Date: Thu, 2 Sep 2010 10:11:37 -0600
From: Katya_Dee <concertoind@gmail.com>
Subject: The Dreamtrap - chapter 14

This is a story of fiction, all resemblances (dead or alive) are eerily
coincidental. Everything in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains
descriptive sexual scenes between males, if you are not supposed to read it
then don't. Feel free to e-mail me.

****

 - XIV -



*On the other side of the mirror.*


            Henry hasn't said a single word while they were in the air. He
stared out of the little round window, watching fat white clouds swim lazily
pass the plane, letting the blue sky to peek through random rips in the
fluffy fabric. Julian was sitting in the back of the plane, Raven's head in
his lap, and he kept muttering something under his breath almost nonstop,
running his fingers through Raven's hair.

   When they finally landed, it was 5:30 in the morning, and Henry shivered
involuntarily in the chilly morning breeze when they were outside. There was
a car waiting for them not too far from the plane, and Julian sharply
gestured for the artist to get into the front seat while he carefully got
Raven into the back, getting next to him. He told the driver the directions,
and the man nodded without saying anything and started driving.

   "Where are we going?" Henry asked finally, throwing a gloomy glance at
the blond over his shoulder.

   Julian looked at him briefly and returned his full-undivided attention to
the unconscious brunet in his lap.

   "Somewhere I will get some answers," was all Salamander said in a tight
voice.

   Henry sighed and looked out of the window, wondering how he was supposed
to get back home – they were almost half-way across the entire damn world,
he had no money on him, and somehow, he doubted that Salamander would buy
him a plane ticket after the entire situation was resolved. "He will
probably just kill you after he doesn't need you anymore," his inner voice
said indifferently, and Henry closed his eyes. Yeah, there was that
possibility as well.

   After twenty minutes or so, the car came to a smooth stop, and the driver
looked into rearview mirror, meeting Julian's eyes.

   "We are here," he said.

   "I know," the blond said darkly, looking at the house they stopped next
to with narrowed eyes. He glanced at the driver. "I will call you when I
need you," he said, and the driver nodded.

   "Yes, master Salamander," he said, watching Julian getting out of the car
with Raven in his arms.

   Henry got out as well. He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched
the car drive away. Then he sighed and followed the blond up the rocky steps
leading to the house. He didn't ask him any more questions; he figured that
he'd know what this place was sooner or later.

   Julian rang the bell, pushing the button several times, making the sound
come out short and irritated. Henry wondered if whoever lived here was even
awake yet, when he heard quick footsteps behind the closed door. The door
swung open without any hesitation, as if whoever opened it could care less
who was about to get into their house. Henry stared at the tall,
brown-haired man with very tired dark eyes. Those eyes widened somewhat when
he saw Julian, whose expression was even darker than it was ten minutes ago.
Then the man looked at Raven, and his eyes immediately narrowed. He glanced
at Henry briefly, and looked at the unconscious brunet once again.

   "Where is he?" Salamander asked in a quiet, hateful voice. "I know that
he is invading his dreams even now...!"

   Henry had no idea what the blond was talking about, but it seemed that
the brown-haired man understood him immediately.

   "Where is he?" Julian repeated. "Speak the truth or I swear to God..."

   "Oh, save it," the man said in a tired, annoyed voice, and Henry blinked
at that.

   He looked at Julian, wondering what his reaction would be. The blond
narrowed his eyes and locked his jaw tightly. The owner of the house sighed
and stepped aside, making a quick, impatient gesture, which said, `Get in
already!'

   Julian slowly walked inside with puzzled Henry in tow, and walked to the
big couch that sat next to the wall. He carefully laid Raven onto the couch
and straightened up.

   "Where..." he started saying when the other man interrupted him with
another tired gesture. This one clearly said, `Follow me.'

   Julian gritted his teeth and did just that, following the brown-haired
man deeper into the house. Henry noted that shoulders of both of them were
identically tight and rigid. He went after both men, and several minutes
later, the owner of the house pushed open a door leading into the big
bedroom. Julian stormed in there, clearly about to start spitting out
barking questions, when he came closer to the bed and stopped dead in his
tracks. The brown-haired man leaned onto the wall with one shoulder and
folded his arms in his chest.

