Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
steelartisan) wrote2007-03-26 12:25 am
steelartisan) wrote2007-03-26 12:25 am
A Dream
They are sitting on his (their) bed in the Mansion. An easel is under the big, picture window. Outside, it is a beautiful day, sunny and brisk. The few students left are playing a game of soccer on the lawn under the feet of the Sentinels.
It's a dream. He knows it. But it's still.
"Let me. Let me come for you. I will. You came for me, Katya."
"Yeah, but I'm in the elite club of not technically dying yet," she grins. "With the people we hang out with, that's pretty damned near being immortal. I can take those risks."
"Please. Please. I am not..." He ducks his head and runs both his hands through his hair. "I will, if you ask me to. I will survive you. I made you survive me. But, please, Katya."
"Petey?" It's gentle, as she takes his face in her hands and pulls him down to kiss his forehead. "Survive. And wake up."
It's a dream. He knows it. But it's still.
"Let me. Let me come for you. I will. You came for me, Katya."
"Yeah, but I'm in the elite club of not technically dying yet," she grins. "With the people we hang out with, that's pretty damned near being immortal. I can take those risks."
"Please. Please. I am not..." He ducks his head and runs both his hands through his hair. "I will, if you ask me to. I will survive you. I made you survive me. But, please, Katya."
"Petey?" It's gentle, as she takes his face in her hands and pulls him down to kiss his forehead. "Survive. And wake up."