Dreamers (done and closed)

[William Saxton]

Will made his way to the library again. His dream last night was going to drive him crazy. He had entered the dream world and once more his heart was gone. Again he searched for it but nothing came up. He new he was close to it and that is what was bugging him.

He searched for a book but found nothing. He sat down at one of the tables pulled out a notebook from his backpack that had been tossed there. The cover was worn with the use of it. It was almost falling off but duct tape helped keep it together. The lined pages were full of his neat writing, his dreams. A few pages were smudged where rain or tears fell. He had left it out in the rain a few times and cried on it as well. He flipped through to the dream he had last night.

in almost every dream so far he had seen his heart. It was in a box near someone. The closer he got to the person the closer he got to his heart. Last night wasn't so. Last night the person and his heart was no where to be found. He could hear them though. He could hear his heart beat, slower then before. The closer he got the faster it beat, he had figured that out when he nearly touched it.

He was lost in thought now. His hand brushing over the text as if it would help. "Blasted dream," he cursed the page.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

It was almost customary for Dr. Peterson to make his way into the library and find one of the scholarly journals to rummage through. Part of the reason for this is he was curious if he was quoted or ever would be quoted by others on the subject of dreams. He had written papers and some of them were even published in the journals he took the time to read. Still it seemed his work was unappreciated and ignored.

As he made his way among the rows of bookshelves he saw the familiar face of Will. Will the student that had come into his classroom solely to discuss dreams and their interpretation. He was not even registered to take the course and still he contributed more than many of them that were. It seemed that they were more interested in getting their kicks from his slides than in actual debate. It seemed this time however the young scholar was a bit distraught, no frustrated. Robert shook his head and smiled that knowing smile he often used. It seemed that many of the brightest kids found themselves in a conundrum over dreams. Not that they had dreams, most had come to the realization they were going to, it was what to do with the ones they had. Even when they were on the right track it seemed the light at the end of the tunnel was coming at them rather than them approaching it.

The professor quietly came over and tried to catch the young man’s attention as he stood in front of him, “having a few difficulties William,” he questioned and waited for his young friend to reply.

[William Saxton]

Will didn't know what to make out of this dream. The heart was no where to be seen but it was hard. This how ever wasn't what truly bothered him. It was the person with it that bothered him. They were moving. They were keeping it from something, he just didn't know what.

He heard his name coming from the world beyond his thoughts. He looked up to see Dr. Peterson. "Very much so sir," he gave a half smile. He closed his notebook. "I'm trying to figure out my dream last night. I just can't seem to get it."

He put the notebook on the table. For what good it was doing him. It wasn't helping reading the dream over again. The words 'Will I'll keep it safe," rang thought his head. The voice was from his love, Jack. But what was he protecting it from and why won't he give it back? The answer he didn't know. The answers he wanted to know but he didn't know how to figure it out.

"I just don't get it," he sighed. "So I came here. There was something wrong." he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

A curious smile crept across the counselors face as he heard the young man mention trying to solve the meaning of a dream, “not everything that happens in the dream world has a meaning,” he offered hoping it might cheer up the lad that sat frustrated before him. “Perhaps I can help Will but there are some aspects of our dream lives that are out of our control”

This although true was not something he liked to admit. For Robert admitting there were something he could not help the students with was like admitting he was useless and he just didn’t want to do it. It was his co-dependency that kept pushing him towards perfection even if that ideal he sought was unattainable. Things had gotten better as he dealt with the issues behind it but the feelings still nagged at him.

The man pulled out the seat across from him and studied the Will for a moment. He had been impressed with his grasp of what the Dream World was and his insights on Dream Forms. Such knowledge generally kept students from worrying too much about what went on there preferring to allow their waking hours to be uninhibited by what went on when their eyes were closed.

“We can go to a study room and discuss this if you like… too many ears,” Dr. Roberts said with a slight chuckle and a glance around the library.

[William Saxton]

He watched as the familiar face sat down in front of him. Will understood that things were out of his control but the words that lingered in his head he didn't like. "A study room would be nice," Will gave a faint smile. "I don't need to many people hearing my dreams come to life."

