Dream a little dream of me

[Jack Ripley]

Brayden didn't have to tell him twice. Their past selves were breaking his heart in two and he didn't want to see where it all led. It didn't look good for either of them. Jack couldn't even imagine living his life with some random woman for the rest of his life, pretending he never met Brayden. The love of his life, his soulmate, his true love--to get a little Disney with it.

He imagined the book again and it was easier this time, since he had formed such a strong vision of it before in his mind. There it was, familiar as he quickly closed the book and opened his eyes.

"...fuck."

Taking in a deep breath, he opened his eyes in real life, staring up at the familiar ceiling of his apartment, feeling the bed underneath him, his leg intertwined with Brayden's. His heart still ached and beat funny. He slid his hand over it, then looked over, relieved to see Brayden there. Part of him thought he would just vanish, even though he clearly felt his body curled up beside him.

Propping himself up, he brushed his fingertips over Brayden's jaw before kissing him. Everything here was fine. Everything was good. There were no fiancées hiding in the wings, no people watching them like hawks to make sure they were straight, not even something as hideous as Jack being an actual killer. Just the two of them.

"I don't think I like the past," he whispered as the kiss came to a natural conclusion.

[Brayden Smith]

So that could have gone better... Even Bray's heart twisted violently in his chest when he opened his eyes, fearing the worst—that what they saw was the reality and this was nothing more than a dream. He knew that the phantom pain in his chest would dissipate in time but in that moment he couldn't have felt more heartbroken for his past self.

Jack seemed to have the same reaction; while he cursed, Bray took in a long, deep breath to steady himself. Their kiss felt bittersweet in the aftermath of what they saw but it ended sweetly and Bray's clenched fingers in Jack's shirt loosened as their lips parted. Even so, for just a moment, he was afraid to reopen his eyes. Jack was still there, though, when he did open them and he breathed another sigh of relief.

"I guess we didn't work out in that one," he whispered, pulling Jack back into himself to hold him tightly. "But that's—it's all behind us. We're here. We're together." Bray breathed him in, recalling with a pang how his past self had sounded when he realized that he would lose Jackie. Meeting the parents of his fiancee meant that the marriage was being finalized, didn't it? And his past self, he was never going to be the same after that.

"Jack? I saw something else in the vision. Something didn't belong there." He finally loosened his hold on Jack. "There was a metal piece on the table with a word on it. I think it was a clue. It said armed... What does that mean? Armed?"

[Jack Ripley]

What a coward, he thought. The past Jack. Jackie. He was a coward, for going along with his parents' wishes for him! He couldn't help feeling resentful towards... himself, even if it was the past. Did he not even want to fight for Brayden? He was just going to let him go like that? Because the rest of the world didn't like it?

The world was such an unfair place. Not that long ago, even in this world, in this timeline, people were still being stoned to death or discriminated against and all because of what? Love? Because they loved somebody? Why were people so goddamn hateful?

Taking in another deep breath, he tried to calm himself down. It was fine, he had to tell himself. Nobody was doing anything to the two of them now. Nobody was being a coward. Jack wondered if that was why he was so unapologetically queer, because of a lingering sense of shame for his past.

"What?" Jack didn't expect what Brayden observed in the vision. He stared at him. A metal piece? Armed? Armed? "I don't know. I mean... it could mean... like an alarm? Or... armed like... with a weapon? That doesn't make sense, though."

[Brayden Smith]

They were both so young in the vision, no more than maybe twenty or so. To have that put on their shoulders at such a young age was sad and unfortunate. And Bray had been poor, while Jackie was rich—another barrier between them in a time where class differences were heightened and prominent in society.

For that poor Jackie to fall in love with a poor man seemed like a death knell to their ill-fated affair. Bray didn't blame either of them; he merely felt sad for them. He wondered what happened to them, whether Jackie married his fiancee, where his past self ended up. Only one lifetime ago, they were forced apart...

Bray let go of Jack and scrambled off the bed, diving for a pen and pencil. He came back and wrote down the word: armed. Didn't hurt to take copious notes! "I feel like we need to see more visions. There must be other clues in other lives, Jack!" A spark of excitement lit his eyes as he leaned forward eagerly, momentarily shedding the heaviness from the first vision. Bray tapped the notepad with the tip of the pen. "Somebody left messages for us in these past lives. That's why we lived them all together!"

[Jack Ripley]

"Where are you going?" Jack asked, lamenting Brayden's move away from him.

