Dreamcatcher
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground,
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms.
(Snow Patrol – Set the Fire to the Third Bar)
The wind rushed over a blade of grass, whispering and whisteling while the daisies nodded their little white heads happily, as a boy with an enormous mob of brown hair reached the top of the pass. He was jumping through the air while followed by dozens of other children and a bunch of Digimon.
As they reached the meadow their laughter cut through the fresh air and shimmering butterflies soared upon the grass into the air with glowing wings.
He felt himself smiling warmly.
It was a peaceful moment that seemed like a well deserved happy ending to a very long story full of fights and adventures.
Until time stopped suddenly and the moment froze before his eyes. The laughter went silent and the butterflies hoverring motionless in the air.
Something wasn't right, he thought, as the beautiful picture vanished slowly. The big brown floppy hair, the daisies and the butterflies. They were all gone. Left him in the darkness that surrounded every inch of him.
Thunder rolled over his head like a hungry monster waiting for feeding, when little red dots appeared infront of him. It was the butterflies, trembling on the ground with twitching wings.
He could feel a cold flood around his ankles and when he looked down red waves of blood were tugging out for him and were growing bigger and bigger.
The butterflies drowned in the bloodstream and he opend his mouth, but no sound left his lips as he tried to move away from blood and death. But his body denied any reaction to his commands, so the stream fuzzed heavily around his waist.
He tried to hold onto something, his fingers ploughed through the glooming red and reached for a cold smooth stone. That was what he thought, but when he looked down on his hands a white blank skull stared back at him with big black eye sockets.
Beads of sweat burned in his eyes and left some shivering marks on his back, as he pulled himself up, breathing heavily. His eyes wandered through the dark room searching for something to help him get a grip on reality again. His hands were shaking as his feet touched the cold stony ground and his fingers got hold of the candle on the night table.
It was not the first time such a dream had visited him during the night. And he knew for sure it wouldn't be the last one either.
Every night he got closer to the boy with the browny wild hair and his companions. Their faces stick in his head during the day until another dream gave him more chances to get know the children at night. Before everything turned into a nightmare.
The unfullfilled wish was torturing him and the dream's happiness seemed like a bad joke, mocking and playing cheap tricks, while the laughter echoed in his mind and reality crashed down on him once more.
The flame touched the matchstick, hissing and flickering bevore its spark reached the wick. The heat of the little flame warmed his findertips while the weak light played with the shadows, drawing woozy pictures on the grey walls as he walked through the corridors.
He could hear small whispers and heavy breaths through the sheets, which divided the car park into seperate chambers, so each of them had their private place to hide from the outside.
His temples were aching continously as he followed the dark corridors. Over his head he saw a leaky water pipe where little waterdrops hurtled through the air and landed with a loud splash in a puddle where they mingled with the stony dust of the past years.
A small breeze startled the little flame as he reached the stairs which led him to a bigger room nearer to the earth's surface.
In the middle of the room was a massive oak table that was surrounded with chairs and benches. Their cushions were scuffed and faded while on the other side of the room a cupboard-row lined against the wall.
He opend one of the doors and the hinges sqeaked.
Carefully he observed the nightly silence. Their kitchen-like commonroom was closer to the surface than their chambers, the air seemed fresher and let him forget the narrow dark corridors and rooms.
But the dark was protecting him – them. Their prison deep down garantueed their freedom. It was bizarre.
His fingers reached for a glass and he filled it with sparkling water from a worn plastic bottle. There was not much left, he realized as the cold wet filled his throat and the pain in his temples vanished silently. Eleven bottles lined up infront of him and there was not much water left in any of them.
The shelves were filled with canned food they had been accumulated in the past years, but even these supplies were limited and would run out sooner or later.
And after all it was just the two of them. Taichi and Yamato.
Taichi would not allow anyone else to risk their life, not when there was still a war going on and he needed as many people as possible.
Even if Taichi and his brother were able to loot some of the Kaiser's warehouses and plantations, it was a huge risk they were taking for some packages of rice, vegetables and medicine that were usually required for the Kaiser's slaves, to keep them alive and healthy.
To keep them useful.
It was hard to accept the situation. Even after all this time, he felt a tiny ache in his chest when thinking about all the slaves out there.
It hurt as much as the dreams did.
Silly dreams, whispering of desire and hope but of fear and memories, too. He longed for freedom and the security of a loving family, not just comrads in arms, but real friends who knew nothing about death and war at all.
Peace.
But he always woke up to find himself lying in a dark chamber between broken cars and broken dreams. The cold cellars, the waterpipes all this was his reality now, after just one moment had changed everything. One moment on this particular day.
"Don't be a fool, Takeru", he mumbled to himself and pushed the thoughts aside.
The past was the past and dreaming about happy endings would not change anything. It only made the present even more unbearable.
As he passed the dark corridors once more a thin ray of light slipped out of Sora's chamber where she was probably waiting and worrying for his brother to come home safely.
Despite understanding perfectly well how she felt he ignored the urge to comfort her and kept walking.
Cautiously he pushed the curtain, an old silky veil of one of the hotelrooms, aside and put the candle back to its place and laid down on his mattress.
A bedspring was pinching in his back so he turned around to see her small shoulders in the glow of the candle.
Today she was sleeping peacfully, no screaming or punching, just deep breaths, lifting and lowering her body. Under her grey shirt her spine was showing.
His hands stroke her pale arms as he blew out the candle and everything went dark again.
He felt her body next to him. His arms embraced here tightly and the warmth of her body was calming him down, while a strand of her hair tickled his face.
This was one of the rare moments they could be with each other, truely be with each other. Because when she was sleeping, he could not see the sorrow in her eyes and the rage that was almost freezing her. It was not a hot-headed rage but a cold and icy hatred that turned her into something he wasn't sure he could love. It almost seemed like she didn't care anymore, like her coolness had emptied her heart and filled it with anger instead.
But he couldn't leave her, maybe because he was too scared to be alone or because he was used to her. And sometimes he dared to believe that there was still whole-hearted love in both of them, when they were laughing although quieter, when they were kissing although harder, when they were talking although more reserved.
In the end it was a moment like this, when he knew he just could not leave. Moments that made him forget the anger and the pain and the whole damn world.
Moments of hope.
Moments of belief.
But in this moments it was just the two of them.
And even that was not certain.
"Takeru?" He felt how her body stiffed into stone as he blinked through the darkness and waved goodbye to the moment. She freed herself from his embrace.
"What is wrong with you?", she asked warily as her hands – painfully cold hands - touched his chest and her icefingers searched for him.
"Nothing." He got hold of the fingers and they sent nasty chills down his spine. "A dream... just a dream", he mumbled and and adjusted his pillow.
She kept quiet for a while, probably not knowing what to do.
"Let's sleep", she said after a while and shoke of his hands.
He could not see her in the darkness, but he knew that she had turned her back on him while both ot them pretended to sleep.
Just if you don't see a future
(Ephemere - Hopelessly)
A/N:
Welcome to the first "proper" chapter of Funeral of Dreams. As you can see, the end of the second Adventure-season did not go very well... I wanted to use the ending as a "stepping stone" to introduce the story to you. So the dreamer ought to be Takeru (TK in the dub), as he is the narrator of the series, too. His relationship to the girl... let's say its kind of destination but very complicated and horrible all-consuming...
We follow the characters now as they are hiding – where and why? Well I'll tell you, sooner ot later. ;D
In case you have not noticed I am not a native speaker so feel free to correct me anytime!
Thanks for reading, best regards
PenAmour