darker_london | Dreams of Death (Thomas)

Thomas' birthday had been wonderful. Almost his entire family had come to be with him, and his best friend had been well enough to share it with him. Mara was back. Jordan was going to be fine. And Mary was here. Thomas had spent the previous year at a Spectre concert in Wolverhampton and they had had sucha wonderful time together afterwards, just them. It had been before all the shit with Kat and everything had seemed so simple. This year, though, even when things were complicated, Thomas was even happier. He didn't have to fade away soon. He got to stay. He had a family and a baby on the way. He had everything he had ever wanted. When the party ended and the concert began, Thomas was on such a high, he thought he could never come down.

Thomas was wrong.

After what one could only refer to as an epic birthday roll in the sack with Spectre and Mary (though not at the same time, as Thomas had no desire for that and he knew they didn't either) Thomas had fallen asleep between his husband and his wife. And that was when the dreams had started.

Thomas was standing in a farmhouse, which he was fairly sure was empty. He recognised it, but he didn't understand where the family was. He was supposed to be helping them. Their adopted daughter was possessed. How could he help them if he couldn't find them. "Peter!?" He called out, wondering if his best friend was with them. Or maybe the darkness had swallowed him up too. "Peter?"

No one answered him. Thomas moved through the darkened living room, his legs bashing into the coffeetable. "Balls." He grunted as pain shot through his leg, but he didn't cry out. Something told him this wasn't the place for screaming. At least, not yet.

Once Thomas had felt his way along the wall to the stairs, he realised Peter was probably waiting for him at the top. Thomas took the stairs two by two until the reached the landing, and he turned right, instinctively knowing where to go. The bedroom he let himself into was somehow darker than the rest of the house. "Hello?" Thomas asked quietly. "Is...is anyone there?"

"I'll eat you alive, Monk."

Thomas froze. He knew that voice. It was Svetlana. But he had made his peace with her. This wasn't right. She was a loving person now. Surely she wouldn't hurt him. "Svetlana? Please. Is Peter here?"

"I've taken care of Daddy." Her voice answered him out of the shadows.

Oh god. "Wha...what did you do to him?!"

"You don't think he got brain weeds twice by chance do you?" Svetlana's voice answered him. "Daddy did a bad bad thing. And I made him pay."

"No! Please don't!"

"You're going to pay too, Monk."

Thomas backed up until he was flush with the wall. Sweat beaded up all over his body and he let out a soft whimper. His heart raced so fast he was sure it would explode. And then, from the shadows, he was grabbed. He couldn't see Svetlana, but he could feel her hands grip the sides of his face. "Please don't!" Thomas cried out in fear. He had just gotten his life back. He couldn't lose it again.

"Goodbye, Monk."

Thomas felt his head twist around with such force that his scream was cut off abruptly. There was a snap, and then nothing.

Thomas awoke with a scream that undoubtedly disturbed the entire household. He didn't know where he was at first, and he practically jumped from the bed, crawling over both Spectre and Mary to get away from them. He was cowering in the corner by the time they were able to calm him down.

In all his years, alive and dead, Thomas had never experienced a dream quite so horrific and real as to make him fear for his life even after the last weave of the dream had fallen away.