A Dream Disturbed

It was a struggle to get his massive bulk on one of the beds, but somehow Satine managed. He was still bleeding, which in and of itself was odd - Nazael was practically immortal, and healed much quicker than this. Satine watched, a dark knot of worry and helplessness forming in her chest.

“Dream…’ou need to rest, mon chere.” Satine moved to get a blanket, but a gentle hand pulled her back.

“Please. Just…stay with me awhile?” His eyes reached out to her, pleadingly, silver eyes glinting in the faint light.

“Of course, mon amour.” Satine knew something was wrong…And so did he. She took his hand in her own, soothing him, and sat down next to him on the bed. He looked so pale, so fragile, laying there, not at all as she remembered him. “Dream…”

“Hush Satine. No time for meaningless words. Not now.” He raised himself a bit to look at her, wincing with the effort. “Satine, I love you. Never forget it.”

“Oh, Dream-heart…” Satine stifled a sob, smiling sweetly at him. “As long as I leeve, I ‘ill never forget eet. I am so sorry, ‘ou should never…Forgeev me, Dream-heart, for being a fool.”

“There is nothing to forgive. What’s past is past.” He collapsed back on to the bed, drained, his voice a harsh whisper. “I am so tired, Satine. I’m not cut out for this kind of life.” A gentle smile crossed his face, and then nothing. Dreamblood slipped into the sweet arms of death.

Satine stood there for a long moment, watching him. Not a single tear fell, nor a another heart wrenching sign to show she was distraught at his passing. Her heart couldn’t take loosing him like this…her guilt was overwhelming…Her mind, already half crazed from Lord Valen’s threat of suicide, couldn’t wrap itself around this. And so, Satine stood there, watching him…and quite simply broke.

Ages, or moments, Satine couldn’t tell, later, Claurice found them - Dream dead, and Satine still holding his hand, unable to move. Something about the woman’s presence shook Satine. She squeezed his hand gently one last time. Her voice, once so fluid, was completely lackluster, no trace of her accent left. “Good-bye mon amour. Je t’aime.” A single tear fell down her cheek, her only outward concession to the pain that was threatening to rip her apart. She lay a gentle kiss on his forehead before laying him out. He looked so peaceful, laying there, like so many a night he had laid in her arms…A true angel, simply sleeping, ready at any moment to open his eyes and take her into his arms.

Satine broke a little more.

“Shit.” Claurice rubbed her face in her hand, sighing. “Shit.” Satine barely noticed she was there, lost in a dark haze…And as she speaks again, it is to no one, but perhaps her own dieing heart.

“Absolve, we beseech Thee, O Lord, the soul of Thy servant, from every bond of sin, that being raised in the glory of the resurrection, he may be refreshed among the Saints and Elect, Through Christ our Lord. Amen.” The litany of the prayer soothed her, allowing Satine to continue. “I treasure the gift you gave me, Dream-heart. You will never be forgotten, nor will your deed.” Satine looked up at Claurice finally. “He was an Angel, Claurice.”

“Half at least.”

“In his heart, he was.”

“Satine... what will you do now?”

“What do you mean, Claurice?”

“You're going to stay at the Manse, right?”

Satine inhaled a shuddering breath, before continuing. “I..I do not know. I went to him for all the wrong reasons, Claurice. And managed to love him for all the right ones…” A thoughtful pause. “I went to Sharkhead tonight to save a little girl's life…And it cost me far more than I dared dream.” Satine closes here eyes, falling in the trance of the story, reliving it as she spoke.

“Tonight..Kitten called, needed my help. I owe her my life, so I agreed.”

“I was supposed to draw an ill from the child's mind...but her bloodlust wouldn't let her go. I offered my throat, so that none would die. She didn't deserve the guilt of a death on her head at such an age.”

“Mm.” Claurice regarded her flatly.

“She fed, but I was left weak...and so I called on the only person I could trust. I just needed him to bring me back here, let me rest. But...Some family goons jumped us. He fought; we barely managed to escape back here.”

“He...he complained of the bullets hurting far worse than they should...Said he needed rest, so I carried him here. And the rest...is history.” A short thoughtful pause. “He died so that little girl could live, as it were.”

Claurice just stood there. No recriminations. No judgement. Slowly, she nodded her head. Satine opened her eyes, a brief betrayal of her inner turmoil crossing her face before she simply retreated back into herself.

“Claurice...I cannot stay here.”

“You should.”

“I need to think.” And with that, Satine walked away, without so much as a glance back at the body of the man she had loved so dearly.