This one's for lithiumflower56, I couldn't get the possibility out of my head, though it did take awhile. (though I think I chopped up the idea a bit—sorry for that) And if this is a bit all over the place and odd, I'm sorry for that one as well. I literally did write this at Two in the morning.

As for this, I'll give you a hint and say that there are two possible outcomes, but I'll leave you to figure out just exactly when this happens. . . .

X. All Just A Dream

"Mu . . ."

"Shh—don't speak, Murrue." She shook her head slightly.

"Mu . . . I'm . . ."

"No!"

There she lay, pale and frail before him, lain out on the bed. Her amber eyes were wet, and so were his—though he couldn't notice. The hand that held hers tight shook, his voice coming out as only a whisper for he couldn't force anything more than that. A shaking, tearing whisper.

"No, Murrue. . . . You're not . . . It's not . . . I . . ."

She reached to touch his face, bone cold fingers lightly tracing his jaw.

". . . love you, Mu . . ." His wife surprised him pulling his head down to connect their lips, but all he could taste was her blood.

And then . . . She dropped out of the kiss.

Shocked, Mu stared down at her limp body and peaceful face. Truth hit him, and Mu couldn't possibly hold it in anymore.

Tears began to stream from his eyes, burning his skin like the acid they were as they trailed across his face. He couldn't stop the shaking that began to rack his body as his hands gripped her cold, limp, dead one for support.

It was cold. She was dead.

Who knows how long he cried. Who knows how long he sat there beside the bed. Only God knows. But to Mu then, God wasn't there.

A crashing sound then brought the man to his senses after all that blank time. He looked up only to find his young daughter standing in the doorway. She began to cry, but the look in her russet eyes remained wide and stricken as tears ran down.

He had shouted her name in surprise, as Mu felt all the blood in his body fall away, leaving him pale, as that girl began to cry harder.

Her voice came out in a choked whisper.

" . . . Mama's . . . ?"

Everything drained from him then. He couldn't breathe. Everything went black.

Flecks of thoughts and memories rushed in pieces through the blackness, dizzying all.

---

"Mama's dead."

He broke the wedding frame. It could be fixed.

". . . love you, Mu . . ."

She felt so cold.

"Have I told you how much I love you today?"

He held her closer.

"I'm pregnant."

There was a cure. . . . It didn't work.

"I promise nothing will happen to her, 'kay?"

There were tears and flowers that day.

"I-I'm sick. . . ."

Roses.

"You came back . . . Just like you said you would."

Her favorite.

"Mama said you'd be gone for a long time. . . . How long is a long time, Daddy?"

People were there.

". . . especially since you're already going to be a father."

Everyone was there. Everybody.

"I do."

Evi wore red.

"Want to dance?"

Matt cried.

"Marry me?"

Mu barely said a word.

"I love you."

He saw it again.

She dropped out of the kiss, falling limp beneath him. He could still taste her blood on his lips.

She was dead.

And it was his fault.

---

He woke up. Screaming.

Mu gasped for needed air though each breath seemed to sear at his lungs. He writhed himself into sitting upright, legs and arms still jerking as they stayed caught in the thin sheet around him. His eyes stared hard and wide as they wildly glanced about the darkened room.

Nothing was there. It was all the same.

And he was alone in the large bed.

Slowly his breathing came back and his body stilled, though the harsh crashing of his heart against his ribs could still be felt. His blood pulsed pounded through his ears, never letting up in its savage pounding, it seemed. With each rushed breath, Mu could feel how sticky his body was, chilled by the sweat that lay plastered over every inch of tanned skin.

Slow breath by slow rasping breath, reality returned to him. Eyes dropping to the pale sheets, he ran a thick hand through his disheveled mess of hair. "A . . . dream . . . ?"

He began to murmur, realizing just where his headache came from.

". . . Murrue . . ."

"Yes?"

Shock at the sound coursed its way through him, jolting the man straight for the second time. Though the room was dark with night, Mu could still see. He could see the doorway—open—and he could see someone silhouetted against the pale moon's glow of the kitchen window.

Murrue.

She held a mug out in her thin fingers.

"Mu, are you alright?" She cocked her head, taking a step forward, only to pause in her advance. Her voice both soothed and chilled. "What's the matter?"