All he wanted to do now was be close to Brayden after that. To erase the bad feeling it gave him in his heart. But Brayden was off on some excited tangent and Jack sat up, watching him as he brought a notepad over and wrote the word down. Armed. It still meant... nothing to Jack.

"Somebody left messages...?" Jack asked skeptically. "Who? One of us?"

Somebody else? Who else would even be invested in their connected lives together? And what made Brayden so sure that it was a message or that there were more in other visions? Jack's heart plummeted at the idea of having to go through more visions. Also... he didn't like the idea that they only lived all their lives together because some voyeur was connecting them together through visions. He preferred the more romantic notion that they were soulmates, thank you very much.

But if they were, then why were they separated in some? It still hurt his heart, thinking about it.

"You want me to look at another one?"

They sort of had to, if they were going to lend any credence to Brayden's hypothesis. Either there would be another message or there wouldn't be. And from there... They would know, at least, that there were messages or not. Jack sighed.

"Fine." He laid back down, placing both hands over his heart like he had to protect it physically. "But you better find something in this one, too..." He didn't want to do this again for nothing.

[Brayden Smith]

"Yes. Please. Let's see one more, Jack."

There was a bigger picture here that neither of them were seeing. They were part of a puzzle—each life was a piece of that puzzle, forming an image that was impossible to view in its entirety until every piece was collected and fit together in just the right way. And this life—this might be the final puzzle piece. This life was meant for them to find all the other pieces—the other words—to spell out the message.

What that said for them, Bray didn't know, but his sense of duty couldn't let him sit idly by, just as he couldn't imagine himself staying home and having wild parties while an entire kingdom saw him as a prince and needed his protection. Self-sacrificing was the one thing that everyone thought of him, and it didn't stop at risking his own happiness for the greater good. There had to be a greater good here. There had to be an end game to ending all of this... this madness, this nightmare, for not only himself but for Niall and Rhys and everyone affected by the Fallen King.

Still... He didn't like the thought of this being the final life he could live with Jack. He didn't want it all to end, even if some lives ended badly. Lots of them had to end well, too. Those lives were probably just as beautiful as this one, if not more so. He set the notepad down and laid down beside Jack; his lips found Jack's jaw, then his lips. The kiss was longer than the last one and softer, sweeter.

"I know it's hard." His hand slipped over Jack's, the two clasping his chest over his heart. "I know we're doing something we probably... don't want to do, but it's for all of us, Jack. It's for your brothers and their lovers, for Margie and Allie and everybody that got dragged into this mess with us. We have to do our best for them, too, right? If-if we could give them a good life, it's all worth it. They didn't have other lives together, and this is the only one any of them have, to be happy together. Okay?"

[Jack Ripley]

One more. Just one more for now. As much as he didn't want to, he felt like he had to, since Brayden wanted him to. Plus, it only took one more to prove or disprove Brayden's theory. Still, he couldn't quite shake that feeling of watching their past selves, breaking up. Why that memory? Why that moment?

The kiss soothed him a little but not as much as he wished it did. His hands were warm under Brayden's. He felt like the beat of his heart could be felt even through his own hands, as if Brayden sensed his feelings on the matter. Of course he did. He was Brayden.

"We don't know that," he said. "That my visions are the way to save them."

But it was still a possibility. Jack didn't know how he felt about that. So much responsibility weighed on top of him and he wasn't exactly known for being the best under pressure. In fact, if anything, Jack chafed under pressure. Cracked. Why else did he move away and avoid being caught for crimes he thought he certainly committed instead of confessing and putting himself away to save people in the future...?

He wasn't proud of it. But he could be... selfish.

"Let's just..." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "Let's just do it."

There was no avoiding it, so it was better to get it out of the way. Otherwise, it was only going to keep weighing on him. And the best way to cure that was alcohol and he knew how Brayden felt about that.

Again, he imagined that book. And he imagined flipping to another page, this time skipping a few and opening it somewhere towards the middle. He had no idea what it would mean but he didn't want to move to the next one up, okay? Not after what he had just experienced.

This time, when the words appeared and crawled up his arm, he was ready. Setting his jaw, he waited for the words to hit his mind, to visualize them. The vision swam into view, this time it was light, bright out and if he had wanted something more... fantastic, he was getting it this time.

He blinked at the strangeness of the world around him.

It was... beautiful. There were buildings in trees, with long, wooden swinging bridges. And homes built on the ground around them were close to the trees, too. Some were even built into rolling hills and everything was green and blooming with bright spots of colorful flowers. Sitting on one of the bridges were two boys, in their teens. Jack immediately recognized them. It was them, together again. Always together, it seemed, somehow, even when they were falling apart.

