her bed, my hands resting lazily on the blankets. "Is a waste of my time. I've never been able to forget you. You're always with me." She tightens her grip on my pajama shirt and looks down at the fists covering her heart. "You're in here and I can't get you out, no matter how hard I try."
"What about AJ?" I can't resist asking while there's a chance she'd tell me the truth.
Olivia's made up her mind, and she drops my shirt to the floor. The nightgown's falling off her generous breasts and she couldn't make me want her more if she tried. "He's not here." She slips in between my legs and kisses me deeply enough to pass her feelings through to me. He's not in her heart. Only I am. "But that's our little secret." She drags me to my feet, reaching for the drawstring of my pajama bottoms as she smiles shyly.
"You can't tell him."
My pajamas drop to the ground with the swish of old cotton. Standing naked in front of her has never felt more comfortable. Olivia doesn't bother to look me over because she already knows every centimeter of my body. I catch the edges of her nightgown and wait for her nod to peel it from her skin. It's been too long since I saw her body and I feel that rush of protective warmth run up from my toes as she slips beneath the sheets of her bed.
"AJ's not worth haunting." I tease her as I rediscover the warmth of her flesh. My hands move their way up over the curves of her hips and settle into the softness of her stomach. "If I was trapped on earth, I'd want to be with you."
Olivia ends the conversation as she insinuates her tongue into my mouth. She leads me over her body, crushing her breasts between us even as I slip my hand down to her hips. Parting her legs to allow me access, Olivia moans and reminds me how glorious it is to be loved and cherished by someone. The skin of her thighs pulses with life beneath my fingertips, and I wonder again how I survived when I slept alone.
Her hands run down my back and then up again to pull my head closer. Olivia writhes as I run a teasing finger over her. I bite into the soft underside of her breast and run my tongue over her nipple as I dance across to the other, Her panting just edges me onwards and I part her legs as if I'm ready to join her, but instead I continue to tease. her nail digs into my shoulder hard enough to draw blood, but I'm loving every moment of impatience in the way she rolls her head on the pillow. One of her cold little feet runs up the back of my leg and she grinds against me in a desperate plea to be released from the madness I'm driving her to.
I lick down her stomach and flick my tongue across her just enough to earn a groan of wanting from her throat. Olivia grabs my head and pulls it back up to her breasts as she locks her feet around my lower back. She's hot, and nearly too tight as I slide within her. She gasps but her eyes insist she's all right. My wife finds her breath as I amuse myself with the nerves lining her collarbone. Olivia rocks her hips tentatively before trusting me to take over.
Even her breathing seems nervous, almost as if it's the first time. I can still hear her scream of release that day so many years ago in the backseat of my car. Trembling as I bury myself in her, Olivia keeps her eye open and locked on mine. I usually can't focus on her because her gaze is too intense but tonight I owe her. Olivia's the one who has to wake up to reality of my death. The sensations of my body fade to become secondary to the fire in her eyes.
What she wants- what she needs from me is my only purpose for continuing. Her breath is my own, the sharp intake of air as I run wicked teeth over the soft skin of her side. She breathes faster and I move faster, her heart pounds against my chest and I run teasing fingers over her to draw another groan. Olivia closes her eyes but her eyelids flutter open again because she too can't look away. Her pupils swell, eating the delicate blue of her irises as her breath grows harsher in her throat.
Her latest tears are lost in the sweat on her face, swept up in the heat of her skin as her 'dream' takes over. Olivia shudders beneath me and I tilt my hips to the angle of best penetration. She gasps in pain and I pull back, remembering it's been some time since we were together.
"Gently." She advises with an apologetic smile as she bites back the wince of pain. "It's been awhile." I don't even have to ask about AJ. I remember how surprised she was the first time we made love. How surprised I was that she wasn't a virgin because our first time was so careful. I'd never made love with such consideration before. It was the first time I really cared beyond knowing I could make a woman happy while pleasing myself if I did things right. But Olivia was worth the extra time and the insanity that comes from patience.
I had never wanted like that before. Never known the addiction or the connection that came with it. Olivia knees brush against my waist and she nods slowly. I kiss her, thanking her for sharing the warmth of her body. The tears are slowing and I catch the hint of a smile as we break our lips apart. I can't help wishing she'd laugh. I love the way she laughs. I explore her breast more tenderly, reminding myself that it might be a long time before I have her again. Tobias certainly doesn't spend his time in the beds of beautiful women.
Next time I have a disguise, I think I'll be more of a player. She tightens around me and I spend a moment wondering what how much fun it would be to fall in love with her all over again. To earn my way into her heart only to find the space full of myself. There's no doubting that now. It's in her face. In the way her lips are hot against my chest.
Heat burns through me and leaves a tingling sensation in my head. How long has it been since I made love? Perhaps I should worry more about my own endurance than hers. Olivia cries out as I reach down to touch her again and at least we're in the same place. We're young and unsure, but old and hurt too many times to trust each other speaking. But our bodies know. My hands know better than my mind where to tease her. My fingers find the dimple on her lower back and dig into the soft skin and flesh of her back.
Arching against me as she explodes within, Olivia arrives just before I do. She shudders and the moan becomes a cry of surprise as she shudders through orgasm again. For a moment we're in limbo together before I let go into her. I stead of taking my time, I roll off her and pull her into my arms. She curls into my chest and trembles there, letting go of the grief she hasn't let herself deal with. How many times did she tell Bette she had to be strong for Trey? How many times did she tell AJ she was fine?
"It's all right sweetheart." I whisper finally as she runs her hand slowly over my chest. "You're going to be fine. You don't need me, remember?"
Olivia laughs but it's the wicked little laugh that doesn't believe me. "I lied. I don't want you to go. I didn't want you to go then and I don't want you to go now." She sniffs back old tears and I use a corner of the sheet to dry her face.
"Maybe I'm not going anywhere. Hell's not nearly as interesting as you."
That earns the real laugh, the one that lights her up like a starry night. "Is that so?"
"It is so." I promise as I kiss her and write the sensation to memory. "Hell is rather dull compared to life with you."
Olivia laughs and nibbles the side of my neck. "I don't know if that's sweet or cruel." She studies me, tilting her head like a cat. "But I never do with you."
"I'm sorry-"
She consumes the apology along with what was left of my breath as she pulls my soul out through my lips. "But you loved me. I will always, always remember that."
Settling down into my arms, exhaustion finally wins out and she's asleep in a few minutes. I can't join her. When the sober light of day comes into her window I have to be gone. Ghosts have no place in the daylight. My watch says it's only just past two. Four hours left to hold her and dream my own dreams. In the morning I'll have all the time in the world to wish they were real.
