Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans, and I'm still not rich enough to buy the rights.

Chapter Ten: Dream a Little Dream

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains and gradually lifted him from the fog of sleep. Jay stirred in his bed, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and slowly sitting up with a barely stifled yawn. In the slow, befuddled space between awake and dreaming, he fumbled with the sheet twisted around his waist and staggered upright in search of something better to wear than just a pair of boxers.

He still felt the heaviness of fatigue clinging to him even as he struggled to wake up and put on a discarded pair of jeans strewn haphazardly on the floor. The night before was muddled; what happened? How late had he stayed up? It felt like he'd had barely a few hours sleep. He still felt worn out, physically and mentally. Jay frowned as he found his signature sweater draped over his sleeping computer. He wasn't normally so messy.

Distant voices out in the hall finally broke him from his muzzy thoughts. He pulled the sweater on and shuffled to the door, cracking it open. The voices were louder. Theresa and Atlanta were trying to convince Herry to try granola for breakfast while the descendant of Hercules sounded like he wanted to make a six egg omelet for himself instead.

"C'mon, Herry. You should eat healthier once in a while."

"Until they make granola as satisfying as this, I'm good. Thanks."

Jay smiled, yawned, and headed out of his room. He shut the door behind him.

His first stop was the bathroom. The face in the mirror looking back at him was definitely tired, almost hung over. He had dark circles under his eyes and his gaze had a glassiness to them that definitely marked a lack of sleep. Jay splashed a little cold water on his face. It did make him feel a little better, a little more focused. Now all he needed was a cup of coffee or four.

The kitchen was empty by the time he arrived, dishes piled in the sink. He figured the girls must have given up and Herry was either in his room eating or trying to find something to watch on TV. The leader opened the fridge and frowned at how bare it was. Atlanta or Theresa must have finished the last of the milk, by the looks of it. He would have his coffee black, then. Closing the fridge with a nudge of his hips, Jay turned to the cupboards and started searching for the coffee.

"Not that one," a bland voice said behind him. It sounded slightly amused. "Second shelf, cupboard on your left."

Jay nodded to himself and shifted his search. Sure enough, there it was. He grabbed the canister and set about robotically making a pot.

The voice behind him continued. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, kid. I hate it when the girl o' your dreams gets used like that."

Humming slightly under his breath, Jay poured himself a cup of coffee and wrapped his hands around its familiar warmth. He turned and nodded to the young man sitting at the kitchen table and helped himself to another seat. The first sip was slightly too hot and burned going down his throat.

The young man rested his head in one hand against the table. He had a lazy, sleepy look about him, too. The two regarded each other in comfortable silence as Jay worked his way through his coffee.

With each sip, Jay could feel some of the sluggishness leave him. He began to notice things. He wasn't wearing socks. The Brownstone was oddly silent; there weren't even noises from the street outside. Neil wasn't hogging the bathroom. There was a man sitting across from him that he had never seen before.

The stranger seemed to sense Jay's returning clarity. A slow smile grew across his face as he watched. When Jay finally set his empty mug down and opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, the young man beat him to the punch. "Morpheus. God of dreams. Pleased to meet you, hero of the prophesy." He flashed a thumbs up as he settled back in his seat.

Jay struggled with this information. God of dreams? The man seemed quite ordinary to him. Floppy, medium-length brown hair. Flat grey eyes. Dark blue hoodie and grey sweatpants. He was of an average build and his voice was fairly bland and unremarkable. He looked like so many other students seen wandering around the neighborhood and Jay would be hard-pressed to pick him out of a crowd.

"I kind of expected more. At least that you would be overweight. All the other gods seem to be," Jay replied without thinking. "You're just plain boring." Then, seeming to realize what he just said and to whom, Jay tried to recover. "I mean, uh, sorry. That came out wrong."

Morpheus shook his head. "Nah," he said. "Subconscious tends to bypass your filters. Don't worry about it. I get it a lot." He made a broad, sweeping gesture at himself. "Wouldn't want to distract from the dream now would I? So I go with boring and the dreamer enjoys my much more colorful masterpiece." This time he made a circle in the air with a finger, indicating their surroundings.

"My kitchen is a masterpiece?" Jay asked wryly.

"Can you spin a world out of the messy ether that is sleep and mind?" Morpheus raised an eyebrow. "But fair point. This is pretty basic stuff, meant to give us a little private time between what happened and what's next."

"What happened?" The leader tried to think of what his guest could mean. But there was only fog and the vague suggestion of… something. "Wait, what happened?" Jay stifled a yawn.

"Woops, we're running out of time." Morpheus sighed. He scrubbed his hands through his brown hair in frustration then leaned forward. The flat grey of his eyes hardened into something closer to the burnish of liquid silver. "Listen, hero. You're dreaming."