After shoving the notebook in his bag he stood and started off for a study room. The room was quiet and soundproof. One of the few things that Will enjoyed. He sat down in one of the chairs and pulled his note book out again. He opened to the dream he had last night then closed his eyes. He wanted to cry but he wasn't about to. Crying was for when you are alone and no one can hear. But there was a lingering effect of frustration about him. Emotions running wild and all becasue of a dream, or nightmare as it were.

"Somethings may be out of out control but that doesn't make me want to stop knowing why," he sighed then opened his eyes once more. "Not everything has a meaning but I know this one did. I can just feel it." It was hard to explain but the dream felt so real somehow. This dream was something Will wanted to figure out and was going to.

"I don't know why but this dream seemed like something so much more," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. He looked over at the Dr. Peterson. "I'm not making much sense am I?"

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Many held Will’s understandable sentiment regarding their dream life. Robert was not keen on merely announcing to the world. Hay I’m a fifteen year old kid that thinks he’s a prince, any more than his clients relished the thought of revealing their own dream forms. Such matters were often far too revealing of the inner workings of their psyche. No more would they announce these hidden secrets to the world than they would be willing to admit to the world what aspects of their thoughts had created these representations.

The counselor only offered a smile of understanding and patiently followed his young acquaintance. He took a seat not too close to the young man. Signs of mental stress were quite apparent to the professor. Even with Will’s statement that confirmed the lad’s cognitive grasp of the complicated subject Robert still knew that an intellectual assent of knowledge did not always equate to acceptance.

He was glad to hear that Will was not ready to merely concede all of his assertions. Conversation and debate is where ideas become more than an ethereal whimsy whipped up by ones emotions. They become more concrete and closer to the realm of reality. Thesis statements become more solid until some form of hard data can prove them.

“Your making perfect since,” the consoler offered, “dreams often feel disjointed, as if they have no purpose, this is very often the not the case.”

He took in a deep breath and gave a glance towards the notebook Will seemed to think was somehow important enough to have open during their discourse. The man could not see what had been scrawled on the notebook as it lay open on the table, nor did he desire to. He himself had confidential files and notebooks he would not have the world prying into. Under the circumstances Dr. Peterson had the impression this particular notebook held Will’s personal record of his dream life. Robert encouraged his students to keep a journal of their dreams. Such a record had aided him many times in coming to grips not only with his nocturnal visions but also with what others would call reality.

“In the world outside of Somnium Academy,” Dr. Peterson said making himself comfortable in the straight back wooden chair, “every aspect of our dream life is in some way controlled by our subconscious. Here," he continued, “real sentient beings, demons if you like, interact with us and our mind looses some of its control.” He looked intently at Will hoping he would understand his next statement, “that makes what we dream here both more informative and at times far less than what we dream while we are away.” Robert placed his forearms on the sturdy wooden surface of the table in front of him as he formed his question, “would you mind sharing with me at least part of what you feel is so meaningful?”

[William Saxton]

Will ran a hand through his hair again. It was a key thing he did when he was frustrated. It didn't calm him but allowed him to move. Moving was something he did when he got like this. It just helped keep him cool until he was alone or just couldn't take it anymore. This dream was starting to give him the feeling of him not being able to take it.

He looked at the eyes of a man that was calm. One that knew something and wasn't at peace either. The man in front of him had problems too but right now he was trying to help Will. A faint smile crossed Will's lips at this. Will knew he could trust him but wasn't sure he was ready to tell him his dream form. It wasn't something he was proud of.

He listened to the him. The words made sense. Will knew half of it but let the man talk. When he reached the question Will looked down at hiss feet. To know why it was important he would have to know his dream form. He didn't know if he was ready to tell him that. The words my heart is torn out and someone has it, just didn't seem like a good thing to say.

"For that you'd have to know my form," he sighed. He was going to tell him what he was. He looked up at the doctor. It wasn't hard to say he just didn't like why it was what it was. "My form is a vampire with the heart torn out. It has a hole there but I'm still living. I know why it is like that." He looked own at his note book. "But what makes it meaningful is five words. I'll keep it safe Will. The it is my heart. Someone has it and I guess they are keeping it safe. But I'd like to know from what. I can't figure it out."

