SPOILER ALERT! This scene was meant to have occurred shortly after Elle discovers Dick's secret life as Nightwing. It comes as part of the Bond - something that the readers of "Last Chance" are aware of. I'm not sure why I didn't add this. I have a vague memory of having something else occurring that this might have detracted from. Anyway, here it is . . .
Last Chance - "Sympathetic Dreaming"
Warning: Slightly Disturbing Dream . . . Rating "T" (just in case I forgot something)
Elle curled up on her bed with the comforter pulled up around her head with only her nose sticking out. The temperature dropped a lot last night and now she was regretting not buying that electric blanket she had seen at the store. It was funny that she could dive in freezing water without being cold, but cold air chilled her right down to the bone. Okay, maybe more ironic than funny . . .
Well, she regretted the blanket earlier and found it ironic hours ago. As of that moment, however, Elle was sound asleep; dreaming happy dreams that she would likely not remember come morning. The cold was affecting her though because she was curled up in a fetal position rather than spread out and comfortably taking up two-thirds of her queen bed as was normal.
Winter sucked . . . Dick liked winter. He wanted to take her sledding and make a snowman at the park while Elle dreamed dreams of sandy beaches in the south of Italy, Jacuzzi tubs, hot chocolate, and roaring fires. She dreamed she was sitting in a beach chair soaking her toes in the Mediterranean Sea with Dick squatting in front of her holding an ice cube to the tip of her nose. Elle pulled the comforter over her face. Dick stayed in the dream, but the ice cube went away after a little bit.
He was smiling at her as the water lapped around his calves. He tried to talk her into ice skating. He was holding out the skates to her when he gasped and dropped them into the water. Elle climbed out of her chair and touched his side. A bright red line appeared in his side between his ribs. When it started seeping blood, Elle stepped back alarmed.
"Dick, you're bleeding," she cried.
He winced in pain, but ignored the blood as he walked back onto the beach. He started building a sand castle with a moat, but the blood was flowing heavier and dripping into the moat and filling it up. Elle was horrified. She kneeled down beside him and helped him build towers. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop building the castle despite how much blood he was losing.
A sharp pain stabbed her, and when she looked down, Elle found that she, too, was bleeding from a cut in her side. Exactly in the same spot as the cut in Dick's side. Her wound began to seep until it was flowing just as heavily as his. The moat filled up and overflowed. She jumped back because she didn't want the blood to get on her, even though her entire left side was drenched. She turned away from the sand castle, intending to wash the blood away in the water only to discover that the entire Mediterranean Sea had turned to blood and was washing up on shore and turning the sand dark red. It swirled around her ankles and she screamed.
Her scream woke her up, and Elle sat up in a panic; throwing the covers off of herself.
Oh God! What had sparked that dream? Worse, why didn't the fear and panic recede now that she was awake?
She looked around her, but it was obvious the man wasn't there! Was he still out? Did he go home to his apartment? Unable to relax; her anxiety ramped up to unbearable levels, Elle grabbed the phone and punched in his number. The vise around her heart grew with every unanswered second that passed.
It was just a dream, she told herself. It didn't mean anything! So, why couldn't she make herself believe that? Her fingers knew what she was doing even before her brain did. The cab service answered on the second ring.
She had promised Dick that she wouldn't go looking for him. She had meant it at the time, but faced with the certainty that something terrible had happened, Elle couldn't sit still. She threw on a thick sweater and some ratty, old jeans; sliding her feet into a pair of tennis shoes as she grabbed her keys and cell phone off of the table.
She wasn't going to endanger herself, she swore. She was just going to drive around a bit . . . until she grew tired.
Grabbing a jacket and scarf, Elle didn't even pause long enough to lock her door before running down the stairwell. It was three o'clock in the morning! Nothing good ever came of being out at three o'clock in the morning!
Dick had better be dying, or she was going to kill him!
Oh God, what if he were dying?!
Elle rushed out of her building and jumped down the front steps. It was quiet out, and the only sound heard was the slapping of her tennis shoes as she raced toward the corner to catch her cab.
She really needed her car back!
I do know that had I actually used this, Dick would have been so mad at her. ;D