"Well, yeah, I kind of gathered that," Jay muttered.

"But it's more than that. My father has put you to sleep, the kind of sleep you don't wake up from until his brother shows up and takes you to the Underworld. And considering who's tending this part of the garden, well. You know your mythology." The god's expression changed to one of sadness. "You won't leave these dreams until someone wakes you, Jay. And for your sake, I would suggest playing nicely with Selene. At least then you'll know what's going on."

Jay forced himself to his feet and took his empty coffee cup to the sink. The mention of the Titan's name made him feel sick with dread and anticipation. Something about her, something she did. What had happened? He turned back to Morpheus.

"If someone needs to wake me up, why don't you?" the hero asked.

The reply was quiet. "I can't." Morpheus sighed softly. "I don't have any power over when you sleep or when you wake again. I just fill the time in between the two. Only my father, or something outside the dream, can affect your sleep. And in this part of the garden, the only one awake is her."

"So what am I supposed to do? And this garden you keep mentioning, what is it?" Jay felt frustrated. He was used to gods being cryptic or vague, but this entire conversation was beginning to feel pointless. Here was someone who must have some way to help - the leader refused to believe a god could do nothing - but all Morpheus seemed to be doing was explaining how he was trapped, asleep, and would probably stay that way forever.

Morpheus shrugged. "Play nice. Like I said, you might win her over and she might let you wake for a while. It's not so bad, really." He shrugged again.

Jay grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. "If you're not going to help me, why show up at all?" he demanded. "Why do you gods insist on toying with us?"

"Because heroes wouldn't be heroes if they didn't have to prove themselves," Morpheus replied with half a smile. The god stood and rolled up the sleeves of his navy hoodie. The light in the kitchen flickered and died. The room was lit only by a gloomy light from the window, which was rapidly beginning to darken. "Anyway, I should be going."

"Wait, what's happening?" The sky went completely black outside as Jay watched. The darkness began to creep in through the window and from where the light had died in the ceiling.

"I'm collapsing this dream. Time you returned to your regularly scheduled fantasy." Morpheus strolled to the doorway that Jay had entered from. He paused, looking back at the hero thoughtfully.

As the dream continued to dissolve around him, Jay tried to get his thoughts in order. "Wait, what about the garden? What is it?" He wanted anything the god could give him, even if it would be just another aggravatingly vague hint.

Morpheus had a half smile again. The room was breaking around them both. Noise was beginning to filter in, sighs and dreamy moans that sounded too loud to Jay. His own heart was pounding in his ears. "Where the winds blow," the god answered. "Where you go to forget, or be forgotten. But most of all…"

There was a rush, a roar, and the ceiling broke apart to a black sky dotted with faint, distant stars. Jay struggled to hear Morpheus' last words but it was lost in a blast of wind as the last of the Brownstone faded and the god vanished. The dreamscape wavered and then settled, leaving the leader in a new setting. He was on a hill. It was late. The soft rustle of trees blowing in a stiff breeze surrounded him and he could see the far-off glow of city lights to his right.

"Jay?" The voice was behind him.

Jay turned and she stood behind him, hair blowing gently around her face. In spite of himself, Jay could feel his thoughts blur around the edges. He smiled as the Brownstone faded from his mind for the time being. All that mattered was the here and now, and her.

"Theresa," he said in reply. He opened his arms to her and she came to him. She was warm and smelled faintly earthy, like the grass and trees on a summer night. The redhead lifted her face to him and Jay leaned to close the gap. The kiss was soft and sweet.

As they parted, sharing shy smiles and coy glances, Jay couldn't help but think this felt familiar, like déjà vu. Theresa pressed herself against him and they kissed again. A flush ran through his body pleasantly even as a small part of himself doubted what was happening. He remembered something about a dream.

"Jay," Theresa whispered into his ear, "please." He looked into her eyes, dark with longing. Gently, she pulled him down to the soft grass. He embraced her and she sighed into his shoulder with a smile, glancing up at the round fullness of the white moon overhead.

oooooo

Here we are again, friends. I know it's been too long, but for those of you still here: thank you.

There's not much to this chapter, really. We know there's another god about - Morpheus - and whoever his father is that's putting Jay to sleep. And hey, there's something tying wind and the garden and isn't that the title of this thing? Neat.

Once again, I can't promise you when the next chapter will come. Sooner or later, I hope. I may even rewrite this thing at some point to make it feel a bit more cohesive considering all the long gaps mean my writing style changes here and there, plus I'm probably missing details to things I've already written.

Still, thank you for hanging in there and hopefully, in the long run, I won't disappoint.

Next chapter: The lone hero or the reluctant priest. Who will it be?

Suggestions/preferences for next chapter are welcome anytime.