*grimaces and thinks he never wants to hear you apologize again, not for asking perfectly reasonable (perfectly concerned) questions* Don't be sorry, Doc. Honestly. Don't be. No one else asks and means it the way you do.
*presses his lips together for a moment, gaze lowered* It's almost always the same dream. Some things change, but most of it just... stays. *slips into a soft monotone* I'm always running through the Fountain. I recognize the corridors, but they never seem to end, they just keep twisting and turning around corners, and I never see anyone else. (The world's falling apart and I'm alone.) The lights are usually flickering, and there's a sound like water (pipes bursting and flooding) running. *rapid blink* I... I hear someone behind me. Chasing me. (Her heels are too sharp and too fast and it sounds like death.) I know who it is, and I know they're going to catch me.
*shakes his head slightly, sensing the question coming* I can't say who it is, but it's someone... something horrible. *inhales slowly, fingers twitching under the pillow* I run until I get to the basement door, and when I o-open it—it's dark, and it's flooded, but I see someone on the stairs. *swallows and inhales again (can't seem to get enough air)* Always someone I love. (Ecthelion, twisted and cold and broken. Glorfindel, charred beyond recognition, except I saw the Eagle lift him. Elemmakil, grim and bloodied, too young to fall.) Always dead.