Dream a Little Dream of Me

Posted on Tue 9th Jun, 2020 @ 8:23pm by Purulence Addams

1,674 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Resolution
Location: Purulence's Bedroom, Queen Anne House
Timeline: MD 15 0330

(The Timeline might change slightly - approximately this day and time.)

Now that the last goodbye had been said, though Dallas might not know it, Victoria had spent a day haunting the places she'd most enjoyed on the starbase, and haunting the people she'd liked most, too, though they were unaware of it, of course. At the moment, it was well into what Starfleet called Gamma Shift, and some humans referred to as the wee hours. It was either too early or possibly too late to visit Dr. Graves. He had at least felt something of her, but not enough.

No help there, Ghostie Girl Victoria said aloud, knowing there was no one who would hear her, and probably no one who could, now that she had left Dallas. Business seemed unfinished, even though she was feeling a stronger pull back toward something somewhere else. What had she left undone?

Thinking of the few people she'd interacted with here, it occurred to her that there was one more person who had felt her presence. Purulence Addams. The woman was a little strange feeling, compared to others on the base. She could sense several who were different, most of them betazoids, trills, or other mental variants of the humanoid standard. Addams wasn't that. She was 100% human, but still not like other humans. Victoria had never been a scientist, so she didn't have any way of knowing what the difference was ... nor did it matter. The fact of it was all that was important.

Rather than drift, she shot down many levels of the base to Tivoli Gardens. She knew where Purulence lived, since she'd been there before. As she narrowed in on the house, she paused. There were others in the home, two who matched Purulence for humanity, but also held differences ... and one she wasn't quite sure of. She seemed human, but there was something even more off center about her.

It wasn't Victoria's puzzle to solve. Now she drifted a touch aimlessly. She didn't think there was anyone in the house who could actually see her, and yet she feared discovery. Feared why? What difference could it make? No one could actually hurt her now. That had already been accomplished. She wasn't vulnerable to anything in that house ... was she?

She came closer, observing the unusual stained glass in the door, and passing through it. As she did, she was startled to feel a touch of flame and heat, but it was gone as soon as she passed through. Turning, she looked back, realizing there was a fire involved in the glass ... and that someone was burning in it. She started to lift her hand to feel it again, but then dropped it. She would go out a different way. There was no sense in tempting what she didn't know.

She floated up the stairs, concentrating on the person she knew, though the others were all interesting ... just not enough to pull her away from her goal. Another time ... another place ... maybe she would have investigated. The door of the bedroom in which the Addams of her interest lay was open and she wafted inside, slipping up to the bed and looking down at the woman. She was sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling slowly. Victoria stroked her forehead and then let herself slip slightly under the surface of skin.

In deep slumber, Purulence Addams dreamed that she was at Forest Hills Stadium, listening to a performance by Bones, whose members were all onstage, bathed in blue spotlights. As Henry's girlfriend, she had always had what she would have termed an "orchestra seat" for their performances. Her true preference, however, was for sitting much farther in the back, where she didn't have to wear musician's earplugs. In the dream she sat far enough back from the stage that she could enjoy the music without being deafened and was able to see Ignatius play tonight. He was shredding his bass. Unlike the other band members, Ignatius wore no make-up and no studded, black leather costume. He played in jeans and a comfortable-looking work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. How entirely like him, Purulence thought. The man had no pretensions, whatsoever; it was just him and his bass, and the music screaming from it as the drums crescendoed behind him and the crowd went wild.

Someone stroked her forehead, and Purulence smiled, keeping her eyes closed. "Do I have to wake up already, Mom? I'm having this wonderful dream--"

Except it wasn't her mother. Purulence blinked at the dark-haired woman perched on her bed. She'd have sworn she'd never met this woman before, but she knew her. "Hey, I remember you. Victoria, right? You showed me the scary hit-man a while back. Did they ever catch him?"