But he couldn't answer her. Mu couldn't seem to get his lungs working. His chest was too tight. His mouth just hung open, crystal eyes staring back at her blankly. She slowly made her way closer, swiftly shifting her way across the cold floor.

"Mu . . . ?" Her voice faltered, slightly, the worry and care easily resounding in the soft tone. He kept himself straight in bed, mind trying to wrap around what his sense told him. As he tried to function, Murrue quickly made her way closer and sat herself on the edge of the mattress beside him.

Her eyes searched his face. Even in the darkness, she could tell how pale he was.

"Mu, what's wrong?" He kept silent, eyes staring back. Inside Murrue was shaking in fear, but to him she was still so smooth. "Please, tell me."

Nothing.

"—Did you have a bad dream, Mu? Is that what's bothering you?"

Murrue expected Mu to answer her.—It was just the thing he would do. Or, if there was no answer, he'd always at least grin back a response. Or laugh.

But there was none of that. Silently he blinked at her, not even moving. Murrue just smiled and kept on despite, turning her thoughts from him to herself as she leaned closer.

"Hmph," she grinned, biting at her lip. "Look at me, I'm a mother already. . . ." Murrue mumbled softly to herself as her fingers came up to lovingly travel Mu's pale, sweat glistening face. Her action was supposed to calm him.

But, instead, it scared her.

When her loving fingers came, Mu shirked away from her touch. He wouldn't let her touch him. The look he sent her chilled when he forced himself from the bed and backed away. His crystal eyes never left hers.

Murrue stared back, eyes wild in frozen confusion. She didn't move.

Mu realized only fleetingly how smooth his steps were, no soft limp taking his care. . . . But other things were occupying Mu's mind as he took one more step back.

He studied the woman once more.

She still sat on the bed, hands coupled around the mug cradled in her lap. And she waited. Mu took another step back, blinking his wide eyes, still trying to make sense of what he was before him.

She seemed so real. Was his mind tricking him?

His eyes scanned the room once more. Everything looked the same. But was it? Then his eyes dashed across the dresser and it's always full set of frames. Odd . . . some were missing. No, some subjects were missing.

Mu's dark blue eyes focused themselves on her again. She still sat there.

And then he finally found his voice. It cracked.

"But—But what about Evi . . . ?—And Matt?"

". . . 'Evi'?" Her head cocked. "'Matt'?" She tried to grasp the names, but her mind pulled up another reason. Murrue sighed. "Oh, Mu . . . Did you exhaust yourself looking up baby names again?" She softly shook her head, light smile tracing her lips, amber eyes melting at the idea.

"What . . . ?" He blinked, deflating at her words, familiarity striking him. His head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing in thought.

Murrue grinned. He was coming back to himself. She recognized the familiar lookin his eyes.

A gentle laugh played with her voice.

"I've told you. There's plenty of time for that.—I'm not showing yet, am I?" Murrue suddenly uncurled a hand from her mug to pull at her night shirt. She then cautiously touched at her stomach, trying to find the knowing bulge she didn't expect.

Mu kept silent. He kept staring as she checked herself.

Murrue sighed, not finding anything. "See? Now come sit." Glancing back up again, Murrue swallowed her gasp. She had caught his blue eyes boring into her—but they weren't as before. There was something else hidden in them then, a cold confusion or fear. But now . . . those eyes seemed to caress her gently, they stared almost as if in awe, but more.

Though confused, she couldn't help the light pink that tinged her cheeks in the darkness. Mu could do that to her. Her own eyes found her lap, and the mug resting there.

"You want some?" Murrue offered sweetly, holding up the cup. "It's only water."

Mu blinked himself to attention. He then silently took the mug she passed.

Though he was certainly thirsty and could feel the dryness grating his throat, Mu didn't drink. Instead he just passed the water on to rest on the bedside table beside, only to be forgotten.

He sat down beside her himself.

After nearly pushing her away, Murrue was surprised in his coming closer. And those awed eyes hadn't changed.

". . . Mu?"

He stared at her once more, but this time his gentle eyes also flickered in quizzical interest. He surprised her when he brought his own hand up to her face, closing the distance between their touch.

