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. . . Gideon swirled the black substance in the light, carefully taking note of the movement of the particles. He set the vile back on the table and nodded at me.
"Dreamshade," I confirmed in disbelief. These dreams, these nightmares, they were gradually mixing into reality. First, the bruises, then the love bites, now dreamshade. Each nightmare got more and more real with the next. How long will it be until Pan kills me in my nightmare and in real life?
Gideon examined my forearm for any dark-colored veins. Telling from his relieved expression, I guess there were none.
"So much for your dream catcher," I slightly scoffed. I quickly pulled my sleeve back down and wrapped my arms around myself.
He rolled his eyes, "If it wasn't for my dream catcher, that dreamshade could still be in your system."
My mind filled with the image of black lines running from Zach's neck all the way down to his chest. "Darkening of the veins is only a sign when there's a significant amount of poisoning. The smallest drop of dreamshade can't blacken your blood, but it's still strong enough to kill you."
"Fine, I could take a blood sample later, if it makes you feel better," he reasoned with me. "Did you at least bring the dream catcher with you?"
I pull out the wooden item from my shoulder-bag and hand it to him. Gideon waved his hand over it and familiar images appeared in its webbing. I watched Peter and I clashed swords as the rain beat heavily upon us. He tried pushing me to the ground, but I nicked his cheek, giving me a chance to run away.
Gideon furrowed his eyebrows, "In your dreams, what color are his eyes?"
"They usually shift from this fiery green to bright white," I started as I turned away from the dream catcher. "But last night, they were pitch black."
"Would you say they were 'lifeless'?" he asked while keeping his eyes on the images; I nodded hesitantly. "Do you know if Peter's been experiencing anything similar?"
I shook my head, "He hasn't been sleeping well, and he's always tired."
All of a sudden, I felt this dread of guilt. I'd been so caught up in my own problems that I haven't even thought about what Peter could possibly be going through. Why did he have so many sleepless nights?
"The dream catcher did its job," Gideon confirmed as he tossed it back to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "His eyes are white, just as you described them."
I looked back down at the images and peer closely at his eyes; he was right, they were white. "But I swear, his eyes were black."
"Because it wasn't your dream, your dream is caught in the dream catcher. Last night, what you experienced was Peter's dream."
I blinked my eyes, "P-Peter's dream? How is that even possible?"
"It's simple," Gideon pointed to my chest, "You two share a heart."