This time, however, they were both smiling as they swung their legs over the side of the bridge, leaning against the rope and looking down. Young Jack had a conspiratorial grin on his face as he leaned into Young Brayden and he swung a long, gangly leg over so that his ankle crossed with Young Brayden's. He turned toward Young Brayden.

"Bow your head, Prince Brayden," he said. They still had their names. How? But he watched keenly as Young Jack presented a flower crown and set it on Young Brayden's head. This time, Young Brayden did wear nice clothing, nothing worn or patched. They were both well dressed, actually. Young Jack wore a pretty silver metal bracelet and his boots were calf-high with an ornate design pressed into the leather. Young Brayden wore a silk tunic. He looked... beautiful.

"Are you nervous about your coronation?" Young Jack asked as he lowered his hands and leaned back, swinging their legs together. "Just give me the signal and I can distract everybody long enough for you to get away," he said, with a very Jack-like wink.

[Brayden Smith]

"I love you, Jack," Bray whispered, knowing that Jack was only doing this to please him. It wasn't hard to see that Jack didn't want to go through with another vision, when the first disturbed him—disturbed them both—so much. That semi-nauseous feeling had yet to leave Bray's stomach either but if they didn't do this now, they might not have another chance later, with everyone surrounding them requiring their attention in some form.

He settled down beside Jack again and closed his eyes and took comfort in their physical closeness in the moment. Past lives had no bearing on them in the present, he had to remember that. What happened before was no indication of what was to come, which was a little consolation prize in the midst of all this madness. They had yet to touch on Jack's ability to see into the future but that wasn't something easily taught in one evening. It was much more unpredictable, too, and asking him to peek into the future now would be like asking him to fly before he could crawl!

This time the vision was much brighter and lighter. Bray looked around at the beautiful dwellings; it was a fae kingdom! Nature was prominent all around them and even the very houses and dwellings were woven into trees and hillsides, blending in with the scenery. They came upon two boys, again a vision of them when they were young. Why when they were young? Why not in the advanced stages of life? Or was there something here, in this time, that they needed to see?

Young Brayden—Prince Brayden—lowered his head with a secretive smile. Through the screen of hair that fell over his eyes he covertly studied his companion, a young and handsome, immaculately dressed boy with the same loose curls drifting over the curve of his cheekbones. Jack's eyes were the same hazel color, too, seeming so much brighter and livelier outside in the dappled sunlight.

Brayden laughed gently as the flower crown landed on his head. "I'm not... not nervous," he sighed, edging closer towards Jack. His hand inched toward Jack's too, and his pinkie curled against Jack's shyly—that was definitely something even present-day Bray would have done. Their shoulders brushed at first and then lightly touched and Brayden's cheeks flushed softly pink.

"I'm not sure my mother would like me running off in the middle of my coronation..." The smile on his face was a little goofy, probably because they were touching in that innocent way that very young people in love tended to initiate. "And especially if the distraction came from one of the Kings of the other houses! But—I thank you, your majesty, for the very generous offer." He laughed again, quietly. "Was it scary? Your coronation I mean? You had such a big party afterwards, I don't know how you managed to go in for lessons the next day!"

[Jack Ripley]

"Scary? No way! It was one of the best days of my life!" The way Jack grinned said it all; he had probably unabashedly soaked in the attention of his subjects. Ah, he was wearing an actual crown on his head. Nothing too gaudy but tasteful and with a definite flash that was every bit as Jack today as it was Jack in this world.

"And if you'll remember, I didn't even pay attention to lessons that day. Go on and ask me anything about it. I was still pretty high on all that chyro-honey wine and those golden flower biscuits everybody was plying me with. My advice: don't imbibe too much or you're going to see stars for days."

Jack pressed the side of his head against one of the ropes of the bridge, his gaze on Brayden. He wasn't smiling anymore but his eyes still held a definite warmth in them when they lit on Brayden.

"I just wish my father was still alive to see me running his House for him... I know I should have been more careful with all that wine, seeing as he died that way... But..."

Jack in the present looked to Brayden. This was all very fascinating, even if he didn't fully understand what was going on. This Jack was a king? And Brayden was going to be one, too?

"Do you see anything strange yet? Any hints?"

[Brayden Smith]

"Not yet..."

Bray was looking half at the scene unfolding before them and half all around, trying to find something out of place like that metal platte from the first vision. But in the midst of all this greenery and natural scenery, he saw nothing that stood out to him. There was just... green grass, a fast-flowing river and two young boys who were the prior incarnation of himself and Jack. Slowly, he walked towards the pair, knowing that they were nothing but ghosts in this scene—only spectators, not participants.