"No, they never did. Can't win them all, can we?" the woman said softly, staying slightly submerged under Purulence's skin. She wasn't sure how she'd known this would work, but she was very pleased it did. "They sent someone else in his place, but he didn't succeed, either."

Changing the subject, she said, "I don't think I dream, because I don't seem to sleep. Tell me, what makes a good dream."

Purulence laughed. "There's this guy I'm interested in. I'm trying not to be interested in him, but he's growing on me. I dreamed he was part of a rock band whose members I'm friends with, and he was so him in the dream that I just felt--happy seeing him there."

Purulence leaned back against the pillows. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, holding up a silver teapot.

Smiling, Victoria shook her head. "I don't think so. Or ... maybe yes, I would. Whatever you're having." It suddenly occurred to her that she could drink tea, even hold the cup steady, as long as she was in Purulence's dream. Was she a dream within a dream? It was getting too complicated for her to try to figure out!

"I was married, but I never had ... what would you call it? Issues? Drama? Something like that. Anyway, I never had that kind of experience with Dallas, so why wouldn't you want to be interested in him? I feel I'm missing something there, especially if dreaming about him makes you happy?"

Purulence looked at Victoria and nodded, smiling. "Yes, I can see how very happy you were. You glow with it. I'm so glad of that!" She clasped Victoria's hand. Then her face fell. "But I'm also sad, because you're in this state and can't physically be with him. That's horrible."

"As for me, I had--ugly drama a while back. I was in what they call a toxic relationship, and I didn't realize how toxic it was until I was half suicidal and left. Now I've met Ignatius and have barely known him for two weeks. There's no reason in the world why I should love him. Sometimes I feel as if we have nothing in common. He's an asteroid miner; I'm an artist. So many of the things that delight me--like Halloween--he has no use for. And yet we can't stay out of each others' company. He's so down to earth--and I like that about him. He has never once pretended to be something he wasn't with me. He never plays mind games. He's decent to other people, honest and direct." Purulence blinked. "I've never articulated all of that before."

Victoria laughed, "It sounds like it's about time you did. I shouldn't presume to give you advice, but I will tell you this anyway. Life is short. Don't waste it on being afraid of what might happen. Go make what you want happen." She sipped from her cup, and could almost imagine she could taste the beverage inside it.

"Dallas and I were very happy, and we are ... were ... as opposite as it's possible to be, I think. When I ...." Vic couldn't quite say the word. It didn't feel real, even after so many months. "When the explosion happened, for a long time, I was in a void. Perhaps there's an emotional shock that lasts past death." She shook her head. "I don't really feel dead, you know? I still have emotions. I still miss my life with Dallas. Sometimes, I even feel pain, but how is that possible?

"Anyway, I'm not the point here. YOU are. So if this Ignatius fellow makes you happy, and you want to be with him, and there's nothing standing in your way, then ... be with him. For as long as you can. And be happy." In the dream state, she reached out and clasped Purulence's hand. "Your happiness is within the grasp of this small, beautiful hand. Grab it."

"But you are the point here," Purulence said. "You came to visit me for a reason, not to hear about my love life. What's going on, Victoria?
How can I help you?"

Suddenly, Victoria felt the need to go back ... somewhere. It was time. "I'm sorry. I have to go back now. Remember what I said." She removed her hand from Purulence's forehead and looked down on the young woman, thinking that so much lay before her, and hoping it would all be good. Then, rather than drifting away, she disappeared in a mist.

"Victoria?" A wave of icy cold flooded through Purulence as the ghost-woman vanished. The sense of goneness tore at her. "Victoria!" she shouted. And then she awoke, sitting bolt-upright in bed, shaking as she stared at the spot where Victoria Briggs had sat on her bed moments before.

She glanced at her bedside clock. 3:45 in the bloody morning, far too early to barge into Grandmama's bedroom and disturb her. "Remember what she said," Purulence muttered to herself. "Oh, gods..." She snatched up the sketchpad that she kept on her nightstand and wrote down as much as she could before the wisps of dream could fizzle into nothing.

 

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