Chapter 23
twenty-three
Ash
“It’s time.”
My pronouncement hangs in the air as I slide under the covers, fluffing my pillow. Dylan starts to climb in after me before hesitating.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I firm my lips and nod even as my stomach roils. “I’ve practiced every night for a month, and Greta’s condition hasn’t changed. We’ve waited—she has waited—long enough.”
The last few weeks have been exhausting but rewarding. I’d been too hung up on mourning to rein in my dreams after my dad passed, and then I’d spent the better part of five years suppressing my ability with sleeping pills. This is the first time I’ve seriously practiced dreamwalking in years.
I’m not sure if it’s Dylan’s ceaseless encouragement that’s helped me remain focused or something intrinsic to Dylan himself—the way he calms and centers me, perhaps.
The way he gives me hope. Regardless, constant dreamwalks, most with Dylan by my side, have greatly honed my control.
I rarely slip now, keeping my thoughts and emotions firmly in check so that the only influences on a dream are the ones I intend.
And while I have no idea if that will be enough to do anything for Greta, each passing day only makes me more anxious to try. It’s not fair that things at school have mostly gone back to normal while she’s still trapped in a coma.
She’d done her best to help me. Now, it’s my turn to return the favor.
Dylan slips into bed behind me, snuggling against my back. His comforting warmth permeates me. While I’ve proven I don’t need to be in the same room to dreamwalk with someone, especially when I have a strong connection to them, it’s definitely nice to have the company.
Especially for a night like tonight.
“And you’re sure you want me to come with you?” Dylan asks, his voice worried. “I don’t want to add to your mental strain.”
I twist so that I can see his anxious face and offer him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You won’t. You’ve been there for practically all my practice runs. If anything, it’ll throw off my groove more if you’re not there.”
He bites his lip, still seeming uncertain, and I swallow, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Besides, what if I need you? I…I want you there with me.”
Dylan’s nervous expression clears, replaced by a small grin. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t want to let you down.”
We share a soft kiss that starts to grow more heated before I pry my lips away, twisting back around. As much as I’d love to get lost in him for a while, we have a different sort of mission tonight.
“I’ve got to admit,” Dylan says as we settle in to sleep, “these last couple weeks really have been incredible.” He presses closer against my back, his hands gliding across my sides and over my stomach.
“And not just because of the dream sex. We’ve been to so many awesome places, seen so many amazing things, all without having to spend a dime. ”
“We’ve had plenty of close calls, too,” I remind him. “Like that time we went to our imagined version of London and got stalked by Jack the Ripper.”
“Imaginary Jack the Ripper. He couldn’t have actually hurt us. Plus, at least it kept things exciting.”
I grunt my agreement. “True. Now, be quiet so we can go to sleep.”
Dylan obediently falls silent, and I try to relax, regulating my breathing. In the quiet dark, however, my nerves spike as the reality of what we’re about to do sinks in.
How the hell do you wake someone up from a coma using their dreams? I may have gotten better at controlling our experiences this past month, but dreaming up a fake version of London seems a far cry from working an honest-to-God miracle.
Behind me, Dylan shifts. “You okay?” he whispers. “I’ve never heard anyone be quiet so loudly before.”
“I’m fine,” I snap.
Dylan doesn’t reply for a span of seconds. “You know,” he finally ventures hesitantly, “you shouldn’t rush into this if you’re not ready.”
“I already told you, I’m ready!” I puff out a long breath, my jaw tightening. “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. But I’ll be fine.”
“Look, there’s no shame in waiting a couple more weeks. I’m sure Greta would understand if you—”
I spin around to face him, his startled face barely visible in the gloom. “All that pushing for me to embrace my power and now you’re trying to convince me not to use it? What the hell, Dylan!”
He sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want you to use your gift. You know I support what you’re trying to do for Greta. It’s just…I also know how much this means to you. I’m worried about what’ll happen if you fail. No amount of practice or increased control guarantees this will work.”
My annoyance ebbs as I stare into his hazel eyes creased with concern. My fingers flit over his. “I know how crazy this all is—trust me. But I can’t keep delaying forever. I have to try.” I take a deep breath. “Even if I’m terrified.”
