Authors Note; Was watching TV, relaxing, and had a flash of inspiration! Woohoo! I am doing this in first person, hope you don't mind. This'll probably be a one shot, who knows. Also, this is on my brothers computer so the spell check is non-existant. Forgive me please. Enjoy and Review!

It was the same dream again.

For the past three nights I had been dreaming.

The dreams wouldn't stop.

The dreams came everytime I closed my eyes, everytime I tried to sleep they came. They filled me with a familiar fear and dread. They just brought back pain and anguish. The feeling of loss was as strong as it had been when it happened.

I woke covered in sweat screaming.

For three straight nights I woke up screaming, gasping, trying to remember that the violence was gone. The pain was gone. It was in the past. It was no longer a part of me.


Men were fighting. There were two men fighting. Two big men covered with sand and sweat as they fought, nearly to the death.


There were swords.

The sounds of the swords were in my ears, the violent clangs and grunts, even screams. I felt fear with the sound of every blow.

The hatred was strong enough to choke on.

The sun was hotter then hell and burnt the skin.

But the fear was worse.

The fear paralyized and would not go away.

It awoke old fears.

I could feel her fear over loosing him. When she watched from over the walls. She watched her husband get killed. I felt everything she felt.

She screamed and begged and pleaded with the Gods to spare his life.

She was destroyed the minute he died.

I understood how she felt.

The pain was real in the dreams.

She screamed. She cried and wailed. His heart stopped beating and her life was destroyed.

The sands billowed out from under his big and strong body when he feel.

His bloody sword was caked with dirt.

It was then I always woke up.

I woke up the minute he died or the minute she screamed.

On that night I woke up screaming. A cold sweat covered my skin. The bed sheets were wrapped around my legs and strong hands fell on my shoulders. I screamed and shoved them off, jumping away from his touch.

"'s just me..."

I gasped, holding my hand over my chest. My t-shirt was damp and I was cold. The light in the hotel room came on and illuminated our room.

Hector's concern was illuminated with the light.

His brown eyes looked at me with concern. His fingers drew along my chin, "Baby. You ok? Was it another dream?"

All I could do was nod.

I hugged myself, freezing cold. I was like an ice cube. Hector reached out and rubbed my arms, "Baby. You're trembling."

The air wasn't on, I knew that much. We had wanted the balcony doors open. We had wanted to expierence the Turkey Coast while we were on the top floor of the hotel. The warm summer breeze felt like ice against my skin.

A chill ran through my body and goosebumps broke out along my skin.

He inched closer and grabbed the sheets from around my ankles. With steady hands he wrapped the blanket around me and pulled me close to him. The warmth of his skin against mine made me gasp. I leant against him and buried my face against his chest.

I curled up against his warmth. I felt safe in his arms. Since the day I met him I had always felt safe.

"I know...I'm freezing. It was that dream again."

Hector kissed my cheek. He ran his hands up and down my arms. "Maybe this room is haunted? Do you think we should switch rooms? That crazy woman down at the market told me that this hotel was built on the spot that Prince Hector of Troy fought the Achilles guy."

I looked up at him, "I told you not to drink that Turkish Beer with dinner."

Hector smiled.

He kissed my lips softly.

"Do you think it's true?"

He cocked a eyebrow at me, "What's true?"

My hands wrapped around his waist and I set my chin on his chest. "The whole Homer story. Achillies. Prince Hector and Paris. Helen of Sparta. Princess Andromache. The whole wooden horse thing."

Hector shrugged, "Maybe. Ask the tour guide tomorrow."