~Two weeks later~
Ichabod lay in bed, sleeping on his side. He felt a delicate hand touch his back and wrap around to his bare chest. Instinctively, he held it to his heart. A soft voice breathed in his ear, "I need you, Ichabod." He looked up and saw Ms. O'Connor's face above him, gazing softly into his eyes as her hair brushed his shoulder. He glanced down to see she was wearing a very thin cotton dress, held up by two small shoulder straps. The material clung to the shape of her body in such a way that it caused him to lose his breath for a moment. He turned himself toward her, and lifted his hand up to her face. She leaned into his palm and breathed slowly in, then out as her eyes closed. He guided her face down to his and they touched softly; cheek to bearded cheek, nose to nose, lips to lips. He kissed her gently yet passionately, sucking lightly on her lower lip. They kissed again and again. His tongue found hers as her fingertips softly moved up and down his back, giving him a shiver all over. His fingers moved from her face to the nape of her neck, where they lightly tangled in and tugged on her hair as his mouth more deeply mingled with hers. He felt her breathing become heavier as her fingers pressed harder into his back. He nuzzled into her and kissed just below her ear, which elicited a lovely breathy "aah" from her. He took in the sweet scent of her hair and her skin as his tongue and teeth lightly grazed the soft flesh of her neck. She grabbed his shoulder, pulling his body closer against hers. "Ichabod..." she whispered.
He put his mouth to her ear and responded with a throaty "Mmmm."
"Ichabod..." her voice began to sound odd.
"Ichabod..."
He stopped. What's happening?
"Ichabod..."
Katrina?
He found himself standing in the woods, wearing only the shorts he wore to bed. It was night. Dark and shadowy figures skittered through the trees, making unintelligible noises.
"Ichabod..." Katrina's faint voice called out again. "Ichabod..."
He whipped around, trying to pinpoint where her voice was coming from.
"Let….go!" She was saying more than that, though most of it was indistinguishable. The combination of the whisper of the wind in the trees, the noises of the nocturnal animals and the strange footsteps and voices in the shadows was deafening. He could only make out one of her words here and there.
"Katrina!"
"You...destroying...please...my heart...let ….go…...need you...beg you...to let...go…."
"Katrina! I will not let you go! I will NEVER let you go!" he screamed, at the top of his lungs, spinning around. "Where are you? KATRINA! NO!"
He found himself sitting up in bed again, tears in his eyes, with that feeling of Katrina being torn from him. He tried so hard to remember what happened in the dream, hoping if he could remember he could at least try to deal with it. He was not that fortunate. He couldn't take it any longer. Something had to change. The lack of sleep and the stress had him feeling ill and weak. He wasn't eating. He was losing weight and getting headaches. He was having trouble concentrating, focusing. It was time to set his pride aside and ask for assistance before he completely fell apart.
When Abbie came to pick him up that morning, he wasted no time. He slumped into the passenger seat and said, "Miss Mills, I don't believe I can do this anymore. These dreams...I can no longer function. There have been so many advances in the study of the body and the mind since my era. Is there anything you know of that may assist me?"
"Finally!" Abbie says with relief. "I have had this in my car for over a week now, but I had to wait until you were ready to accept help." She hands him a book. "Lucid dreaming. I think it's your best shot of figuring out what's going on with you and dealing with it."
He flips through the pages. "Dream consciousness. Yes, I had heard of something like this. Aristotle, I believe."
"Well, over the past two hundred years there have been a lot more studies on the subject. With some work you should be able to train yourself to know when you're dreaming and gain control of what happens in the dream."
"Fascinating..." He flips through the pages. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Once again, you have taken care of me."
"Don't worry, Crane. One of these days I'm going to need you to return the favor. You owe me a few by now. I'm keeping track. "
"Noted. You know that I would, of course, help you in any way I am able."
"I know. Listen, if you need any help with this you tell me, OK? I need you healthy, Crane. We have some evil to conquer and I'm not doing it by myself."
"I will let you know if I require your assistance - your additional assistance. Thank you again, Miss Mills."
Ichabod read the entire book that evening, and when he was done he continued to research the subject on the laptop at the cabin. He was fascinated and hopeful. This was going to be the answer. He learned that his eidetic memory was very beneficial to him in achieving his goal. It was his assumption that the first time he had the dream was the only time that Katrina was actually there speaking to him. He was having the subsequent dreams because his mind was still trying to comprehend her message. He did hear it, he just has to 'find' it. The closer he got, however, the more apprehensive he was about actually hearing Katrina's words.
"Let...go..."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He spent the next five days preparing. Dream journals, tracking sleep patterns, reality checks over and over... "Am I awake?" "Am I asleep?"
