don't stare at my nightmares {abe}

[thejokerlaughsatu]

Nathan shoved through the crowd, completely unaware that it was parting around him. For all he knew, he could be shoving past these people. They weren't even real, nothing that could hurt him, and he was no longer terrified to touch any of them. His body couldn't feel in dreams anyhow, even if he'd been emotionally destroyed all over again; he could punch one of them in the face and never know that he'd made contact, except that he would see them fall... and oh, how satisfying that would be. His body ached to run back and hit them, one or both, it didn't matter, to see his mother's shock and her boyfriend's outrage, which was exactly what they deserved for abandoning him.

He soon found himself back on the beach, though he didn't notice until the rough path changed into sand beneath his feet. He slowed and paused outside of the town, far enough away that he couldn't hear any of the townspeople's conversations. Abe's shape was a vague blur down by the water, but Nathan didn't head back yet. He needed a moment to calm down. After all that he'd heard, he needed to think.

If this really was a dream, then he could control everything around him. Why, then, was he putting himself through hell? His father's death; his mother's sudden appearance, only to reaffirm her distaste for him; if he hadn't known better, he would have said that Abe was putting all of this in his way on purpose, just to further torture his new toy. But Abe couldn't have known any of that. Sure, he could have guessed that seeing his father dead would upset Nathan, but nobody knew about his issues with his mother. He hadn't even told his father. By then, the man had been shipped off for another stay in the mental hospital, and Nathan's mother and her boyfriend were his sole caregivers. His father was most likely still unaware that his son wasn't at home with family.

Finally, he walked back to Abe, a scowl already in place. It only deepened when he heard the other boy's words. "Shut up," he growled. "I've had enough crap from you. Tell me how to get out of here. Now. No dodging it, or I'll dream a train right on top of you."

((It's all good, I'm a patient person. <3))

[abraham kip winters.]

Abe looked immediately dissatisfied with Nathan's reaction. He looked wistfully away from him and at the empty space in the air above and to the left of them.

"I dunno..." He said, "This has hardly been the therapeutic experience I had hoped for you..."
So Nathan had witnessed his father's death, been thrown onto a skiing range from a hundred thousand feet in the air, landed face-first in the sand, and then, to top it off, a little domestic turmoil to complete the evening. He'd been through a lot, and now Abe could understand that he would want to leave. He had been given his last chance. He was a fair person.

When he looked back to Nathan, his expression was, for once, solemn.
"Alright." He replied, "I can send you back. But will you do me one favour?"
He tilted his head in a manner that he had seen other people express in situations where they wanted to convey sympathy. He hoped he was getting it right.
"Remember what you've seen. I know it's none of my business, but you've clearly got some issues, and there are always people you can talk to. And also, even though tonight the experience has been a little traumatic, don't be put off dreaming."

There was a door. It was plain and white and stood a little distance behind Abe, just beyond the reach of the waves as they flowed up the shore.

"Remember that." Abe said, even though he knew Nathan would probably remember nothing of this dream after a few startled minutes in the waking world. Even the most poignant of revelations in dreams had the habit of slipping away after a few moments. He didn't care to wonder how many life lessons were lost because the dreamer simply couldn't recall. Quite soon, Abe would be nothing but a curiously familiar stranger to Nathan. When he crossed him in the halls, he wouldn't recognise him. Maybe he would recognise the idea of him, but that was something totally different.

The suited dreamwalker shuffled over to the plain white door. He laid a hand on the doorknob, which was the colour of gold and glistened magically in the beaming sunlight.
"Beyond here is reality." He notified him, "As soon as you pass through, you'll wake."
He turned the handle and opened the door. There was a distinct lack of anything visible from this side. Not the sea, which should have been visible through an empty frame. Not a blank white space or even a specific darkness. A rare and perfect nothing.
"And if perchance you ever want to try again one of these nights, or if you get into a sticky situation," Abe mentioned in closing, "Just call my name. You'll remember it when you sleep. I'll be there."

He had managed to sustain his serious expression for this long, and now he watched Nathan silently and held open the white door and waited for departure. He felt like apologising, but that was not something he was in the habit of doing. Instead he simply waited.

[thejokerlaughsatu]

Finally there was a door. Nathan would have sighed in relief at the sight of it, but he was too busy glaring at Abe. He didn't want these worthless words and reminders of this dream; if anything, he wanted to get out of here and forget that any of it had ever happened. Perhaps the bit with his mother could help him later, if he ever needed to file charges for parental abandonment, but seeing his father die would do nothing but hurt him further. Nathan hadn't been allowed to see his father one last time before he'd been sent back to the hospital; for all he knew, his father could be dying, and he wouldn't know it.

"Why would I try to stop dreaming? It's not like I can control it anyway. If my mind decides I'm going to dream, then I dream." Nathan stepped forward and examined the door for a moment, keeping his eyes away from Abe. He didn't want to remember him when he slept; this was the sort of person that he wanted nothing to do with, the sort of person that would take advantage of his vulnerable mind and manipulate further dreams for even more personal enjoyment. If Nathan could forget everything about Abe, forget that he'd ever been in this dream, forget that the dream had ever happened, then he might be a little more content.

Finally, he stepped through the doorway. He hadn't trusted it at first, but there was no other option. This had to be the way out. Even if it wasn't, and Abe was lying to him... well, he still couldn't die in a dream, so falling into nothingness wouldn't be so bad. Would it?

[abraham kip winters.]

Abe made no attempt to reply to what Nathan said before he passed through the doorway and into the land of the waking. If he hadn't listened to what he'd said already, there wasn't any point in adding anything.

When the other boy was gone, he closed the white door behind him. Making friends, he fancied, was difficult. Most people, upon his approach, seemed a little off-put by his particular way of doing and seeing things, but before long they would notice that he meant no harm, and that he was a good person. He just couldn't get through to this Nathan fellow. Oh well. There was nothing to stop him from dropping in on him some other time and trying again. Though he would have to look out for falling trains if he did so.

Sticking his hands back into his pockets, the dreamer began to make his way back up the shoreline of the beach. This was the one problem with dreams - while you were here, you were completely separated from the waking world and all its laws; laws of physics and reality, yes, but also of time. It was, as far as he knew, impossible to tell what time it was and when he would have to wake up. Nathan might have just woken up at two AM, or seven AM, or perhaps later, though he probably had an alarm clock so he didn't have to worry about that.

Stopping, Abe gazed out across the crystal blue sea he had conjured. He stared at the horizon for a little while, and decided that he did, indeed, have time for a visit to another dreamer. With a smile, he reached out a hand and lazily clutched at a passing nightmare, and then he was gone. After that the beach began to leave too, having served its purpose. The sea brought itself closer in to the shore, and the buildings of the town started blinking out one by one. Finally, the stretch of sand that went on for miles began to roll up on itself like a gigantic carpet, and then that, too, was gone.

-Exit-