A memory floated into his restless sleep like a thin gauze, sterile and clean and all-consuming. He saw himself in the back of a car, dressed in formal clothes, aged perhaps six or seven. Though the eyes of his former self he gazed at the woman who was turned to face him, seated in the front and speaking. Her pearl necklace seemed to give off a matte glow in the morning sunlight. He tried to hear the words, but they seemed very far away. Instead, he saw little letters floating everywhere, bouncing off the windows and the padded interior of the car, moving as if they were submerged in water. He didn't want to let on that he saw this, so he just nodded to whatever the woman seemed to say.

Switch to normal view again. He sees the child get out of the car and walk towards the old building they were parked in front of. The gates are wide open and one could hear the laughter of children. Sweet, melodic laughter that sounds more like the ringing of tiny little bells. The boy walks steadily on, other children seeming to ignore his entire presence. Perfection spills over the brim and drowns the entire sequence. Then something changes. It's not something he sees, but rather something he feels. A numbness, a void, somewhere deep within. As if his blood is turning cold as it courses through his veins. Freezing from the inside out. Darkness seeps it's way through the gauze of this momentary happiness. All-consuming. Everything around him is heated from within but he is watching this with ice being pumped through his heart. Blood and flames battle with darkness. The children turn to skeletons, continuing to happily chat amongst themselves. But the boy continues to walk to a building that seems to slip farther and further away, unharmed. He looks back, for a moment, but the woman and the car are gone. He has no choice but to keep going.

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Willis woke up with a gasp, searching for breath and attempting to realize where he was. In a rather paranoid way, he looked for a familiar piece of something to grab onto, somewhere to start. His eyes searched for any identifiable marks. Off the ceiling, down to the wall, the dresser, the floor. Good. At least he was in the same place he had been when he fell asleep. Breathing heavily, he turned his head ever so slightly to the left, eyes frozen in a state of near panic. Austin shifted in his sleep, woken also by the other's movements. A little whimper, intended only for himself, escaped his lips as the petite blonde rose on one elbow. He was naked save for a pair of boxer shorts and the thin silver chain around his neck.

"Will? What's the matter, did you have a bad dream?" came the inevitable question, spoken in a delicate, truly concerned as much as Willis would've liked to respond, he found his voice lost somewhere in the pits of his stomach. The world was cast into muffled silence, heartbeats echoing through the empty walls of his body. His deep brown eyes, however, spoke volumes. A small sigh butterflied it's way from Austin to the world, or in this case, to Willis in particular. The sigh was followed by a sentence, like a storybook train making it's merry way to the castle on the mountain. "You had another one of those dreams again, didn't you? We really should... you know, talk about them more. It's not good to just keep it all bottled up like that."

This time he was able to summon up some vague outline of sound. "A-austin... "
A slim finger was placed to his lips, dealing the sweet, deadly silence that often lingered around in these times. Carefully, Austin gathered the shivering, scared form into his arms, sitting up against the headrest. Willis' cheek was pressed against smooth, warm skin. He sniffled like a child, curled up, and closed his eyes. The warmth from Austin's body slowly and steadily seeped into his own, filling his empty chambers with light. Soon enough, he stopped shaking. He felt like he should say something, like he should justify this pathetic episode, but no words were necessary. A still, perfect silence echoed in his brain and in this room. He felt himself once again drift off to sleep.

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Willis and Austin met at a bookstore some seven years ago. On their first date, they drank coffee and talked about the human condition. By the time they had finished, it started to rain. The pair took the train to Austin's house, stripped off their clothes, and ran outside in the hills behind his fence. It was a wonderfully liberating experience of which they have never spoken to anyone, not even to each other. It was sacred in it's secrecy. The mere mention of the event would forever break it's wonderous nature. Naturally, things began to build up. On Sunday mornings, Willis would back his backpack full of books, and candy, and other items, and ride the train. Austin would always be waiting for him on the platform, always at 10:30 in the morning when the train arrived. No matter the weather, he always wore a blue scarf that would cover his mouth and nose. They would then go to Austin's house and make out, or read to each other, or simply have tea with the candy and cookies Willis had brought for just such an occasion. The whole arrangement seemed ludicrous in it's uniformity, but for them, it was a thin thread of hope in otherwise hectic and meaningless lives.

As time went on, Willis came to depend more and more on this enigmatic figure known as Austin. After the horrors of high school have passed and the turmoils of a university education began, he looked back and realized that he was in fact the rock he was clinging on to, his only means of support. Of course, this puzzled Willis. The thought of having to depend on someone else any more than society required was scary to him. He was afraid to find himself completely under Austin's spell. Although it's not as if the other had done something to put this inferiority into play. On the contrary, he acted completely natural. It was like an innate power, a magnetism no one could explain. This "magnetism" took on different forms and came quite unexpectedly to those around him. There was something else about Austin that Willis tried very hard to remember, but to this day, it was like a hole at the end of the universe - uncompromising and unyielding, a giant boulder in the middle of a road. From time to time, however, he would get little glimpses, like torn-off bits of paper. Someone screaming, or a rusty, metallic taste, and a loud screech that seemed almost mechanical. He was almost certain these pieces had to be part of that black hole, but in all honesty... he didn't want to find out.

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When Willis woke up again, he was alone. Sunlight spilled in through chintzy flower-patterned curtains that Austin had picked out himself three years before. Rolling over in bed, he winced at the momentary flash of a headache that exploded like a firecracker right behind his forehead. Birds chirped, dogs barked, lawn mowers roared, each a piece in the jigsaw of the American Dream. Willis closed his eyes and listened to these sounds, blending like a chameleon into his surroundings. The pain in his stomach and head was roughly gone, nightmares being chased away by the rays of Saturday morning. Letting out a small, private sigh, he looked over at the perfectly smooth side of the bed next to him.