   Henry carefully walked around the frozen blond and looked at the bed.
Then he blinked rapidly. There was a man lying on the bed, and he seemed to
be in a state of deep sleep. Henry frowned when he realized that the
sleeping man's expression was eerily similar to the one of Salamander's
mate. The man looked vaguely familiar.

   Julian slowly shifted his blink-free gaze to the tall man next to the
wall. The man nodded.

   "He's been this way since last Saturday morning," he said, and the blond
finally blinked. "Judging by your look," the man continued slowly. "That was
when it hit Raven, whatever it was..."

  "Yes," Julian said quietly and looked at the sleeping man once again.
"Bloody hell..." he muttered. "They are trapped in there together...?"

   Henry looked at the man more intently, and then he frowned, recognizing
him finally.

   "That's the guy in the painting...!" he said incredulously, and the man
next to the wall blinked at that and straightened up.

   "What painting?" he asked sharply.

   "This painting," Julian said dryly, pulling out the loosely rolled canvas
from underneath his jacket.

   The man quickly walked to the window and jerked the curtains apart,
letting the sunlight burst into the bedroom. Julian put the painting onto
the bed next to the sleeping man and unrolled it somewhat impatiently. The
owner of the house towered over the canvas, tight frown distorting his
forehead. Then he frowned even deeper and leaned closer.

   "Holy hell..." he muttered. "He *is *in the painting...!"

   Julian blinked at that, remembering that he couldn't see the man without
a magnifying glass several hours ago, and leaned closer as well. Then he
swore through his clenched teeth.

   "Goddammit, it changed again...!" he muttered, and Henry tentatively
stepped closer.

   Salamander was right – the painting indeed changed again. Several hours
ago, Henry found this mysterious man standing next to Raven in the upper
left corner of the blasted painting, and he had to practically bury his nose
in dry colors to be able to see him even with a magnifying glass. Now,
however, both of them – Julian's mate and this strange man – were standing
next to the third or forth mirror from the bottom, and they were staring at
something rather intently. Henry blinked when he realized that the red
spots, which he assumed were eyes, relocated as well – now they were behind
both men, and they seemed to be closer. Henry shivered involuntarily. He
wouldn't want something like whatever it was that had such demonic-looking
eyes to get anywhere near him.

   "What do you mean, it changed again?" the owner of the house demanded
sharply, and Julian straightened up with a heavy sigh.

   "Make some coffee, master Rayhe," he said in the dark voice. "It is
rather a long story."



****



   Forty-five or so minutes later, Julian finally finished explaining
everything, and Rayhe, who never interrupted the blond for the entire time
that he was talking, frowned very thoughtfully and tapped his fingers on the
tabletop, his eyes fixed on his coffee mug.

   "If they are still in there," he said finally. "That means they missed
the first exit."

   "Yes," Julian agreed tightly.

   "Or there *is *no exit," Rayhe muttered, and Julian narrowed his eyes at
that. "This is not a real labyrinth," Rayhe said darkly. "It's in the
dreamland; how do we know if the same rules apply to it?"

   "There was an exit," Julian nodded. "It reflected in one of the mirrors.
It's not there now, but there was an exit," he nodded again.

   "Somewhat good news," Rayhe muttered gloomily. "Bloody hell...!" He got
up and pushed his chair aside. "How did it even happen? How in the world was
he able to recognize Desmond?"

   "I don't know," Julian answered tightly.

   Rayhe paced around the kitchen for several minutes, and then he stopped
and took a deep breath.

   "All right," he said quietly. "It doesn't matter how it is possible... We
have to get them out and the sooner the better."

   He looked at silent Henry, who sat on one of the chairs, his expression
gloomy.

   "You painted it," Rayhe said, and Henry looked at him.

   "I didn't paint it this way," he said dully. "I don't know how it's doing
that; I don't know how it keeps changing itself, but I did not paint it this
way...!"

   "Doesn't matter," Rayhe shook his head impatiently. "You are the
creator...! What is your name, by the way?" he squinted his eyes slightly.

   Henry blinked, realizing that he never told this man his name, and
Salamander didn't bother introducing them, of course.

   "Henry," the artist muttered, and Rayhe nodded slightly.

   "I am Gabriel," he said. "Anyway, back to the painting... You are the
creator, and even though it started changing on its own, you still should be
able to control it."