Now that the man had some information on what the dream was about maybe he could help. But there was side information that Will hadn't said. He didn't say the voice belong to his love, he didn't say that he was fay, and he didn't say why he knew that his love had his heart. That was information that he wasn't ready to give up yet.

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert nodded and let a faint smile cross his face. Dream forms were often far from what the person would have chosen if they were given the opportunity do select one. Though he was quite curious as to peoples forms in the world he never found them repulsing or frightening, at least in his waking hours, only informative about the individual. Will’s dream form was not too unusual. It matched much of what was going on inside the young man. All dream forms were representations of the persons psyche and as such said something rather personal about each the person. To the counselor it was an honor to be trusted with such information and with it he hoped to help others find the inner peace they were seeking.

“I see,” the counselor offered, “And it sounds from what I already know about you that the question of why may already be answered for you so it is the words that have troubled you.”

You already know what is being kept safe too, seeing your dream form is missing a heart,” he nodded as he pondered the new information and than formed a question, “was this voice a familiar one, I mean was it of someone important to you?

[William Saxton]

Will felt like Dr.Peterson was just spiting the information that he had given him back. He sat back in the chair and listened anyway. Maybe he could get something out of it. The frustration would only grow if he didn't. IT wasn't something he wanted.

Then he asked a question. Will looked at the doctor with wide eyes. The voice was very familiar. It was in all his dreams. It talked to him on the phone. It talked to him person. The voice belong to the man he loved. That voice belonged to Jack. Will gave a faint nod to the doctor as if t o signify that it did.

Will swallowed and tried to find his voice. He wasn't scared to tell anyone about Jack, he was scared of what it would lead to. When he talked about it it normally lead to questions about the past. He didn't want to talk about his past, not if he didn't have to. "The voice belonged to Jack," he spat out and ran his hand through his hair again. "He is my boyfriend or rather the love of my life." He wondered how the doctor would take to him being gay. Most people didn't know what to do. It was almost funny to see the reaction.

"But it is just the words that have me worried," he sighed. "Not the voice. Just the words, I don't like the ring of them."

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert nodded as he pondered his young acquaintance’s words. The doctor was not someone unacquainted with lost love. He knew what loosing a lover was like far too intimately. Dr Peterson still mourned the passing his beloved fiancé. The pain still lingered, haunting his waking world and even at times his nightmarish dreams. He felt empathy for William and nearly offered to share his own tales of personal loss but decided such would and should wait for another time.

“Is Jack still with us, I mean is he still alive,” the counselor asked tilting his head.

From the look in Robert’s eyes it would be obvious, too obvious for his liking, that he knew something of the pain of a lost love. He moved on than trying not to focus too heavily on the person seeing the words were what troubled Will more, “you already know the answer Will, it is just brining it out into your conscious mind that is the problem. Could it be that Jack still has your affections, your heart as it were, and that your dream is telling you he is caring for it until you need it again?”

“The ring of words is often discordant in the Dream world,” Robert continued, “the voice is probably not that of a Demon though and is, as in most cases, your own mind trying to tell you something.”

He took in a deep breath, “I hope some of this is making some since anyway. I often hear the voices of others from my past. Sometimes they are my mind and others they are a cruel mockery by the residence of the Dream world. But this, this sounds to me as if your mind is trying to tell it will be alright, that you are safe and that when you are ready you can be whole once again.”

[William Saxton]

Will just looked at the doctor. He knew all the stuff the doctor was spitting out at him. What the doctor didn't know was it was a nightmare. Jack wouldn't' have said it if he thought Will's love for him was safe, there must be a threat, or she Jack thought. Will wasn't looking for anyone else, he had plans to propose when he got back home.

"Jack is still alive," he said with a smile, just the thought made him smile. "I'm planning on proposing when I get home but that isn't the point."

Will looked down at his dream notebook. The nightmare living on the page, as it were, was staring back at him. "I hear Jacks voice every time I go into the dream world. I know he has it for the reason you say. But I also know the words wouldn't have been said if I wasn't safe." He ran his fingers over the words, as if they could tell him something. He seemed lost in thought.

In a spit second he looked the doctor in the eyes. Something he hadn't thought of before had hit him. "Last night it wasn't a dream more of a nightmare. I wasn't safe. I was being attacked but some thing from the dream world," he shuddered at the thing that it was. Scared him so bad he woke up hyperventilating. "But I'm pretty sure that isn't why the words were said."

