10559/Shared Nightmares

Shared Nightmares
Date of Scene:	25 March 2022
Location:	A Shared Dreamscape
Synopsis:	Jon breaks Cael out of one of her nightmares - and encourages her to engage in some lucid dreaming instead. But he doesn't seem to appreciate having training wheels on his motorcycle.
Cast of Characters:	Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims

---

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael had agreed to link her dreams with Jon's for one reason - to protect and support him. The thought of her own troubled sleep had never entered her mind. Perhaps it should have, given the frequency with which nightmares plague her.
    The dream Cael falls into would be a familiar one to her conscious mind - but trapped in the reality of the dream, it doesn't even occur to her that she's endured this scene time and again. She runs from shifting, nebulous threats - sometimes its the faces of people she'd once considered friends, before she got them sent to prison. Sometimes it's the red eyes of those strange super soldiers she, Cap, Sam, and Barnes had been fighting. And of course, there's more than a few glimpses of angelic beings. Despite the seemingly fearless determination Cael shows in the real world against these threats, the oppressive atmosphere of the dream has her on the defensive, running for safety - sometimes alone, sometimes with allies.
    "Jon, hurry!" she calls, pulling at the man's right hand to hurry him along - but she's brought to an abrupt halt as Jon falters, letting out a gurgling sound from his throat, a sword protruding through to the front of his chest. "JON!" She doesn't even see what foe has struck him down. That's no longer the point as she catches him in her arm, sinking to the floor. "No, no, no- Y-you're alright. It's alright. Jon..." She presses her hands to the man's chest, trying to stop the blood as she looks up in panic, searching for help.
    Familiar faces are there. Friends. Family? But they simply watch impassively, or turn away without helping. Sara, Sam, Cap, Martin... "It's- It's going to be alright," she repeats desperately.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    At first, the dream is to Jon what many of his dreams are: he watches someone else's worst moments replay, whatever horrible thing happened to them that spurred them to give a statement to an Archivist. He's had dreams of Cael before, first watching her deal with the horror of the attack on the Botanical Gardens and then watching Michael's torture of her. The Archivist experiences the statements as if it was happening to them, but then has to watch as a third party in dreams. In those moments they are helpless to change anything, to comfort or speak out.

    It still hurts, having to silently watch other people's pain and suffering. At first, Jon would try to reach out, to stop the dream, to change something, to comfort people. But the dreams are merely his own; the statement-giver is not trapped within, re-living the statement night after night. How awful would /that/ be? No, this is a private hell for the Archivist, a sort of review of the statements, usually ones recently gained or accessed. So now, Jon doesn't bother trying to do anything, merely watches, and thanks the gods that dreams are usually the one thing that he doesn't remember perfectly on waking.

    This time, though, it slowly dawns on him that this isn't a normal statement. People aren't turning inside out, Cael isn't nailing herself to a cross. And he can /feel/ her there, see her aura, as if she's not a dream-figment but an actual person. Slowly he remembers that not only is this a dream, but that they're /sharing/ dreams now. This is /Cael's/ dream.

    "Cael?" Jon takes a step toward her, out of the mass of people who watch and turn away. "Cael, love, it's me. I'm here. You're dreaming."

Cael Becker has posed:
    he 'Jon' in Cael's arms struggles to breathe and to speak around the blood burbling up through his throat, pink foam on his lips, and oozing out of his punctured, exposed lung. There's a level of realism to it that isn't simply the imagined stuff of nightmares - Cael has been through this before. Not exactly this - but near enough, and it had left deep scars.
    Hearing Jon's voice behind her, she looks up in confusion, still cradling the dream construct to her, while she tries to hold him together with her hands, and her force of will alone. He continues gasping and struggling his hand gripping her arm, while she looks up at another copy of his face - unharmed, and gently concerned. Confusion begins to filter its way into her panicked mind. "Jon... I... but..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "This isn't real," Jon repeats, taking another step forward toward Cael. "This isn't how it happened, and besides, I'm /alive/ now. Remember?" No need to remind her that she wasn't holding him when he died; that fact is traumatic enough for her as it is.

