Disclaimer: Not mine! Don't sue! The song is written by one Terry Moore.
Summary: "I don't know why, but I do dream of you…" the companion to Dream a Little Dream…Rory's POV
A/N: If you didn't think I was disturbed from the first one, you will now.
Spoilers: Through Last Week Fights…RR is still bunk.
I Dream of You
But I do
Dream of you
I dream of you.
I don't know why but I do
Think of you.
Though we're through
I think of you.
He stands against the brick wall, his rich brown eye covered up by a plain, white cloth blindfold; his black t-shirt and camouflage pants dingy and ripped. A lit cigarette dangles loosely from his lips and his hands are bound together behind his back.
She holds a rifle in her hands, aimed at his heart.
"Any last requests?"
She sees the ghost of a tear slide down his cheek from underneath the blindfold. His face remains calm and stony.
"Tell me you love me."
She stares at him.
A wind blows his shaggy hair into his face.
He's going to die.
She'll kill him.
She knows it.
"Why?" she asks.
"I like beautiful lies," he tells her, his voice staying even.
"It wouldn't be a lie," she says softly. "I love you."
The cigarette drops from his mouth and he gives her a genuine smile. A tear touches his lips and he licks it away quickly with a nod. "Then end this."
"Because I killed you first." His voice breaks a little at this.
She looks down at her white uniform. There is a large, crimson stain on her stomach, and she touches a finger to it gingerly. It stings and she feels ill, but she is still standing; still holding the rifle, her knuckles white.
"Please, Rory?" he pleads.
She just can't.
But she does anyways.
She pulls the trigger, and the shot rings out.
She watches him hit the wall and slide to the ground, and wakes up with a shout.
She breathes heavily as she looks around her darkened bedroom.
A dream; just a dream.
The first night she had this dream, she climbed the stairs and crawled into her mother's bed. The second night, she busied herself with laundry and food and music. She couldn't possibly sleep after that.
Tonight she stands in the bathroom, scrubbing her hands.
She is Lady Macbeth.
She looks in the mirror, and there he is, behind her. She can almost feel his cold breath.
His chest is covered in blood, and some of it drips from his messy, sweaty locks of dark hair.
He is the one in white now.
She looks down at her red t-shirt and feels like crying.
She looks back into the mirror, and he's still there; still staring. She turns to him, and he breaks before her eyes. He crumples to his knees hugging her legs. At first his hold was tight, but it slowly became weaker. She watches his eyes begin to close.
"Jess," she whispers.
She shoots up in bed and looks around her dark room.
She wipes the sweat from her forehead and runs her hands through her hair. She looks around frantically, turning on a light and grabbing a book.
A movement outside her window caught her attention, and she was staring into the dark, tired eyes of Jess Mariano.
He backed away.
She flew out of her bed and to the window, climbing out of it. "Jess! Wait!"
He walks faster and faster toward his car.
She doesn't know how, but she catches up to him and latches onto his arm.
"Wait," she pleads. "Please, wait." She realizes how tight a grip she has on his arm and loosens it, not wanting to hurt him.
"I can't," he tells her, his voice cracking. "I have to go."
"Then why did you come here?"
"I don't know!" he cries. "I can't do this again."
He rips his arm away from her and makes a desperate move for his car. She catches his arm again and pulls him back, just as desperate to make him stay.
He struggles with her, and she struggles back. She's tired, but she won't lose; not again. She refuses to.
She fights harder, and he's beginning to gain back a little strength, but she manages to grab his shoulder and shake him violently. "JESS!"
She looks into his eyes, as he seems to take a moment to calm down. She can't for the life of her tell what's going on in his mind.
She watches him as his thoughts race, and pulls him close, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
They part and she runs her fingers through his hair.
She won't kill him.