Walking on a Dream
Disclaimer: I don't own 007 but I'm planning to infiltrate Broccoli and steal the rights...oh crap - you never read that – you hear me?! Never!
Summary: Some things just aren't meant to happen and yet they still haunt you. –during QoS-
Author's Note: Inspired by the Empire of the Sun song Walking on a Dream. I'm not really sure about this in all honesty – like seriously, still it was fun to write so whatever. Also this is not a songfic. Hasn't been beta'd. I hope that you enjoy this.
He was in a car.
But wait a second – how the bloody hell had he gotten in a car?! He had just been in bed. He had clearly been in bed. He remembered meeting Mathis, getting on that plane and trying to sleep. Yes, he had been with Mathis, he'd gone to his villa and somehow, he wasn't sure how, he'd ended up here? But where was here? He glanced around the car searching for a possible clue. All he got was that it was an Aston Martin.
So he was an Aston Martin, driving where? He quickly looked out of the tinted windows to see a single strip of road ahead, tall pines running alongside it. But it didn't feel right. He moved his hand, staring at it. For some reason his movements were slower...
Was he drugged? He gripped the steering wheel and drove along the road, watching it carefully. He saw a fork in the road. He gunned the engine but frowned. No roar greeted him and the car seemed oddly silent. He glanced around unsure of what to do.
Seeing the fork in the road he decided to take the left. Left seemed like a good way to go or should he go right? As he neared it he quickly turned right. He felt the powerful car move towards it but it shifted left. It was like he wasn't going to make the turn. What in blazes was going on?
Seeing the sign post coming towards him at a rapid rate he quickly went to the left, narrowing missing it. His heart rate increased and he swallowed deeply. It had been like something was pulling him to the left. But what? It hadn't been a gut feeling, it had been a general pull, something out of this world. The road had just... he wasn't even sure. All he knew was that he had taken the left fork when he had being trying to take the right.
This wasn't right.
He looked at the land again to see that it had changed to open fields – but they weren't complete open fields. Looming shadows seemed to creep at the edge – almost like in a dream. He froze. Was he dreaming? That actually would make sense.
"I'm in a dream?" he asked himself, "In a dream..."
He closed his eyes and shook his head, willing himself to wake up. He didn't. He opened his eyes and swore as he saw the same stretch of road. He took his hands of the wheel and pinched himself. It didn't surprise him that he felt nothing – he was definitely dreaming.
"Well this is great," he said, "Just great,"
The car began to turn to the left and he instinctively straightened the car up so he wouldn't crash. He wasn't even sure why he did it. If this was a dream then nothing could happen? Sure there was that belief that if you died in a dream...
He mentally shook himself and looked ahead.
His left foot suddenly slammed down on the break, his heart racing as a massive house appeared out of no where. Literally. The car stopped abruptly, James' body thrown forward against the steering wheel. Though his gut clenched, and his heart skipped a beat he once again felt no pain.
He quickly unclipped his seatbelt and got out of the Aston, staggering as the weight of his dream – did that make sense? – seemed to slow him down more than gravity ever did. He glanced back to the house, noting how despite its wide spacious windows that lay against white bricks, the house looked narrowed...twisted sorta. It was the distortion you only ever get in dreams James decided.
He ambled up to it, looking around, in case some dream version of an enemy agent turned up suddenly. He could still remember the monsters on the cliffs from when he was a eleven(1) and he didn't want a repeat a performance. He was sure that no matter the age, things would still pop up randomly in dreams.
James carefully walked along the gravel path up to the wide stone steps, smiling slightly as he was reminded of walking on a ship. There was that sway to the earth, that sense it wasn't really there though it was. Well it wasn't really since this was a dream...
He shook his head. He really needed to stop analysing his dream and just...
"Just what?" he asked himself as he reached the front door, "What am I supposed to be – "
The door opened. He glanced down to see a little dark haired, blue eyed girl staring at him, an innocent smile plastered on her face. She held out her hand and he clung to it, unsure. She looked familiar, very familiar.
He allowed the girl to lead him into the large house, taking careful note of the eight paintings that hang against the wall of the entrance hall, the winding staircase to his right, and the three doors to his left. He glanced back at the little girl who stopped. She turned to him and smiled.
His jaw slackened as he stared at her. Daddy...had she just called him 'Daddy'? It had to be a mistake or something. Wait – this was a dream, just a dream...
Something tugged at his right pant leg.
His whole body froze, the image of Freddy Krueger entering his mind immediately. Glancing down he saw a blue eyed toddler staring up at him, the toddler's short blonde hair sticking up at odd angles. This dream was getting weirder by the second.
What the hell was going on?
He swallowed, looking back to the little girl, deciding to figure this out because surely even dreams had an ounce of logic and could be worked out – right?
He asked slowly, "Where's your Mum?"
"She's sick Daddy," said the girl, "You know that,"
"I'm not your dad..."
"Yes you are!" she said, tears appearing in her eyes, "Your Daddy! You're my and Tommy's Daddy! Don't lie Daddy!"
"I'm not –"
"Yes you are!" she screamed, "Don't LIE!"
His heart froze.
Her tears kept coming but that wasn't it. Something wet was touching him. He glanced down to see water at his feet and raising. What the hell!? He stared around in shock and looked to the staircase, his body trembling. The whole building seemed to shake and he swallowed deeply.
The room had changed. He wasn't sure how but now it looked just like Vesper's ...
His heart hammered in his chest, as the toddler started to cry, and the little girl screamed. He reached down, scooping the little blonde boy up, and grabbed the girls hand. He wasn't even sure why he had. This was a dream so these figments of his imagination surely couldn't get hurt.
But it felt so real. The water, the cold, the noise. So real. So like that day.
He raced to the staircase though he knew it was hopeless. He glanced around as the structure around him started to crumble into a rush of water. He staggered as a spray of water burst behind him, sending him rocking forward. He hit the water and was pulled by something to the bottom. He struggled to the surface, and as he broke free he remembered the toddler.
Suddenly his eyes caught sight of both kids standing on the staircase as if nothing had happened. They looked like ghosts, pale, eyes wide and hollow and behind them. Behind them in the shadows...it was her. She always turned up, hair wet, eyes blank, skin pale.
He had to wake up. He couldn't deal with this, with her. He blink furiously, hoping that in that brief second he'd pass into the realm of the living, back into life and away from this dream. He had to wake up, he had to –
His eyes suddenly opened to blackness, save a few lights. He was sitting upright in a chair, gentle snoring to his right. He frowned, his heart still hammering. Was he awake? He pinched himself and sighed in relief.
He was awake.
It was over.
He stood up and turned to see the barman packing up. He walked quickly up to him and asked for her drink, Vesper's drink, saying the recipe without a second thought.
"Course sir," replied the man.
James smiled coolly and waited. And as he waited, as he tried to drink away his dreams, as he listened to the sleeping people around him he could still see them.
The blonde haired toddler.
The little girl.
And he wondered if he could ever truly escape them.
(1) Bond's parents were killed in a mountaineering accident.
The figments of James' dream (i.e. toddler and little girl) is how I'd imagine a Lynd/Bond family to turn out like. Don't ask why.