Hi, all.
I have only recently begun re watching Medium after a hiatus and this story is something that has been in my mind for a while now.
Note; This is set around season 2-3.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MEDIUM OR ANY OF ITS AFFILIATES, THIS IS MERELY A FICTIONAL STORY RELATING TO THE SERIES.
Note: This story will divulge into some things of a sexual and violent manner as it goes on. There will be appropriate warnings at the beginning of each chapter if that is going to be mentioned.
Chapter 1 - Early Morning Routine.
In life there always moments that make you stop and put things really into perspective. What sort of mark will I leave on this earth if I get taken away from it before my time? Will anyone remember me for anything except for how I died? Would anyone remember me for my life more than my death? For a lot of people, this is not something that they want to think about, and they likely never will. But for others; these questions can come along at the times that you never expect it. Like when you take an extended bathroom break to read through nonsense in newspapers and magazines, when you're waiting in line for your coffee or even when you get in the car after a particularly long day at work. But have you ever had these thoughts forced onto you in literal dire straits? Like, laying in a wrecked car on in a pool of your own blood after being shot or stabbed? Yeah…me neither. But if what I have seen is correct, it will occur to me in about 6 hours when I'm lying on the floor with blood seeping out of my back…
The feeling of shooting awake was not one that Allison Dubois was unfamiliar with. Whether it be a sudden thunder storm (Which in Phoenix Arizona was rare enough), her husband Joe arriving home late from work or one of her three daughters standing at the edge of her bed staring at her with the same blue eyes that adorned her own orbs; the feeling of being short of breath and the Whoosh of the air moving through her as she sat up in bed was not something unfamiliar. Tonight though, or rather this morning as she spied a look at the fuzzy red letters on her alarm clock, she felt her heartbeat ringing in her ears as she sighed heavily and lay back down; the soft warmth of her pillow soothing her almost instantly. On instinct, Allison reached her hand out next to her to touch her husband of 16 years, Joe Dubois, on the hip. Joe grunted something Allison didn't understand but still reached for her hand in his drowsy state.
"Mm…" He grunted again, giving her hand a squeeze. "Are you okay?" He asked. Like Allison, the sharp intake of air to his side and the shifting in his bed was nothing Joe was not used to. But regardless of how many times he heard and felt it, he always allowed his wife to reach out to him for comfort. After all, he figured, he could always go back to sleep. Allison on the other hand was likely to be awake for the rest of the night without his comfort. With a heavy sigh, Allison allowed her eyes to close as she fell back against the mattress, wriggling ever so slightly to cuddle into Joe's side.
"I guess so…" She breathed, nuzzling her head into Joe's armpit, and draping her arm around his chest. "Just a dream… a weird, odd and creepily realistic dream."
"Do we need to do anything?" Joe's question was quick, almost rehearsed. It brought an odd sense of calm to Allison that Joe always asked if there was anything more that needed to be done when it came to her dreams but if there was one thing, she knew in the time she had known Joe; it was that no matter what he would do what he could to put Allison before himself and keep her safe.
"No…" She sighed, casting a look over Joe's chest at the green lights of Joe's alarm clock. 6:45. "Damn…kids will be awake in about five minutes." She tapped her hand on Joe's bare chest. "Wanna join me in the shower before the kids get up?"
The sensual suggestion caused Joe's eyebrows to rise and his eyes to shine. There was nothing more that Joe loved than to have sneaky intimate moments with his wife. Even if it never led to anything sexual, just having the feeling of Allison's warm skin under his with the hot water pounding against the back was sometimes all he needed to both calm his anxiety and awaken a feeling deep in the pit of his abdomen that only Allison was ever able to draw out of him. "Hmm…" He hummed, kissing her temple. "I can think of nothing more enticing than that…" He moved his lips to meet Allison's, both of their eyes closing at the contact. At his own accord, Joe's left hand rested at Allison's neck and the other rested at her side as he felt their lips dance against one another. A soft breath escaping Allison caused Joe's hand to move from her side to her lower back, pulling her ever closer to him as she felt her heartbeat pick up in her throat. Moments like this were getting fewer and far between, but whenever they were able to sneak time together, she always felt like the drunk college sophomore he had swept off her feet that night in the dingy bar. Reluctantly, Allison's keen sense of hearing caused her to pull away as if almost on cue, their bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a rather loud 'doof'. Joe jumped, pulling away and sitting just as his wife had done seemingly moments before. The oldest of the Dubois daughters, Ariel, stood with her hand on the door handle and the other on her hip.
"Dad!" She almost screeched. "Bridget told me she used my toothbrush to clean the bathroom floor and it looks different from when I went to bed! So, I know she cleaned the toilet with it."
"I didn't really use it…I only thought about it." Bridget, the middle child, called from the second bathroom in the house.
"It's still gross that you would even think that you freakazoid!" Ariel yelled back, turning briefly to face her parents. "Can't we just get rid of her?! She's making me crazy!" She demanded, the 12-year-old fighting every urge in her body to not stomp her foot on the soft carpeted floor.
Joe grunted, throwing the sheet back and reaching for his t-shirt. "Alright, alright…" He sighed, pulling it over his head as Allison followed suit and reached for her dressing gown. She wouldn't change anything that she had achieved in the world, but she did wish her first and second born got along just a little bit better. "Ariel, there's a spare toothbrush in the drawer," He leaned out the bedroom doorway. "Bridget, don't touch things that don't belong to you!" He called in a tone of voice that didn't leave any room for argument or persuasion and walking towards the kitchen. With a sigh, Allison opened the door of her closed and fished out a plain black button up shirt, black slacks, and a dark blue jacket. Even though her phone hadn't rung from the district attorney's office, she figured the best way to prepare for the day was to be dressed in case. And if not, she at least would look like she had her life together when was dropping her girls off at school and day-care. Straightening up after picking up her boots, Allison felt a shiver go down her spine as she sat back on the bed to dig through her sock drawer. Ariel stayed standing in the doorway, watching her mother almost like a hawk.
"Mom, are you okay?" She asked, almost hesitating to move. Allison looked up and smiled wordlessly. Not convinced, Ariel felt her eyes grow wider in concern. "Did you have a dream?" She asked.
"I'm okay, honey, I promise," She reassured, gathering her clothes in her hands, and standing. "I just want to have a shower and wanted a slightly longer sleep in… I'll feel better after a shower." She reassured. Ariel felt herself smile and wrapped her arms around her mom's middle, allowing her head to rest on her mother's chest in comfort. There was something that Ariel could not shake, a feeling of impending doom or worry. She couldn't put her finger on what was causing it, but she had a very strong feeling that something bad was going to happen on this specific day. With a roll of her shoulders, she stood and headed towards the bathroom; hoping the hot water would be sufficient in waking her up before her coffee.