He was ready.
Ichabod lay in bed, reciting over and over what he wanted to dream about, as instructed. "My beloved Katrina. Come to me tonight."
He fell asleep on his side as usual. The dream replayed. Julie came to him. "I need you, Ichabod." He looked up and saw her face gazing softly at him. Her hair brushed his shoulder. This isn't right. He glanced down at her dress. This isn't real. He turned himself toward her, and lifted his hand to her face. This is a dream, he said out loud to her.
He woke up. Bloody hell. It's alright, Crane. This was expected. Until you are used to being awake in your dreams, the realization could cause you to actually wake up. Oh...dream journal. The sooner I write in it, the more I will remember. He grabbed the pen and paper he now kept by his bed. 'Julie,' he wrote. Julie? Why was I dreaming about Ms. O'Connor? What was I dreaming about her? Damn. It's gone.
He went to sleep again, trying to summon the Katrina dream. Once again, Julie came. The hand. The face. The dress. This is a dream. He only thinks it this time. He puts his hand to her face. You're not real. She leans in to his hand. You feel real. Time for a reality check. Crane takes her hand in his, not realizing that alone is him controlling the dream -changing it in a small way. He focuses on her fingernails, painted a soft pink. Change to red, he thought. He closes his eyes for a moment then opened them. They were red. Yes!
He wakes up again and immediately grabs his journal. 'Julie. Ms O'Connor was in my bed.' He can't believe what he is putting on the paper but he remembers as he writes. The details about her hand...voice...hair... dress...Why am I not having the Katrina dream? Then it occurs to him. This WAS the Katrina dream. He just has to stay in it long enough. Then come the horrible thoughts. Katrina knows. She knows about what happened with Ms. O'Connor and is furious. She wants me to let her go because of what I did. Dear God, no...
He sleeps once more, asking for the dream about Katrina to present itself. He knows if Ms. O'Connor comes, he will have to let the dream play out to allow Katrina to make her appearance. He hoped it didn't go too far. He felt enough guilt already.
She leaned into his palm and sighed as her eyes closed. He guided her face down to his and they touched softly; cheek to bearded cheek, nose to nose, lips to lips. He knew it was a dream. He kissed her again and again. Their tongues. Her fingertips. This is wrong, but necessary. He felt terrible that he didn't hate what was happening. He wrapped his hand in her hair. Deep kisses. Heavy breathing. Her fingers in his back. He wanted her. He needed his Katrina but at this moment, in this dream, he wanted Ms...he wanted Julie. He nuzzled into her neck. He could smell her and taste her. This is so wrong. Where is my Katrina? Julie grabbed his shoulder, pulling his body closer against hers. "Ichabod..." she whispered.
"Mmmm." He responded.
"Ichabod..." her voice began to sound odd.
"Ichabod..."
He stopped. What's happening?
"Ichabod..."
Katrina?
He was in the woods. Thank God. He heard the deafening menagerie of sounds, and Katrina's soft voice somewhere in the mix.
"Ichabod..."
He whipped around, trying to pinpoint where her voice was coming from.
"Let….go! Destroying...my heart..."
"Katrina!"
"Please..let ….go…...need you...beg you...to let...go…."
"Katrina! I will not let you go! I will NEVER let you go!" he screamed, at the top of his lungs, spinning around. "Where are you? KATRINA! NO!"
Wait. Focus. You are in control. He picked up a rock. "when I open my eyes, this rock will be an apple." It worked. I AM IN CONTROL. "I need to see my wife! I need to see Katrina!"
"I am not here, Ichabod… only…voice…..reach you…."
"I cannot hear you! I can't understand! " Whispers, wind, garbled voices, blocking hers.
CONTROL. "Silence. Silence! SIIIILEEEEENCE!" His voice seems to echo back to him from the trees. But then….Quiet. He did it.
"Katrina?"
Silence.
"Oh, no." Did he silence her voice as well? "Katrina my love?"
"Ichabod…"
"Yes, my darling! I can hear you!"
"Let…go…me….please…."
"NO! Katrina!"
"I need you….let…go….for me…"
"What are you saying!?"
CONTROL, Ichabod. "What. Are. You. Saying."
"Destroy…need you…let….go….for me….no…."
"Again! CLEARLY!" Afraid to hear.
"My poor Ichabod! You are destroying yourself! You need to let it go. I need you to let it go. Please Ichabod! I know of your moment of weakness and you need to let it go. Forgive yourself as I have forgiven you. I know I have your heart as you have mine! Please, be well my love! I need you! I need you to come for me and take me from this place! Please! You will come for me, I know you will! But you have to let it go! Please!"
Silence. Relief. Let IT go. Not let HER go. He sleeps.