The words rang through his head again, clear as a bell. He thought them over with what the doctor said. Something was wrong with in those words, something big, he just didn't know what. "The thing is I know that there isn't a simple explanation to the words. Something deeper is in them."

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

Robert smiled when he heard the man was still alive. It always made things a bit easier when trying to solve such riddles. There was a tie between individuals that surpassed and fundamentally accepted knowledge. Such things could not be learned by observation and thus fell outside the realm of scientific research. Even if the bond was between individuals of the same gender, it made no difference. The mind was still an uncharted masterpiece and capable of many things not yet discovered by the mainstream of accepted thinking.

“Than there is but one thing I can recommend,” he offered, “see if perhaps Jack could be consulted about this.” His eyes drifted down in thought a he spoke trying to figure out thebest way to place these two things together, “if it is his voice you are hearing he would have the best chance of knowing the meaning to the words.”

“Not everything can be explained by conventional means,” Robert said still smiling,” and I believe Jack is indeed trying to tell you something.”

He stood to his feat and prepared to leave feeing he had done everything in his power to assist the young student. Than he stopped and he placed both hand on the back of the chair he had been setting in and leaned over a bit, “and congratulations, I’m sure he’ll accept your proposal.”

[William Saxton]

If Jack knew the words he might freak out. Then again he might now. Maybe he was trying to tell him something. Maybe Will needed to five him a call. Something needed to done, so he wasn't freaking out. It just bothered him.

"Thank you," he looked up to meet the doctors eyes. "I really hope he does."

Will caught something in the Doctors eyes. A glint of sadness maybe. A glint of something that he should have caught before now. The doctor could try to hide it but Will could see the pain. Something lost inside, that couldn't be fixed.

Will stood and placed his notebook in his bag. He looked back up at the Doctor. "I'm sorry for what ever happened," he said with little emotion. "I can see it hurt." He gave a faint smile. "I'm here to listen if you want to tell."

[Dr. Robert Peterson]

The counselor stopped and offered a smile, “I envy you Will… it’s a wonderful thing to be in love.”

He nearly left it at that but after a brief pause offered up a little more to his young friend, “I loved a woman once, she died just before we were to be married.”

The memory of his love was almost too painful for him to keep the floodgates of tears at bay at least long enough to exit the room and seek refuge in the solitude of his office. It was not something he was ever allowed to do growing up, crying in public that is. Such displays were condemned as being something for sissies and wimps, both of which he had wished to avoid being. Even though his training had vouched for the benefit of letting out such painful feelings in a torrent of emotions he just could not bring himself to do it. Perhaps if he did he could put behind him some of the emotional baggage that hung so heavily on him. He might even be able to change his dream form from a boy that was frightened so easily to a man who could defend himself against the onslaughts of his tormenters. He might become closer to being to being whole, something both the men in the room needed to do.

Robert sighed still looking at the young man, “don’t waist your chance will, don’t waist it.”

With a nod and a smile to help hide his pain he turned once again towards the door, “good luck son,” he offered and than disappeared through the doorway hoping his departure was soon enough to hide the tear that threatened to overflow its banks and run headlong down his cheek. Robert walked with his head a little lowered away from the young man. He raised a had to brush away the single glittering droplet that represented the loss he still felt keenly.

Telling others about his personal problems was something the counselor did rarely. He had told more to Will than he had to most and by doing so showed his regard for the young man. Though in many ways they were quite different they still had similarities that were undeniable.

[William Saxton]

Will watched the doctor. Love was a curl trick put on this world but sometimes you got lucky. It was a dance one had to learn and most times learning is hard. It was a dance Will had to learn and he did. He found the one he loved. It was a gift he would cherish.

Will noticed the tears building up in the man's eyes. He had lost his love. Will didn't want to go through that. He could see the pain riding on the man's back like a heavy coat you couldn't take off. It was just something extra to carry around. And will knew how hard it was to do that, he did it with his emotions. It was a daily thing with him. Get up and remember who you really are.

"I won't waist it," he watched the man leave. He was brought up the same way, crying in public is for wimps. Will picked up his things and left the room. He would talk to the Doctor later.