   "Control it...?" Henry repeated with confusion, and Gabriel nodded again.

   "Yes," he walked closer to the table and pressed his palms into the
tabletop. "If you add something else to it, the painting should accept it,
because it's your creation to begin with... You see where I am going?" he
glanced at suddenly tensed up Julian.

   "I think so," the blond muttered. "He can create an exit..."

   "Exactly...!" Gabriel nodded energetically. "And if they miss it again
and it vanishes..." He shrugged. "He'll just make another one."

   Julian threw a quick glance at the clock; it read 7:15.

   "He will need the same paint as he used before," he said with a small,
thoughtful frown. "What time do the stores open?"

   "Nine-thirty," Gabriel sighed and went back to the coffeemaker.

   "I am going to call my driver," Julian said and reached for his phone.

   Gabriel impatiently shook his head.

   "I'll take him," he said and threw away the used coffee filter. "If we
don't find the paint that he needs in the first store," he started
explaining when he noticed Salamander's narrowed eyes. "I will take him to a
different one; I know all of them around here," he poured some water into
the opening in the back of the coffeemaker. "While your driver would waste
time, trying to figure out which store sells art supplies... Don't worry,"
he threw a quick glance at Henry. "I won't let him to get away; he is too
important."

   Julian nodded somewhat reluctantly and left his phone alone. Gabriel
pushed the `Start' button on the coffeemaker, looked at the gadget
thoughtfully for a minute or so, sighed, and went back to his chair.

   "When did this ability start to develop in him?" Julian asked after
several minutes of silence.

   "Three months ago," Gabriel looked into his empty by now coffee mug. "A
couple of weeks after you left," he glanced at the blond. "This one turned
out to be a hell of a lot harder to control than telepathy..."

   Henry frowned at that. "Telepathy?" he thought warily. "Holy hell, that
guy has more than one ability?" He bit his lip when suddenly, he felt a
poisonous stab of jealousy. Some people have no abilities whatsoever like
Henry himself, and some end up with more than they need. There is no such
thing as fairness when it comes to this world, he thought gloomily.

   "In fact," Gabriel continued meanwhile. "He is still not quite sure how
to control it. The problem with this particular ability is that it's so
bloody rare that there is hardly any useful information on it... Even Tess
had no idea about how to avoid being sucked into some random dreams..."

   "Tess DeCrusse?" Julian looked at him.

   "Yes," Gabriel sighed, and the blond nodded without asking anything else.
"He tried simply ignoring the calls, tried staying put, but..." Rayhe
shrugged. "It wouldn't let him; it would drag him in anyway..."

   "Would it happen every time he was asleep?" Salamander pushed his empty
mug away slightly just so he could lean on the tabletop with his elbow.

   "Not every time," Gabriel looked at the coffeemaker, which stopped
puffing. He got up and walked towards the counter. "However, it would happen
quite often. The weird part..." He paused and refilled all three mugs,
getting a small `Thank you' nod from Henry. "...was that he would never feel
tired after he woke up," he continued after a minute and put the carafe back
where it belonged. "Sometimes, he would be stuck in someone's dream for the
entire night, but when he woke up, he'd be fine..."

   "Because his body was getting rest it needed," Julian said, reaching for
the creamer.

   "I guess..." Gabriel agreed with a small shrug. "Then, a couple of weeks
ago, he told me that he dreamt of Raven... Something about some cat," he
frowned.

   "Yes," Julian said darkly. "I know about that..."

   "What was the deal with the cat, by the way?" Rayhe looked at the blond,
who twisted his mouth into a hard line.

   "Doesn't matter," he answered somewhat dryly. "Go on."

   Gabriel's lips twitched with a shadow of annoyance, but he didn't press
the matter any further.

   "He hasn't dreamt of him until some time later," he continued and reached
for the pack of cigarettes. "In fact, he hasn't dreamt of him until
probably..."

   "Thursday night," Julian pulled out one cigarette out of the pack that
Gabriel put on the table.

   "Yes," Gabriel sighed and drank more coffee. "Thursday night."

   They sat in silence, concentrating on their coffee mugs and cigarettes,
and Gabriel's mind was wondering. He started thinking about three months
ago, when this obscure ability started rapidly developing itself in Desmond,
making both of them grit their teeth in frustration quite often in the
beginning.



 ****

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