    Instead, he focuses on a spot a little ways away, projecting an image of the two of them kissing down in Duat. His right arm is replaced by a glowing emerald construct, and he has wings, and Cael's half-covered in blood, but it /is/ what happened.

    "You brought me back. I'm alive, and I'm fine, and I'm lying in bed next to you right now."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Where once there were two Jons - now there is three and Cael, still ensnared by dream-logic, is clearly confused. "Jon..." she repeats, looking from Jon, to the projected memory - with his green, magical arm, to the 'dying' Jon in his arm - still with both of his arms intact. Her hand remains pressed to his chest, as if she could will him to stay alive - even as she looks back up to the figure standing over her. "Y-you lost your arm," is what she finally manages to say. "Michael took it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods encouragingly. "Yes, he did." For a moment, the image of Jon and Cael kissing flickers, to show Jon with his arms chained up above his head in a barren stone room, a single window looking out onto space, his back bleeding from multiple lashes. Michael stands there with a sword of orange flame in his hands, and using the sword he cuts the bindings, dropping Jon to the floor in a pool of his own blood, then flashing out to remove Jon's right arm--

    The real Jon shakes his head and dispels the image entirely, shuddering. "Sorry," he murmurs. "Sorry, that's not..."

    He drops to his knees next to Cael and reaches out to try to put a hand on her arm, to pull her away if he can. "I know you're scared, love," he says softly. "I know... I know it hurts. But I'm here. I'm /here/. I'm alive. Please, please, Cael, I'm /alive/ and I'm not going anywhere."

Cael Becker has posed:
    The image of Jon strung up, covered in lashes, causes Cael's breath to catch in her throat. She watches, transfixed, as he's cut down - and as the sword flashes out again, to remove Jon's arm permanently. "Oh God..." she murmurs.
    Without Cael focusing on them, the dream constructs of her friends, and even of the Jon in lap, falter and fade, as her attention shifts back to Jon once more. She allows him to pull her into his arms, though she's slow to wrap her arms around him.
    "This is you?" she asks quietly. "This is real?" Tears streak her cheeks as she leans into him, clearly hungry for reassurance.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "This is real," Jon assures her, wrapping his arm around her. He doesn't have the other one, here in the dream. "This is me. Gods, I'm so sorry..." He squeezes his eyes shut. "I shouldn't have... I lost my focus, for a minute. You didn't need to see that." Because watching other people's trauma is /his/ job, see?

    He strokes her hair gently. "Is this what you dream about all the time?" he murmurs. "Running away from horrible things, people dying, nobody helping?" It hasn't quite occurred to him yet that he was actually standing in for Alis.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Is this what she always dreams?
    Itisn't until //that// question is asked that she really starts to get control over her thoughts - and begins to push back the imposing sense of dread that somehow still lurked in the background. This //is// a dream. This... is what she dreams. "Pretty often, yeah," Cael admits quietly, clinging to him now. "Usually you, or Sara, these days. ...sometimes it's still Alis. I don't sleep well..."
    She takes a few more shakey breaths before she adds, "It's not the only dream, though..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner," Jon says softly. "I... this isn't exactly... new, for me. My dreams are quite often..." He sighs. "I repeat statements a lot. Including yours."

    He holds her tightly, and leans down to place a kiss on the top of her head. "I won't ask you to show me what else you dream. You can tell me if you want, you can even show me, I'll listen. But..." He hesitates for a moment, like he's trying to think of how to word something properly.

