Agent Washington (completelysane) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-07-02 21:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, agent washington |
Who Agent Washington
What Wash has his first Dream
Where Dreamscape
When July 2nd to July 3rd (posting early as I wanted to get this done before I left for the weekend)
Rating/Warnings Low; Spoilers for RvB Season 10
Status complete
There are those who can tell when they are dreaming. Who, when finding themselves in a dreamscape, can look around and notice the inconsistencies, oddities and absurd logic that make a dream a dream. These people can tell their dreamselves they are in a dream and instantly have full control of the dream and what goes on in it, change it, bend it to their will and become something like a god in their own little fantasy world.
Washington was not one of those people. And this was not one of those dreams.
That may or may not have been a blessing, depending on how one decided to look at it.
The first thing he was aware of wasn’t the house he was standing on a porch outside of, or that he was no longer in southern California, but somewhere cooler, with tall lush green trees. He didn’t notice that it appeared as if he were viewing the scene as though he were looking through a video camera. What had his attention was the blonde woman standing in front of him.
He knew her. Her name was Allison. Somewhere his sleeping self was confused. He didn’t know any Allisons. But he knew this Allison. Knew her well. She was someone important to him. Someone he loved and loved very much.
She was laughing and smiling. She had a carefree laugh and an easy warm smile. He loved them both, they filled him with a kind of warm happiness Wash had never felt before. They made him want to smile and laugh as well, something he hadn’t really wanted to do for what seemed like a long time.
“Leonard, put that down,” she was saying through her laughter. She reached for him, tried to take the camera away. Wash pulled away from her and took her hand. She laughed and pulled it out, giving him a kind of teasing chastising look someone would give to a misbehaving lover. He was laughing as well, he knew that he was, he could feel it in his chest, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear his voice at all. This didn’t bother him in the slightest. This wasn’t about him. This was about her.
“You’re going to make me late,” she said trying to sound scolding, but failing.
Late?
She was dressed in fatigues and combat gear. She was a soldier. On the ground near the door to the house was a green army duffle bag. She was getting ready to leave. She had to report in for her next assignment. She was going to be gone for a while. She was a hero, going off to keep the peace and protect those who were unable to protect themselves.
She was his hero.
“Leonard, come on,” she said, reaching for the camera again.
He was proud of her. So damn proud of the kind hearted and strong person she was. Knowing her had made him a better person. Yet, at the same time, he was afraid. Afraid for her. He was always afraid whenever she left like this. He video taped her whenever she did. Just in case.
“I have to go,” she was still smiling, but her smile had turned sad.
Don’t go. Don’t go yet. Stay here with me just a little longer.
She looked at him - into the camera - her smile was rueful and calm. He should have felt reassured. Instead, though, he felt only dread.
“Don’t say goodbye,” she told him.
Allison…
She always told him not to say goodbye. Goodbyes were so final. When someone said goodbye it was like they were gone for good. Allison always came back. Without goodbye, it was as though she hadn’t really left. That’s what she always told him.
The camera’s view jumped, as though a piece of footage had been edited out abruptly. Allison was standing by her duffle bag, out of reach. She was still and looking at him. Laughter gone, her smile wiped from her face. She was a soldier and she looked frighteningly like one. The time for fooling around was over. She was leaving and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
“I hate goodbyes.” Her voice echoed over the scene, as though coming from far away and everywhere at once.
There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach. Dread and anxiety. Fear. Just as he felt whenever Allison left. Like this would be the last time he would see her, see her smile, hear her laugh, feel her touch.
He wanted to go with her. He wanted desperately to go with her, but he couldn’t. He was no fighter, no soldier. He would only be in the way. He had learned that a long, long time ago. That he couldn’t go with her broke his heart.
I love you. Please be safe. Please come back to me soon.
He never said goodbye.
*
Wash woke with the sun on his face. He was laying on the couch where he’d fallen asleep the night before. His television was still on, tuned to one of the networks. The local news was on. A far-too chipper ancher was delivering all the previous evenings goings-on in LA. What those goings-on were, Wash didn’t know. He wasn’t paying attention.
He lay on the couch and stared up at the ceiling of his living room. That girl. Her face, her laugh Wash could remember them clearly. He remained still for several moments, waiting for the inevitability of the dream to fade away into the ether of the previous night.
Only it refused to let him go.
Even after he dragged himself up from his couch and forced his stiff body to complete the morning’s routine of bladder relief, showering and getting breakfast into his belly, the dream - she - stayed with him. Was this what Gale had been talking about the other night at the bar? Was this one of those valardreams he’d been warned about?
As Wash went about his day all he could think about was her. Allison. He had to see her again. He had to make sure she was alright.
It was crazy and it was stupid, but Wash believed was in love with the girl in his Dream.