# Anon - Memories Of A Dream

Title: Anon - Memories Of A Dream
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Amber
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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The bed has never felt the same, since she passed. I still sleep on the same side of the bed, knowing that it would be wrong to do anything else. Shuffling under the covers, I reach over to turn off the lamp, glancing down at the picture sitting there: A picture of myself and Fang, when we first found out we were expecting. I make sure to look at that picture every night before I go to sleep, careful to look nowhere else on that wretched nightstand. Over the past few days, it has become a talisman of sorts, protecting me from what lay within the drawer below.
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“I miss you so much, babe.”
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“Pfft, dweeb, I’m right here.”
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I freeze, my hand on the knob of the lamp. Please no, not this, not again.
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“No, Fang, you’re not. You…died, giving birth to Lucy.”
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“Hmm, that doesn’t sound like something I would do. You okay, Anon?” Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I can feel a brush of feathers across my check, feel her familiar wings wrapping me into another hug. “Come on, babe, just roll over to me. It’ll be okay…”
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“Please, Fang, don’t do this…” I don’t dare open my eyes, afraid of what I might see. I used to indulge these thoughts at first, when they started a few weeks ago. But I know better now.
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“Do what, dweeb, hug you? Can’t a wife give her loyal, loving husband a hug after a long day?” The hug gets tighter, and I can feel her body pressing into my back. “Here, let me at least rub your shoulders, get some of that tension out.” Her hands knead into my shoulders, slowly working out the knots and…
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“No! This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t…” My voice is a whimper now, and I instinctively curl up, laying there like a scared child.
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“What, what isn’t real, Anon? That your wife isn’t still here?” Her voice lowers, whispering right into my ear. “You know how we can be together again, Anon, how it can all be real again.” Her weight shifts against my back, and I can feel the feathers on her arm brush my neck as she reaches over me. The sound of a drawer opening causes me to whimper like a wounded animal.
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“Why are you doing this?” My voice is a whisper now, so low that even I couldn’t hear them.
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“Because, Anon, this is how we can be together. All three of us, together…”
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“NO!” My scream echoes down the hall as my eyes snap open. I’m already half out of bed before Lucy’s cries begin, rushing to comfort the light of my life.
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Behind me, the nightstand drawer lies open, a silver revolver glittering in the light.