Chapter Fifty-nine

Erin bites the end off another french fry but doesn't really taste it. Her senses have shifted, molded from five separate factions to one commanding force, concentrated behind her eyes to focus on the sight of the man sitting across the small table.

She doesn't smell the loaded cheeseburger that Rick is devouring. She doesn't hear the flurry of activity from the nurse's station out in the hallway, or the light patter of rain against the third floor window that shrouds the sunset in dusky gray. She doesn't feel the cold plastic of the Propel water bottle as she lifts it to her lips to wash down the fries. But she sees each wavy strand of dark hair that curls across Rick's forehead, the prominent cleft that splits his chin with an adorable little divot, the curve of his sensuous lips as he grins in modest humility through the outrageous tale of his dream, and the bright light in the beautiful blue eyes that are gazing back at her with cerulean tenderness.

He is charming and thoughtful and sexy as hell, especially now that he has traded his hospital gown for street clothes. Dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and a light gray tee shirt, with the emblem of a small police shield covering his heart to boast his department in King County, he looks as commanding as he does in his full uniform, which Doc Morgan informed them would be staying in his closet for several more weeks while he continued to heal and regain his strength. With the news that he wouldn't be released from the hospital for at least two more days, Shane had taken pity on him and offered to run by his house and pick up some clothes, something that would restore some dignity during the last of his stay. And dignified he did look. He'd insisted on showering and shaving before Lori brought Carl over earlier, and with his dark hair combed back and jaws razor clean, he looks a bit thin but fresh and fairly healthy.

Erin will never forget the look on Carl's face when he saw Rick sitting up in the chair, wide awake and smiling brightly. She'll never forget the expression of pure joy she had seen on Rick's face as well, hugging the boy fiercely as Carl cried in his arms. She could see Rick fighting his own tears, happiness fused with relief, as if his son had been the one in danger of being lost forever.

She'd left them to have a nice long visit while she took care of some personal things, and counted every minute before she returned with their dinner from Five Guys. Now she continues to absorb every syllable as he wraps up the wondrous story of their fight for survival during a zombie apocalypse.

"And then I woke up here," he finishes with a nervous look after swallowing the last of his dinner. "So now is the part where you tell me what a lunatic I am," he says with a forced laugh before taking a sip of his own water.

She'd stayed quiet throughout his recounting of the dream, hanging onto every word without making a sound, even when she'd wanted to jump in at the parts that she knew he'd edited greatly. Unless she is wrong and he did not have the exact same dreams, sharing an extraordinary bond full of passion and promise. But after five weeks of living with him inside her head, she knows him well, and she knows that with every glance down at his food or beyond her shoulder, he was keeping the memories of their tender times to himself. "Wow, that was a crazy dream," she agrees, and then moves full steam ahead before the blushing flutter in her belly can change her mind. With a witty grin and a playful spark in her eyes, she says, "And can you imagine how completely insane it would sound if you'd dreamt of us making love in the water at the bottom of that quarry, or the two of us getting it on against the railing on a balcony at Tybee Island?" His eyes widen as his pale cheeks darken to a warm crimson, but she doesn't let up. Reaching across the table, she gently glides a fingertip across the back of his hand and continues, "Or licking coffee cream off of each other at your grandfather's cabin, or handcuffing me to the headboard in a bed and breakfast hotel? Yeah, that one I wasn't too crazy about at first…" She rolls her eyes with the misty memory of being held captive. "But in the end you made up for it, didn't you." She nods her head with a sinful gaze of wanton lust that deepens his rosy cheeks to a lovely shade of scarlet. Mission accomplished.

"Oh my God. How do you know?"

"Because I was there, honey," she says softly, grinning around the lump in her throat. "Everything you dreamed, I dreamt it too. And maybe we just met here in this room today, but I know you, Rick. And you know me, better than anyone ever will."

Moisture brightens his eyes as he tilts his chin, like she'd seen him do so many times before in her dreams. He lifts his wrist to link their fingers and presses his palm to hers, the breath of his soul seeping into hers through the warmth of his touch and the love in his gaze. Squeezing her hand, he exhales deeply, a fount of emotion in his expression. "You're my wife."

