Morning Terrors

{A/N: Jack here, with one of my least favorite dreams ever. I read it for the last reading day in CW, and I shook the entire time and almost cried near the end. So enjoy. :D }



She nudges the cat gently with her foot, and it plops to the floor with a soft fwump. The girl gets thrown a murderous glare before the feline stalks out of the room, tail held high in defiance. A cough reminds her why she’d gotten rid of the cat, and she turns on her side to smile at the one beside her. “What time is it?” he asks groggily, and she shakes her head with a small laugh.

“It’s probably time to get up. I’m not really sure,” she admits, burying her head back in the pillow. “But I think we should pretend our clocks are broken and not go to school,” she adds around a mouthful of material.

“Somehow I doubt that’d work… Come on, rise and shine! Your first class starts in… Like an hour!” He picks her up and sets her on her feet despite her protests.

“Jerk,” she mumbles as she shuffles off to the shower. Standing under the stream of water, she smiles to herself. She can’t believe they’re finally living together, after so many years of separation. She can finally sleep at night, and he finally has someone to tell him they love him first thing every morning.

Once she’s finally dressed and ready, she bounds into the kitchen to find a note stuck to the fridge, and she scans it quickly. Went to get coffee at 7:50. Should be back by 8:05 or so. Will kick people out of the line at Starbucks if have to. Her giggle stops short when she looks at the clock. It’s digital numbers report it is close to half-past. Hitting redial on her cell phone, she settles on the counter above the cat’s bowl and nervously jiggles her foot. After five rings, the two phones connect, and she breathes a sigh of relief into the phone. “Oh God, sweetheart, you scared me-”

She’s cut off by a voice that isn’t one she knows. “Ma’am? Ah… I’m afraid there’s been an accident… This isn’t your husband.”

“Fiancé,” she corrects in a whisper. “What’s happened?”

“We- We aren’t sure yet. Nobody involved is in a good enough shape to tell us all the details.” She sucks in her breath and heads to the door, slipping on a pair of his shoes as she goes. Slamming the door behind her, she’s gone.

The tinny voice coming through the phone continues to talk to the empty kitchen, but it’s met with silence. The cat has retreated to the bedroom and is once more lying on the bed. In his now-vacant spot.