Beyond the Gateway (Cranksepticeye)

Nine

Jack sighed, and his head sank to rest on his forearm. He loved this part of the play. The chorus of fairy singers had wonderful voices, and the time from "Philomel" song was an authentic Elizbethan roundel. It was strange, though. Even though Jack had found himself humming the medallist constantly for the past few weeks, today it was as if he'd never really heard it before.
I guess that's what happens when you're onstage instead of backstage, he thought, smiling to himself. Jack felt his eyelids begin to drool as the murmuring refrain flowed over him like a babbling brook.

"Never harm
Nor spell not charm
Come out leader nigh.
So good night, with lullaby."

Dimly, as if from a great distance, he heard the actress playing the fairy names Cobweb say her line: "Hence, away! Now all is well. One aloof stand sentinel."
That was Joe's cue to enter as Oberon, sneaking near to anoint Titania's eyes with a magic potion as part of his trickery. Jack lay still, waiting to hear Joe's mellifluous voice. Behind closed eyelids, he sensed the lights growing warmer. They must have turned a spotlight on him.
Part of him wanted to open his eyes to see how the lights looked, but he was just too comftorble. Anne anyway, they were running this scene straight through without intervening "lovers" scenes, so he's see soon enough- just as soon as Joe said his lines.
"What thou seest when thou dost wake,do it for thy their love take."
Joe's voice sounded way different than normal- the words hissing like a snake, sibilant and sinuous in his ears. The sound guy was definitely playing around. It was a cool effect. Creepy.
"Love and languish for his sake."
The rest of the line fell away into silence, and Jack opened his eyes to find himself on a mossy bank. On all sides, the forest loomed, a soaring black battlement of gnarled and knotted branches, but in tiny, moon-strewn jewel of his grove, all was pristine and beautiful.
He turned and saw someone standing in the shadows. Long brown hair waving over his forehead covering part of his eyes, bringing out the color of an ocean blue. A face he knew. Jack felt the blood rush from his head as his heart thumped wildly. Moonlight glowed in his eyes, turning his gaze to fire, and the stark white branches of birch trees arched above his head as though he wore the antlers of a king stag. He was clothed only in leggings made of supple, well-known leather and belted with silver; his feet and torso were bare. Around his neck was a thin braided cord from which hung an iron-gray medallion. A dark line of glossy blood seeped from beneath the charm to trickle halfway down his chest.
What thou seest when thou dost wake . . .
He smiled. It was the saddest expression Jack had ever seen, full of unspeakable longing and heartache. Jack felt his own heart tear in two.
Far off in the distance, he heard the harsh, kerning cry of a hunting hawk.

Jack's eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start, glancing wildly around.
He was in the theater, on the bower set. Frantically, he twisted over his left shoulder. For an instant, he saw him. He stood in the shadowed corridor of the stage-left wings. Instead of heartsick longing, however, his expression was one of shocked surprise. His blue eyes met his for the briefest instant, and then he was gone. I
"Much as I do not advocate the use of artificial stimulants,could somebody please provide our fairy king with some bloody No-Doz before next rehersal?" Quentin shouted from the audience.
Dreaming. He'd been asleep and dreaming. . . .
Jack felt the heat creeping up his neck into his face as he realized that, aside from his director's basilisk stare, there were about a dozen other pairs of eyes on him, all expressing various degrees of annoyance and amusement.
"Right. That's it for today, then, children." Quentin got up and strode toward the direction of his office." either get some sleep, Mr McLoughlin, or dial down the Method acting, hmm?"
Jack glanced around apologetically at the rest of the cast, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. His gaze fell on Alex Oakland, the actor playing Bottom, sitting off to the side of the bower platform with his fake Asia's head tucked under one arm. Fortunately, he was smiling.
"Jeez, McLoughlin," he said. "Did I bore you?"
"Oh, God, Alec- I'm sorry! I didn't get much sleep last night and . . ."
" Don't worry about it. " Alex waved a hand in dismissal. "I don't think the Q was really going to do much with our scene anyway- it's almost quittin' time."
He stood and belted the prop muscle head. Jack stared at it, chagrined, abruptly reminded of the horse in his bathtub. Alec held out a hand to help him to his feet.
"You know," he said as Jack stood, " I've been meaning to ask . . . do you want to grab a coffee together sometime?"
Pain flashes in Jack's head, accompanied by the dream image of the shadowy figure in the forest.
"Jack? Are you okay?"
" Yeah. . . "
Alec was looking at him, concerned.
"Yes, thanks. Just sleep deprivation, I think. Um- coffee. Coffee would be nice. Sometime."
" You look like you could use some, " he joked, a hopeful expression across his handsome, freckled face. "Wanna go find a Starbucks?"
Jack laughed and held up a hand "Maybe not so much today. I think I'm just going to head home and try and get some rest . . . you know?"
"Sure. Right." Alec nodded and backed off a step.
Jack felt vaguely guilty and more than a little confused by his own reaction. A week earlier, he would have jumped at the chance to go out with Alec. Now? Now he couldn't see past the twisting branches of his dream forest- and the dark -haired guy who stood beneath them, his eyes full of anguish. A moment of awkward silence ensued. Jack reached out a hand to scratch the multi-year prop behind one fake, fuzzy ear.
"Rain check?" he said, and tried to inject some enthusiasm into his voice.
"Absolutely!" Alec nodded, and his smile halfway returned. "See you tomorrow," he said before looking off toward the dressing rooms.
After a minute he followed in Alec's wake, walking a deliberate path through the darkened wings where he'd seen - where he'd thought he'd seen - someone. But, of course, there was no one there.