The DreamWalker Series

Curse of the Dreamwalker

Nothing had changed. If anything, the only notable difference was that he was beginning to lose muscle. It made her ache to see him wasting away like this. He'd been wiry, sure, but not thin, not weak. She massaged his scarred and calloused fingers, caressed his hand. If he could feel her, she knew that this gesture would remind him of her, of their connection. The buzz and beeps of the equipment, the sounds of the staff in the hall had become familiar and almost comforting. With a heavy sigh, she curled up in the chair, ready to settle in for an afternoon of napping by his side.

It was not to be. She recognized the footsteps, the self-assured voice in the hall as he greeted the nurses with a charming nonchalance. Charming, that is, to those who didn't know better. Ellette sighed and sat up in anticipation of the knock on the door.

He didn't wait for a response before pushing his way in. "Thought I'd find you here. Anytime your phone's off, this is the place to look," he said, with none of the reserved air or hushed tones that the nurses or other visitors used. No, he was perfectly comfortable, and not at all concerned that he might be treading on raw emotions.

"I turn off my phone so you won't bother me," Ellette muttered. She sighed and kept her focus on the man in the bed, knowing her time with him would soon be cut short.

"Ah, well, I just assumed it was because out of courtesy to the other patients," he glanced around, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. "Either way, let's get out of here. We've got work to do if you want sleeping beauty here to wake up anytime soon."

Boris, of course, was right. Nothing she'd done on her own had brought her beloved Rand back to his body. If there was to be any hope of him waking, Boris and his connections to the Otherworld were her only hope. "Just.." she traced her hand along Rand's hairline, his skin pale and sickly under his dark complexion. "Just give me a few minutes, okay?"

The blond man in the doorway shrugged and slipped out the door. She could hear him start up a conversation with one of the nurses at the nearest station and was content that she would have a good few minutes of him flirting and chatting the poor woman up.

She ran her fingers through Rand's hair. It was oily, though not unclean. They were caring for him well enough, but he would have never have let his hair get like this. She couldn't help but notice how long it was. It would be hanging in his face, and she'd be on him to get it trimmed, even threatening to cut it herself. She did her best to work it into the style he usually wore it in, parted in the middle, tucked behind his ears. She bent to kiss his forehead and whisper in his ear.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to bring you back. I'll get our apartment back, and we'll be sitting in that beautiful bay window overlooking the park in no time. I promise. You and me." She laughed then, straightening a little. "I miss your cooking. You have no idea. Boris lives off of take-out. I'm getting fat. Me. Fat," she bowed her head a little, emotion rushing in. "I miss you so much."

With that, she kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand, and turned away. If she stayed any longer she wouldn't be able to blink away the tears. Puffy red eyes had become too regular a look for her. She was determined to change that.

* * *

"Make sure to dress warmly," Boris ordered as he tossed the box of pizza down on the table. Ellette sighed and turned away in disgust.

"You couldn't even get a salad with that? I'm going to break out like a teenager from all this grease."

"Nothing's keeping you from doing your own shopping," Boris quipped back.

"You know how horrible my cooking is..."

"Then don't complain," he said around a massive bite of pizza. "God. This stuff is good. Growing up, the food... I mean, we had grand 'ole feasts and such, but nothing compares to the crazy stuff I can get in this city. Thank god for immigrants."