Chapter 67 - Connected

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Ezekiel dreamed seldom and when he did dream....it was often just a confusing dream that he would forget within minutes of waking up....

But tonight he dreamed of something he didn't think he would ever forget.

It started off so innocent and normal...and painful. Everything was dark, nothing moved and that was painful because all he could do was listen.

Someone was screaming in his head, in his heart.

Ezekiel heard every scream, it ripped at his nerves, it made his snarl and hiss, but there was nothing to hiss or snarl at. He simply had to listen to the screams....screams that sounded familiar for some strange reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. Suddenly Ezekiel blinked and in the next moment all the darkness was gone. No shift...or movement on his part....he was simply standing in a small room.

A bathroom.....A familiar bathroom. His bathroom, back at the mansion or at least one that looked like his.

The echoes of the mysterious screams chased themselves around in Ezekiel's head, making him disoriented at first. Until the smell of steam...so warm and moist Ezekiel would have believed it was real and not just a dream mist, brushed past his face and began to clog his lungs. The wet fog gathered close in the small space....he swallowed it with every breath, so that the screams left his mind, replaced by the cloying feeling of steam on his clothes and skin.

The steam was warm...too warm. And in it he sensed the real heat....the source of the steam. And suddenly he heard the water. Fast and heavy and furious....it fell far in front of him and to the right, hidden partially by the steam. Ezekiel could just make out the curtain of a shower, where he guessed the steam was coming from.

Ezekiel approached the shower...and as he got closer he sensed the heat growing. The steam too thick and warm.

And it was just then, before he reached the shower completely that he heard the splash of movement...the mummer of a voice. It was a dream. He shouldn't have been worried....or even embarrassed...but he was. Because that was Brandon's voice.

In his dream....about a Shower.

Ezekiel instantly wanted to deny what that said about where his head was when it came to Brandon...but....to his surprise a sound...a broken wail, a sob overcame his thoughts, pushing all thoughts of embarrassment or guilt to the back of his head.

Why is he crying?

Was Ezekiel first and last question as he slowly walked up to the shower curtain.

Even though it was a dream, Ezekiel's first instinct as a gentlemen was to speak though the curtain...but as he came up to the side Ezekiel saw a flash of skin in the steam....red hot, blistered, boiled. Horrified by the glimpse and not thinking Ezekiel tossed the curtain to the side and there Brandon sat in a ball, beneath the spray, stark naked...but of course this was as far from Ezekiels mind as night was from day. All he could see was the travesty of damage that was being done.

Every inch of Brandon's back was bright red, scalded and burned. Steaming water running in furrows down his back. Ezekiel looked at Brandon's face next and was horrified to see...nothing. A black stare....no pain in his gaze, but his eyes were black rimmed and puffy looking. The burning water had to be painful....agonizing as it ran across his exposed flesh....but when Ezekiel looked back at Brandon's face. Brandon just sat there, letting the water burn him, letting it boil his flesh.

Incensed, by the sight and the damage he was doing to himself, Ezekiel called his name.

"Brandon!" he shouted. "Brandon!"

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