Brayden's hand slipped fully over Jack's. Prince Brayden, King Jack. "Getting smashed on wine won't be an issue for me, seeing as how I can't drink more than a thimblefull without feeling light-headed!" He shook his head in exasperation at himself, but laughed anyway. "If anyone offers me wine, I'll pass it along to you under the table, and you can drink for me."

Not the wisest plan, thought Bray, given how present Jack took to liquor to solve his troubles but these two probably didn't know the extent of their troubles yet. Prince Brayden's gaze softened too and he squeezed King Jack's hand. "Your father would be proud of you if he could see you now. Everyone knows you're trying to do your best to keep your House together."

He looked away, towards the glistening river. "My father... I know he's looking down on us from heaven. Yours too. So. We'll just have to do our best to help our people!"

Suddenly, Prince Brayden sat up straighter. His head whipped around; a low, long horn sounded off in the distance. Scrambling to his feet, he reached for the short sword strapped to his waist. "Jack!" There was a kind of panic in his eyes as he looked off in the direction of the horn. "That way! Quick!"

Bray watched him running off. "We have to follow them, Jack!" He began to run too, following his younger self as another horn sounded, this time in several short blasts. Other fae were flooding out of their dwellings too, weapons drawn, all headed towards the sound of the horn.

[Jack Ripley]

Jack laughed. "Gladly," he said, lifting Brayden's hand to his lips. Of course he would say that; it seemed like every Jack had a taste for alcohol... and Braydens.

The talk of fathers intrigued Jack greatly. He listened avidly as Brayden spoke of his father. Apparently they both lost their fathers. To what? Jack made it sound like alcohol had done his father in. What happened to Brayden's father?

"I hope so. I never realized how hard it was to be King until I had to fill his shoes... I thought I was born for it... destined for it, but I..."

He trailed off, also seemingly alarmed by the sound of the horn in the distance. Both of them were on their feet then, Brayden going for a short sword at his hip and Jack going for... a bow slung over his back that he hadn't even noticed was there before. Well, well. Some things didn't change, then. Jack was in the archery club in Harvard, too...

The two clambered off, toward the sound of the horns.

"Shit." Jack had no idea what the hell they'd gotten themselves into this time but he followed Brayden because he seemed to think it was what they had to do. (Well, if they stayed, who would they be watching in this vision...?)

"Are they at war or something?" he asked, bewildered. "What the hell is happening?"

"The hollow beasts approach!" somebody shouted as Brayden and Jack arrived, the sound of the horns growing louder as more and more fae with weapons drawn came out in droves.

"What's a hollow beast?" Jack asked.

[Brayden Smith]

"I don't know!" Bray panted as he tried to keep up with their younger, more virile selves. True, Bray was nowhere near over-the-hill, but he... ah... did not work out regularly enough. And he wasn't as panicked as their younger selves, who had actual enemies to face judging by the way they both drew their weapons.

Thankfully they didn't run far. Bray held on to a tree to catch his breath and instinctively reached for Jack's hand, even though he knew that they were in no danger. This was a vision—an interactive movie of sorts. It wasn't real to them and they were in no danger... but tell that to the part of him that kept screaming at him to protect Jack!

"Hollow... beasts..." He was trying hard to catch his breath. "They're corrupted things. Corrupted by the Fallen, like minions. Foot-soldiers. Mom said the Fallen used to find all kinds of nasty creatures to corrupt, just to use against the fae."

Brayden gripped his sword tightly as the first of the creatures crested the hill. Beside him were other defenders forming a line, shoulder to shoulder. His back was rigid, his posture erect, a true prince of a House of the fae. Behind him archers were lining up too, rallying around their King—Jack. But his gaze kept drifting back to Jack, as though seeking some kind of reassurance.

The horn sounded again, a deep booming rolling noise that echoed off into the hills. Brayden brandished his sword. "Hold steady!" The fae beside him hefted large shields, pointed spears between the gaps in the shields, brought up swords in a defensive formation. Archers nocked arrows to bows, angling them higher above the heads of the defenders and sighting down the shafts to target the slavering beasts charging towards them.

The beasts were nearly upon them before Brayden shouted again. "Hold steady men! Hold!" His hand shook with how tightly he gripped his sword, but the look on his face was determined. A line of magic-users drew mana from the air; their commander, a tall, broad-shouldered blond man with icy blue eyes, curled his lips. "At your command, Prince Brayden," his disdainful voice drifted on over above the crackle of magic.