    "I'm sorry I didn't try harder not to... die," he manages finally.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lets out a gasping sob, and clings all the tighter at those words - a sharp ache in her chest of remembered pain, and panic, and helplessness.
    It's possible the helplessness was the worst part of it. Cael was not alone in feeling that way.
    "But you're alive now. You're okay. I- I found you. You came back - like you promised." He came back. That wasn't a dream - right?
    She lets out a quiet laugh as she adds, "You'll probably see the other dreams... whether I show you or not. Right?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Probably," Jon admits with a wry smile, "unless I teach you how to avoid this altogether. We've been working on that, I don't know if you remember, but... it can be /hard/ to dream yourself into the right place at first. Usually you start in another dream and remember you're asleep and /then/ change your location."

    He rubs a circle on Cael's back, gently, and sighs. "We could go somewhere else if you want. The Archive, maybe. Or we can get seeing your dreams over with, if you'd rather. It's up to you." A pause. "I... know someone who could give you about a month without nightmares. She helped me have a chance to... it's the only reason I managed to learn how to dream lucidly. I don't typically sleep well."

Cael Becker has posed:
    A month without nightmares? That sounded like a blissful luxury. "W-who can do that?" she asks, freeing one of her hands from around Jon, so she can wipe at her eyes. She turns her head then, peering up at Jon's face, so near to her own. "What would she have to do?" He trusted her, though? If he'd allowed her to do- whatever it is she does?
    "...if I could learn how to stop these stupid dreams. I, uhh... I don't really like sleeping." But she knows it's necessary, so she forces herself to sleep.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "She's an Avatar of the Goddess Bast. I met her at the Midnight Mission, she's an associate of Mr. Knight's. I... don't know precisely /how/ she does it, and it's Bast that did it really. You could ask her what the process is. Or I could just try to help you learn more, so long as we're linked."

    Jon sighs, frowning down at her. "For a while there I was barely sleeping either. As... terrible as the last couple of months have been, October and November of last year was /worse/ in a lot of ways, because I... I felt so alone, so lost. At least I have something of a handle on all of this... and where Martin hasn't been with me, you have."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Well. Let's, uhh... Let's start with this, yeah?" Cael suggests. "While we have the chance. You can teach me what you've learned and- and maybe that'll be enough." With her head resting on Jon's shoulder she murmurs quietly, "And maybe I won't have to dream about anyone else dying. Or being trapped. Or... bugs." Yes, bugs.
    "I actually dream about Michael a lot less than you'd think." Or at least - not about him //directly//.
    She's silent a moment before she adds, "I wish I'd been there for you in the fall. But I'm glad I was able to help in all this mess."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I mean, you were, in a way. At least, once I joined SHIELD and we started training... you inspired me to want to do better, be better, try harder. To get better sleep so I could run faster and beat you at /one/ thing at least." Jon grins; outpacing her when they run /is/ one of the few things he's managed to beat her at. Even if having long legs is technically cheating.

    "I dream about Michael a lot," he admits, sobering. "What he did to you, what he did to me. The battles. I... I dream about failing you... a lot. Coming too late, or... or..."

    A brief image conjures, of Jon pinned to a wall by a railroad spike, Cael with her forehead pressed to his and her arm wrapped around him, hand pressed to his cheek. Instead of Michael-in-Chas being forced into the circle and freeing her from its influence, something hits her in the back. It's hard to say what; one of the others, trying to save Jon? Michael, killing her for not moving fast enough? Jon himself, stabbing her to save her from the mind control? Whatever it is, it makes Cael cough up blood all over him and then slump against him, dead.