She nods as tears spill from her own eyes. "And you're my husband."

He smiles brightly, chuckling through his tears. "How is this possible, Red?"

"I don't know, sheriff. I just know that every day I'd come to work and I couldn't get through my shift fast enough so I could come up here and sit with you. Every day I'd walk in this room and wonder, is today the day? Will he open his eyes and look at me?" She swallows hard and chokes on the tears that are thickening her throat, her voice breaking with profound emotion as she whispers, "Will he know me?"

He rises from the chair as quickly as he can manage with the stitches in his side and pulls her into his arms. "How could I ever forget you?"

She buries her face in his chest and wraps her arms tightly around his waist. "I'm so glad you didn't."

"Christ I'm so glad you waited for me." His arms tighten around her shoulder blades as he crushes her within them. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to you." The husky gruffness of his words rumbles low against her ear. "Thank you for waiting for me."

She nods her head, rubbing her cheek against his chest and inhaling the scent of him; the heady aroma that she knows so well. "I'd sit with you for hours and just watch you lying there, watch your chest rise and fall with the beeping of the monitors. I'd mention the dream we had the night before and pray that you would respond."

"And you remembered it all?"

"Most of it, yes. Some parts were hazier than others, but my feelings for you were always there when I woke up. The fears would fade quickly when I recognized my bedroom, but the memory of our time together would stay with me." While the horrors of the dream would linger briefly and then dissipate within moments, she had always recalled their lovemaking in vivid detail. When she held him close in her dreams, she would try to keep him close upon waking, closing her eyes and holding onto him until he became just a memory once again, her body losing the whisper of his skin upon hers. And then she would count the minutes until she could get back to the hospital to see him again.

"I'd hate to leave you," she says, her fists clutching his shirt at his lower back. "But at the same time, I couldn't wait to get home and go to sleep so I could talk to you, hear your voice and see your blue eyes looking back at me." She sniffles softly as he rubs soothing arcs across her back. "And when I'd wake up in the morning, I would replay the dream over and over in my head so I wouldn't forget it. I was afraid that maybe you weren't sharing the dream with me, but then I knew – I just knew, that you were. Especially after we got married under the big tree. I brought in the bandana with the rose and I swear you moaned when Morgan was teasing me about it, but he said he didn't hear anything. But I know I did, and I was sure that you knew what it meant, and you were thanking me for it."

"I know what it means, sweetheart. And I love it. Thank you."

"The last sponge bath I gave you, I was so tempted to use the bandana, thinking that maybe it could be the trigger that woke you up."

"I gather you didn't use it?" he asks and she nods again. "But I do like the idea of you giving me that sponge bath." She can practically feel the wide grin against her hair and her flutter beams blissfully, deep within her core.

"Oh God, you don't know how hard it was to keep my hands from wandering all over you. I mean, I knew every inch of your body underneath that hospital gown." She slips her hands beneath his shirt now, feeling the warmth of his skin at his back. "But I had to keep it professional, you know? Imagine me trying to explain that to Morgan; Uh, yeah, it's a new technique to revive coma patients. Got to get in there real close and personal, give them a reason to wake up," she says in a pseudo-stern voice that begs to breathe authority.

He chuckles against her hair and then she feels his lips press lightly upon her temple. "Well, the next time you want to give me a bath, I promise I'll stay awake for it."

"Mmm, next time it won't be in here with all my friends around, that's for sure."

He chuckles again and squeezes her tightly. "Shane said you would play chess in here, moving my pieces as well as yours. Tell me honestly now, did I ever win?"

"Yes, you did actually win once or twice."

"Took pity on me, huh?"

"More like a bribe. But it didn't work."

"Why not?"

"You didn't wake up," she replies sadly, recalling all the times she had begged him to open his eyes.

"I never was any good at accepting bribes. I'm so sorry I put you through that, honey."

"It's okay. It brought us together, right? We found each other. Who knows if we ever would have gotten together if you didn't get shot and drag me into your dream." Her warm smile is full of forgiveness as she burrows deeper into his neck.

"I would have found you one way or another, dream or no dream."

