Warm Bodies: The Little Brown Bear

The Singer

Despair, raw and suffocating, hung over him in the darkness as his body shook in deep sobs. Everything was gone. The yawning emptiness in his chest was bottomless. Julie...

God... no... He held her tight, as if he could somehow bring her into himself, split a piece of his soul and bring her back to life. But it was useless... he was lost. The tears would not stop.

"Rowan... god, please wake up baby, I'm here, I'm right here..."

Someone was holding him, brushing their warm hands against his face, stroking his brow... that touch, he knew that touch.

The body in his arms was moving...

"R... please! Please wake up... everything's okay!"

R slowly came back to himself, pulling up through a deep well of grief as the dream drew away from his body. Someone was sobbing, and he realized dully, that it was his voice... his throat the sounds were coming from.

Blinking his eyes open to the darkness of his room, he felt the fresh trails of tears across his cheek and jaw, his face was damp with them.

And Julie was there, pressed up against him in the bed, wrapped in his arms, her eyes fraught with worry and wet with tears of her own. With soft fingers, she gently stroked his brow, as she searched his eyes desperately.

"R?" she whispered, her eyes wide with shock, "You're okay... I'm here..."

Seeing her, vividly alive in front of him, brought up the most desperate, irrational fear that she would be pulled from him again. With a choked sob he frantically drew her close, burying his head in her shoulder as she squeezed him back tightly.

"Dear god R, what happened?"

The dream. The fucking dream. He couldn't open his mouth, couldn't trust himself to talk without breaking down, and just shook his head against her warm skin.

"I'm here, I've got you," Julie whispered as she stroked the back of his head, "It was just a dream."

Nodding, he turned and pressed his lips against her cheek. Her skin was warm and flushed. She was here, she was real. She was alive.

Just a dream.

With a few deep, steadying breaths he gently pulled back from her, resting his head against his pillow as he wiped his hand down his tear-streaked face.

"Jesus," he whispered up to the ceiling, then turned to stare at her. She was watching him closely, frowning, her hand gently caressing his chest. Turning towards her, he reached out to brush her hair back from her temple, and the lazy waves of gold tickled his palm she leaned into his hand.

Alive. Brilliantly alive.

"Julie..." The urge to cry hit him again and he fought to clamp it down.

Not real, let it go.

Julie must have seen his struggle, because her frown deepened and fresh tears welled, "R... please tell me what's going on... please... I can't take this anymore..." Then her eyes fell and she started to cry.

"Oh god... I'm so sorry," drawing her in again, he cradled her head and whispered into her hair, "I will." A heavy sigh fell from him. "I'm just... scared."

Julie pulled back, frowning at him through the tears, "About what? You said that before, but I don't understand."

"I don't want you to see..."

"See what?"

"What I did, what I was. What's still a part of me."

Julie propped herself up on an elbow, and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "R," she started, and her tone suggested he was about to get a lecture. "I saw what you did, what you were, and it's not who you are anymore."