    Jon clenches his jaw and tries to force the image away. "Sorry," he murmurs. "Sorry. Gods, we're both a mess, huh?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    The guilt that flashes over Cael's features at that image of Jon, pinned to the wall like a butterfly pinned to a board. She hadn't been herself. That wasn't //her// choice, she tries to remind herself. Even under Michael's influence - she'd tried to simply get him out of the way - not to injure him too badly. Right? At the image of her getting killed, she looks away and lets out a sigh. "Oh, Jon...
    "We are," she agrees. "We're a mess. But- that's not how it happened. You came in time. You saved me. ...and you forgave me."
    After another sigh she adds, "I don't really dream about Michael but- I mean, that's why I dream about being trapped. That- the helplessness of being in that room, knowing what he was going to do, and unable to get away, it- It's hard to deal with. Still."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "There was nothing to forgive, love," Jon says softly. "It wasn't you. Even there in that moment, I knew it wasn't you. Why do you think I didn't attack you? I mean, I won't say I /let/ you back me into a corner, you're better than I am and probably always will be, but I didn't want to risk hurting you. All I could think was that I wanted you back."

    He sighs. "I think I loved you back then. I think I had a crush on you ever since I mentioned the business with seeing the monster when I was eight and you said 'that'll fuck a person up.' I think I probably /loved/ you that first day of training when you first tried the Falcon wings. The look of sheer /joy/ on your face..."

    He sighs. "And that was /before/ we started therapy. I should lose my license." Way to ruin the moment there, Sims.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "No fucking way," Cael counters. "You're too good at what you do. And why should you lose it over something you didn't realize? I know you're stepping back from it, but-" There was a part of her that wished he wasn't. He'd helped her. He could help others. She lets out a heavy sigh, without moving from resting against him.
    "We're both fucking idiots, really. God, when I finally figured it out... I was terrified. I was so sure you wouldn't feel the same, and that you'd- that I'd lose my therapist, and my friend. It was scary."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I mean, my entire thought process was 'I care about Cael. I want to help Cael. Therefore, I cannot be Cael's /friend/, because then I can't help her.'" Jon rolls his eyes. "Admittedly... I wasn't sure you'd even want to be my friend, let alone... anything else. Not that I /realized/ 'anything else.' I fell for Martin at first sight, too, and didn't realize for /months/."

    He grins wryly down at Cael for a moment. "Can I get that in writing to give to my professional associations? 'Dr. Sims is a good psychiatrist.' Most of my colleagues would probably disagree. Mostly because they think that accepting that just because someone's yelling about demons doesn't mean they're hallucinating is malpractice."

    He sighs. "Here, let's... you're distracted, everything's gone. Try... try coming up with a /good/ dream. If you /could/ dream about good things, what would they be? Envision it in your mind and... will it into being, here."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Are you asking for an official letter of recommendation, Dr. Sims?" Cael counters teasingly - a smile breaking her features. Most of the tension has long since eased out of her form, though she hasn't moved from the comforting proximity of Jon's presence. The suggestion that she think of a //good// dream, however, actually gives her pause.
    Her memory is a minefield of bad memories and painful moments to such a degree that she starts to tense up again - before she finally lands on an idea.
    It's probably no real surprise when what starts to appear around them... is a New York City street, late at night, in a back alley... with a group of individuals beginning to gather - many of them with some very nice, souped up motorcycles.
    "I miss being able to do this," she says simply - her own clothes changing from SHIELD battle armor, into her leather jacket, with leather pants and a sturdy helmet.
    "Think you can beat me in a race?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Absolutely not," Jon says with a grin, though after a moment's thought he outfits himself in leather as well. "/Possibly/ if I was flying, but driving? Not a chance. I'm willing to try, however, whichever way you want."

    A pause, and then, "I still think it's a good idea for you to race again, out in the real world. Doesn't have to be street racing. But I see how much you love this. You not racing seems like me not... touching a book ever again." And how weird would /that/ be?

Cael Becker has posed:
    "As much as I'd love to do street racing again - I can't. Not with my face all over the news like it's been, on and off." With the Avengers. With the invasion. "My cover's too blown. The FBI would never let me go back. And doing it illegally, and without and back-up..." Cael shakes her head. "If I survived being that dumb, I'd torpedo my career. So it'll have to be at a track, or on closed streets. But... yeah. I wanna race again. Just can't risk it until all of this settled - and I know I won't crash if you unexpectedly take a nap."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon snorts. "Well, we're napping now. So what about it, Becker? You want a guaranteed win just to get me on a bike, or you want a /challenge/ and I can fly?"