She looks up to meet his gaze, and finds that the sincerity in his eyes is as deep as the faith that lives in her heart. She has no doubt in her mind that they would have found each other somehow. "I believe you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You're just one of the miracles in my life that I'll never quite understand, but will be eternally grateful for. I wasn't supposed to live to see seventeen, but here I am. You came to me in a dream once, and kept coming back until you made me fall in love with you. I don't know how it happened, but I'll be forever thankful that it did."

"Well, just to be clear – you made me fall in love with you first. I didn't stand a chance," he says softly as he strokes her cheek with a tender thumb.

"Was that the first day in the hospital? When you saw me with the drunken rabbit? Or the first dream at the quarry?"

"Definitely when you assaulted the Easter bunny." He laughs around a huge grin, and then his mouth softens to an intimate smile. "I thought to myself – now that's the girl of my dreams… and then you were."

When he lowers his chin, she meets his lips with tenderness and trust; giving her heart for him to hold as their souls come together, filling the fissures in each other with a boundless love that was forged in the mist of a distant dream.

...

After waiting five long weeks of one-sided conversations filled with restless pleading and lost promises, she can hardly believe that she is actually crawling into the bed with Rick; her dream lover who is alive and awake and warm and wonderful. He is weak in body but strong in spirit and alluring as ever. And in her heart, he is her husband.

Carefully tucked into his side, she lays her head upon his chest as he pulls the thin white blanket up to cover them. With visiting hours long past, the floor is particularly quiet with most of the patients asleep under the watch of the small nighttime crew. She had brought in one of the large chairs they have for family members who wish to spend the night with their loved one, but he had insisted on sharing his narrow bed, and she couldn't resist the temptation. "You better tell me if I'm hurting you at all, Rick."

"You're fine, don't worry." His arm tightens around her shoulders as he kisses the top of her head. "Mmm, this is the best medicine, right here."

She glides her fingertips slowly along the warm skin above his bandage, softly stroking the dark hairs spread lightly across his chest. Her bare foot moves up over his shin until her knee is resting against the hem of his boxer shorts, her thigh lying across his in the same cozy way that she'd snuggled into him so many times in her dreams; holding each other in the lusty darkness of the midnight sun and through the lazy haze of slow dawning days. With his heart beating strongly beneath her hand – and without the accompanying beep of the monitor that had chirped continuously throughout her vigil – she relaxes into him as the memories of medicine and monsters fade away, leaving them with only the soft sighing of each other's peaceful breathing in the quiet room. "This feels like it's our first time together, and not our first time. You know?" she says as her heart beats a slightly nervous rhythm, excited to be lying with him, but anxious that nothing had been lost in the ether between dreams and reality.

"Yeah," he replies softly, sounding slightly nervous himself. "We've never actually been together like this. But I swear I know your body as well as I know my own." His hand slips over her shoulder to the curve of her breast, drawing gentle arcs against the thin cotton of her red tee shirt. He doesn't wander too far, keeping his small circles at the side of her bosom as if waiting for an invitation, unsure of how far he should go on his own. Rolling her shoulder back, she covers his hand and tugs it down until her nipple is stretching into the warmth of his palm.

Her body responds as quickly as it ever had in her dreams, the flutter in her belly dancing at his touch as he caresses her chest. The anxiety she feels now is not built on the fear of disappointment, but composed of the excitement of being held in his arms with the promise of his love in every intimate touch. "You do know my body, Rick. Just like I know yours." She slides her knee upward until it is resting against his manhood. "I know just where to touch you."

"Mmm… and tomorrow you can prove it," he moans softly as his hips rise slightly, his body responding as quickly as hers had.

"You mean the day after." Fighting the urge to slip her hand inside his shorts, she ignores the pleading of her little flutter and returns to his chest to finger the short hairs above his nipple. She lowers her leg to a safe distance from his groin as his hand moves back to her shoulder, thankfully following her lead in keeping this innocent until they can enjoy a little more privacy. "You know Morgan isn't going to release you for a couple of days, no matter how much you beg."