When his fingers caressed her cheek, they were his eyes who started to dance. They started truly sparkling when he began to stroke her thick hair. And yet he said nothing to answer the burning question in her eyes.

And then the words of his racing yet numb mind appeared quietly on his lips.

". . . You're . . . real . . . !"

"—Of course I'm—" She froze. Even the unrivaled smile on his tanned face couldn't hide where his words were coming from. Murrue reached up and took his hand in hers, bringing it down off her face.

". . . Mu . . ." Her softer tone and questioning eyes dimmed his . "Mu . . . What kind of dream did you have?"

The emotion of his smile dropped, yet the motion kept to his face as he began to laugh. Mu began to laugh, short, empty laughs.

"I-I don't know." He grinned at the idea. But then his hand came up to palm the side of his face, feeling the sticky sweat that still held there. Any hold he had left as his eyes drained. Mu leaned forward, hands moving to hold his face as they were propped up against his knees.

Mu tried to laugh, but it came out wrong.

"I . . . I don't know. . . ."

In the darkness of their bedroom, Mu and Murrue sat together on the side of their large bed. He was leaning forward, face hidden by hands and thick hair. She sat beside him, dark hair tousled by the night as she watched him, emotion swirling in her ambered eyes.

"Mu?"

He didn't look up. He didn't move.

Murrue's hand moved to touch at his shoulder, but even the lightest touch from her hand sent him rigid and staring at her again. Her hand began traveling his stiff back reassuringly as her voice came out in soft croons. Unfortunately Murrue knew enough of unpleasant dreams to know how long it truly took to wake up from one sometimes.

"Shh, love. It was only a dream. It's over now. Everything's okay."

A shared moment of silence.

"But it was so real. . . ." He mumbled, deep voice quivering. Murrue's eyes widened then narrowed understandingly. It was rare for the man to be shaken, and yet there he was, scared.

She wanted to ask more, but her mind forbid the questions. Mu didn't need those. He needed something else.

Murrue's hand slipped up to cup his cheek in her thin hand. Carefully, she turned his trembling gaze onto hers. Ever more carefully, she shifted closer.

"No. . . . This is real," she whispered as her lips caressed his cheek. Mu froze yet melted at her touch. Familiarity coursed through him.

Murrue climbed up to her knees on the bed only to wrap her arms around Mu's neck. She then firmly kissed him. Not on the cheek as before, but square on the lips. Affectionately, lovingly, tormentingly as she teased him.—Though she really didn't have to.

He was already lost in his reality.

The two slowly fell back onto the bed, Murrue still wrapped about his torso, pushing him down beneath her.

When their bout of kisses ended, Mu lay out on his back, Murrue curled up next to him, sleep pulling her closer away. Her body fit perfectly against his, the warmth she gave off practically intoxicating.

She stifled a yawn, nestling her head closer into his chest, soft brown hair tickling his skin. As they lay there together peacefully, sleep began to grace them both.

It was perfect.

All except one thing.—Mu was still being so strangely silent. Did it all still bother him so much?

"Mu . . . ?" He could have answered her, but if he did, she didn't hear. Instead Murrue just nuzzled herself closer as his fingers lazily grazed her skin, sending chills. She smiled, utterly content. "About our first child. . . ."

He stiffened oddly beneath her touch.

First? He was lost.

Murrue went on, face tainted with a heavenly smile.

"What do you think it'll be?—Boy or girl?"

"—Girl," Mu answered without thinking, voice oddly cracking. Murrue blinked at his throated response, smiling at his voice. She shifted her head so she could look up into his eyes without moving away from his steadied breathing. He was looking back down at her. Their eyes met and held.

"Girl, hm?—An adventure." Her amber flashed. ". . . But what makes you so sure?"

Mu blinked. Everything suddenly just seemed to click. It had seemed so . . . unreal before, but now everything was so natural, so clear. An old familiar grin found his lips, deep familiar chuckle resonating from his throat.

"How am I so sure?" His eyebrows arched, leaving Mu to peer down at her, condescending laugh to the blue. "I just am."

He softly kissed at her fingers, bringing them to his lips from the hand he still held them in from before. Murrue snuggled closer.

Peaceful sleep took them both away.

Except it was time for another day.

AN: yeah, I know, Mu's a bit out of it (and Murrue). I warned you this would be odd, right?