His hand finds my cheek. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right here with you.”
The kiss he presses to my lips is precisely the balm I need.
As I turn back around, however, I can’t help the tight knot of worry in my gut—the same one that’s always there when I dreamwalk with Dylan.
As much as I crave his presence and tell myself I’d never do anything to hurt him, there are no guarantees.
I hadn’t meant to hurt Harvey or my parents either.
For better or worse, though, Dylan’s carved out a spot in my heart, and I won’t—can’t—send him away without shattering in two.
Sleep eventually comes, Dylan and me opening our eyes onto what Dylan’s affectionately termed the ‘proto-dream.’ It’s as good a name as any for the rainbow swirl of infinite possibility that surrounds us.
We don’t linger in that liminal space long. After our practice sessions, I’ve grown adept at navigating its currents by focusing my mind. Like that first time over a month ago, I picture Greta, forming a pathway to her waking dream.
I share a glance with Dylan, raising an eyebrow.
He responds with a firm nod. Grabbing his hand, I step into the portal I’d opened, reality lurching around us.
In an instant that feels like an eternity, we arrive at the beautiful mountainous vista I’d reached once before.
Greta stands in the exact same spot I’d left her, gazing out into the distance.
Dylan steps away from me, looking about. “It’s a stunning view.” His eyes narrow on Greta. “Even if she doesn’t seem capable of enjoying it. Was she like this the last time you came here?”
I nod. “It’s as if she’s trapped in place, unable to break free.” I take a deep breath. “Until now.”
Marshalling my courage, I march up to her and rest a hand on her shoulder. It’s strangely cool to the touch. Then, bracing my feet atop the long grass, I imagine Greta awake.
Like before, the dreamscape wavers, the forest and mountains winking in and out of existence.
This time, however, I don’t relent, bringing every drop of my will to bear.
A sharp pain lances through my skull, and I stumble, almost losing my grip on Greta.
I grit my teeth, fighting to hold on as I envision her alive and awake.
Greta, waving at me between classes. Greta, smiling and unfazed no matter how much vitriol I threw at her. Greta, always so eager to lend a helping hand even when I didn’t deserve it.
The pain in my head intensifies, everything else fading away until only the bright white agony remains. I’m on the verge of giving up when I feel a soft hand grip mine and squeeze.
Dylan.
His encouragement floods me, beating back the worst of the pain as his determination joins with and renews my own. He might not be a dreamwalker like I am, but here in this place, his support gives me everything I need, his shared will imbuing me with the strength I need to keep going.
All at once, a great shockwave rips through my core, the force of it dragging me to my knees. It’s as if my entire world has ruptured apart despite everything around me remaining exactly the same. Everything…except for one tiny little detail.
“Ash?” Greta shivers, her frozen body shivering to life. “Dylan? What are you doing here?” She blinks and looks around. “For that matter, where is here?”
Dylan takes one look at me panting on the ground, then steps forward to take the lead, offering Greta a hesitant smile. “Hi, Greta. It’s, um, kind of a long story.”
I catch my breath and shakily rise as Dylan explains her car accident and the resulting coma. She takes the news in stride—better than I probably would have in her shoes. When Dylan’s done, she glances between us, wearing an uncharacteristic frown.
“While I appreciate you coming to wake me up, you realize how many unanswered questions that leaves, right? I mean, it’s not exactly normal to visit someone else in their dreams.” I share another look with Dylan, and she raises her hand.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.
However you managed it, I’m really grateful you did. ”
We’ve come this far—might as well go all the way.
Sighing, I say, “I’ve been able to dreamwalk since I was a kid. That’s how Dylan and I reached you. Ever since you went into a coma, I’ve been practicing so that I could try to help.”
Greta beams at me, her smile as radiant as I remember. “Ash, that’s incredible! I knew I sensed something special about you, from that very first day we met.”
A light breeze billows around us as familiar guilt constricts my chest and clogs my throat.
The words I’ve held back for the past month finally come spilling out.
“I’m sorry I was such an ass to you before.
I don’t like it when people get too close because of my power, but that’s no excuse for how I treated you. You deserved better.”