"Fine, I can wait. As long as I get to hold you like this," he says with a light kiss against her hair. "And whenever I do get out of here, we'll need to spend a lot of time alone together..." His voice drops to a soft sensual timbre but she also hears a trace of amusement in his tone. "Getting to know each other, since, you know, there are probably lots of things I don't know about my wife, right?"

"Like the knack she has of being right all the time?" Erin replies, grinning into his chest.

"Or how she just can't resist the temptation to argue with me – all the time," he says, squeezing her shoulder hard.

She giggles beneath his grip, imagining all of the future arguments she has to look forward to. And all the tender moments in between. "Or how much she enjoys long baths, big beds, and huge bowls of butter pecan ice cream."

"Ooh, yeah we are definitely gonna have to get to know each other better before our actual wedding."

"Is that a proposal, sheriff?" she asks softly, almost shyly as her cheeks spread into a smile that forgives him for five long weeks of painfully endless days.

"Nope. Just stating a fact, ma'am," he says in a plainspoken tone that she imagines him using when asking deviant drivers for their license and registration. Then softly, quietly, in a tender tone that calls from his heart to hers, he adds, "The proposal will come when I'm healthy enough and back on my feet… so I can sweep you off yours."

She lifts her chin and presses her lips to his jaw, a breath of devotion against his razor-smooth skin. "I'm going to work so hard on getting you back on your feet, honey." He turns his head and she meets his lips, sealing her oath with a kiss. "And when they do release you, do you think we can take a ride to the cabin? I've wanted to see it so badly."

"That sounds like a perfect first date for a couple of newlyweds. And think of how much nicer it'll be this time without having to worry about a monstrous apocalypse. We can just relax and take the time to really enjoy ourselves."

"With refrigeration!" she cries, recalling the afternoon they had spent there in the dream. "We can actually use real whip cream this time!"

He laughs hard and then emits a slightly painful groan. "Ow."

"Oh, sorry! I'm probably crushing you. " Concerned, she starts to pull away from him but he tightens his hold to keep her from leaving.

"No, you're good." He pulls her back down until her cheek is resting upon his collar bone once again. "I'm fine, baby. We need to plan our trip to the supermarket on the way to the cabin."

"Okay. What will we need besides Cool Whip?" she says, tracing the shape of a heart over the one beating a little quicker inside his chest.

"Condoms."

"What? Why?"

"So I don't get you pregnant. After what happened the last time, Red, I'm not taking any chances."

She rises to her elbow to find his gaze in the darkened room. "But Fate is going to have its way no matter what we do, honey. It'll either happen or it won't. If Tori was meant to be, which I truly believe she was, then that means the condom would only end up breaking."

She hears a heavy sigh filled with shadows of anguish. The misery in his voice splinters her heart when he says, "I feel like I just got you back. I can't lose you again."

"You won't. We'll know what's going to happen so we can warn the doctor ahead of time. He'll be prepared well in advance."

"No, Erin. I can't go through that again."

"We can't deny her existence, deny her our love. She's our daughter, Rick."

"What if she takes you away from me again?"

"Then that was meant to be too. And you will love her enough for the both of us."

"Christ, Erin, please don't-,"

"But that's not going to happen," she cuts him off before the misery in his voice pierces her soul. "You are not going to lose me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because when I hemorrhaged in the dream, I fell into a coma because you didn't have the equipment to save me. That won't be a problem now."

"Maybe that's true but-,"

"It is true, honey. And maybe I won't even hemorrhage at all this time." At the cynical smirk he gives her, she quickly continues, "Okay, maybe I will, but it won't kill me. Not here. Not this time."

A slight shift in the air and his expression softens. After a moment or two… he smiles. Not a huge happy grin but a small display of agreement at least. He nods his head; a final gesture to accept the incredible dream that had been created from a nightmare. His smile widens. "Not this time."

"Not this time," she echoes, stroking his cheek with a gentle thumb until he cradles her head and pulls her down. He kisses her hard, putting all the power of their love behind their challenge against Fate. When he finally loosens his hold and they are both struggling to catch the breath that was caught in the whirlwind between them, she rests her forehead to his as her future shines bright in his eyes.

"You see, Red… you just couldn't wait to argue with me."

"Always."