Re: dream: graham/jake
[Even dreams could harbor guilt, and he could read it in his father's words now. He could see it written in the man's face, but it was not an expression that Jake knew to build from. He remembered his father always sounding a little sad in those long distance phonecalls, Facetime smiles that were genuine but could never quite fill his eyes with mirth. He knew that his father had regrets, and Jake had come to terms long ago with the fact that he might just be one of those regrets, whether his father would ever say so or not.] Its cool, dad. Don't worry about it, I didn't mean anything by it.
[As a child, he'd seen his father as a wounded man. Even if there were unresolved issues and many things left unsaid on his part, Jake didn't want to hurt the man anymore than he already was.] Forget it. [He said with a genuine smile that made all of those acting classes worth every penny.
Jake looked around the tenebrous room with very little recognition. Muscle memory made it familiar, walking down these halls, turning right or left. But even if it felt like it should have been the same, something was very wrong with this place now. The hairs on the back of his neck were stiff as hackles. Incipient shadows that made sussurant sounds in the corners, ones that thickened over stretches of dream-distorted time, nearly fleshed out and solid when he looked at them again.]
Dad? [He asked uncertainly as the shadow began to form something real.]