Bray clutched Jack's hand. "Jack. That—that's—" It was... Keith. Younger Keith, but that face and that voice was unmistakable.

[Jack Ripley]

"Of course they are..." They couldn't escape the Fallen even here, in this other realm, in this other lifetime. He watched as the fae army lined up and readied a defense against whatever was coming next. And then that voice. Jack would know it anywhere. He'd heard it for so long in his dreams, in his nightmares.

"...it is." It was Keith. Although he was dressed like a fae, his face was much the same as it had been when they were young, when Jack had been stupidly in love with him. First loves, they said, tended to stick with you for a lifetime. He didn't think it meant like this.

"How is he here?" Jack hissed, as if the Keith could hear them, even over the sound of horns and shouts. What did it mean that Keith was in another life with him, too? He narrowed his eyes.

"Hold?" Jack said, holding his arrow at the ready. The beasts were so close, nearly upon them. "How much longer can we possibly hold? They'll be on us!" And with that, he waited only a few seconds more before he called out, "Arrows, now! Now!"

And with that, the archers attacked. The arrows flew, many of them hitting their targets true. Some were hit so hard and so accurately that they fell and were trampled by other beasts in their wake. But others only roared with rage and charged.

"Magic, magic! Now! Subjugate them!"

The front liners needed the magic users; going in slashing with magical swords was well and good but it could also end tragically if they didn't immobilize those beasts with the worst of the claws and fangs.

[Brayden Smith]

"I don't know! I don't know Jack!" Bray said frantically, as the chaos of battle all around them added to the confusion and the disarray. He clung to Jack. What was Keith doing here? Bray thought that their shared lives were uniquely theirs but now... Keith was in one of these visions and Bray had to wonder: was he meant to be a part of their lives all along? Did he show up in other lives too, and for what purpose? Was Keith's fate tied in with theirs, too?

Brayden gritted his teeth as he watched the creatures advancing, knowing that the deaths of their companions would only enrage and strengthen them. That was why he waited so long to act, wanting to give everyone enough time to draw mana and power weapons, to have enough accuracy to make killing shots. Because hollow creatures didn't go down when injured; they fought even as they were at death's door.

When it was impossible to hold out any longer, he raised his sword. "Shields! Pikes and spears! Forward!" They advanced in a long line, shields charged with protective spells and swords imbued with the elements. Brayden was trembling inside but he found himself calm outside, directing his men to hold their shields up high so that they could cover for the others behind them, the archers and mages.

As the first wave of creatures crashed upon them, pushing them momentarily back, Brayden thrust out with his sword, taking a two-headed dog through the heart. "Pikes overhead! Don't let them break through!" The man beside him let out a gurgling cry as a creature caught him in the throat; corruption spread immediately through him, reducing him to a writhing mass. Brayden stepped into the space he left behind and hacked and slashed wildly with the others, as they began to push the beasts back.

But then another fae went down, and another, and the gaps opened. Brayden was so caught up looking out for others that he failed to notice a creature sneaking up on him. He whirled around as he heard a snarl but—too late. It bit into his arm as he whipped his shield up and the pain caused him to drop it with a loud cry. Corruption flowed along his arm, surging towards his heart.

Bray gripped Jack's hand hard. "Oh God! No!" But his eyes were glued to the shield, which was stained with young Brayden's blood. In the wet surface, words appeared, as if an invisible finger was writing on it: rateably

[Jack Ripley]

"BRAYDEN!"

Jack pushed past others to get to him but he was already gone. Slumped over, corruption and blood staining him.

"Brayden, Brayden, Bray, wake up. Don't leave me, no... no, no, no... Baby, please..." He held him close, staining himself with his blood. But Brayden was gone. His eyes were hollow, his head lolled to the side before Jack cradled him close, burying his face in Brayden's chest. He was shaking and raw and not paying any heed to the battle around him.

But Keith was. To Jack's surprise, he stood before Jack and... shielded him. Around him, several blank eyed warriors surrounded him and at Keith's command, they used themselves as shields against the beasts.

Jack felt like he was going to be sick. Jolting out of the nightmare of the vision, he hurried to close the book and opened his eyes, sitting up and screaming out Brayden's name. He had forgotten all about the reason they had been there in the vision at all. But he didn't even care about it anymore. He got off the bed, but every limb was shaking and shivering and he ended up sitting with his back against the bed, feeling sickened by Brayden's death.

"I can't... I can't do it again, B. You died. You died. You died."