    A pause, and then he adds, "...I won't try flying /on/ the bike. I know that'd just remind you of your /very/ favorite person."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Flying is SO not the point of this, Jon," Cael counters - her hands on her hips as she gives him a determined look. "If you can't try doing stupid things on a bike here - when can you?" she points out levelly.
    "Besides. I'll be teaching all this stuff to Agnes - so you better know at least something about it," she remarks with a teasing light in her eyes. "So try to keep up."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's eyes widen. "Y-you're... I mean... well... you probably do... I mean I had thought Martin, but... then again she'd probably enjoy riding bikes and..." Way to fluster the guy, Cael. Remind him that his daughter will be old enough to learn how to drive soon.

    Look, it's a terrifying prospect for any parent, letting their baby control a ton of metal, let alone a /bike/.

    He frowns at her and huffs. "/Fine/. But you had better not go easy on me." A pause, and then, sheepishly, "I... don't know enough about them to imagine one. It'd probably look ridiculous if I tried."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm going to keep her on a closed track, Jon," Cael replies in a dry voice - amused by the flustered response she earned. Because hell if she's waiting until the girl's fifteen or sixteen to start giving her pointers.
    And then he makes a remark he absolutely shouldn't have. Cael's red BMW S1000 RR is already there - sleek, and fast looking. A formidable piece of machine. After a moment's thought, a second one appears - blue, teal and gold, of course. ...and sporting what seems to be a pair of 'training wheels' off to the sides. She gives Jon an absolutely shit-eating grin before she remarks, "That beast can go about 190 miles per hour. Just for the record."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon /glares/ at Cael. "I don't need /training wheels/, Becker," he snaps. "I just haven't yet had the luxury of time to learn everything I possibly can about your favorite hobby, which I /will/ do when I get a chance." Because she likes bikes, and cars, and so he's going to learn, the same way he suffered through poetry he /detested/ just to try to understand Martin's love of the artform.

    He very deliberately /removes/ the training wheels and then gets on the bike. He does seem to know what to do, mostly, although he looks a little nervous. "It's a dream," he murmurs to himself. "If you crash you won't get hurt."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael just laughs. "Oh, com'on, Jon... if you could see the look on your face!" she calls with a laugh, going over to him to wrap him into a hug as he struggles with the 'training wheels.'
    It isn't much of a struggle. She 'imagined' them to snap right off quite easily. "You need any pointers?" she asks, fully prepared to run him through the basics - and despite her prank of a moment before, there seems to be no judgement behind the question. "I mean - this is a dream, I imagine you could do just fine without them. But if you're planning on trying anything like this in reality, as well..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Please do," Jon says, continuing to glare at her, although it's becoming more of a thing he's putting on specifically because it amuses Cael. "I'd rather be impressive and cool on the bike than look ridiculous, even if I can't actually get /hurt/ in the dream."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael nods, her expression going serious as she launches into a long series of pointers. She tries to keep it to the important ones - but she has a lot of knowledge to imparts.
    At the end, she sums it all up again - short and succinctly, counting off what she considers to be the five moment important tips, ending with, "And always remember to look where you want the bike to go. Especially in a curve. Especially if you're worried you're losing control. Look where you want to go, and you'll be surprised how often that gets you there. Yeah?" She gives Jon a clap on the shoulder - then heads back to her own bike while calling over her shoulder, "Oh, and wear a helmet!"
    Even with it being a dream, she jams her helmet on - mounting her bike, and kicking up the crutch - just as the other racers also get onto their bikes.
    Cael doesn't hold back, and in this brief moments during the race when she glances back towards Jon - there's sheer joy and excitement on her features.
    This is Cael in her element. And she's //good// at it.