It was a restless sleep. The warning stomach ache had been easing its way into his gut the past day and he tried desperately to ignore it. They’d all been through so much already... but she was still out there, coming up with plans for ways on getting her hands on them.

Every now and then, he had dreams... nightmares, actually. He didn’t tell anyone what they were actually about, except for that one nightmare that had been shared by all of them.

It was never the same dream, but they ended the same: all of the others had been caught in some way, leaving him to watch them disappear. He never saw them die, they simply vanished, until he was alone. Then she would laugh. He’d cower, one of his worst fears beating him farther down than losing his friends and family already had.

The combination always took its toll and he woke up, sweating. And it had just happened again.

Micky tried to calm his breathing as he usually did after waking from the nightmare. Then he held it as Lauren rolled over, now facing away from him. He let out a slow breath, then slid out of the bed.

He needed some air. First, he needed something more to wear than just his boxers. He snagged a pair of carpenters’ shorts he’d flung on the chair by the door and stepped into them as he left the room.

Micky detoured past the nursery and poked his head in. He listened to make sure the twins were asleep and wouldn’t cause Lauren any problems while he was out. Hearing all was quiet, he made his way downstairs and slipped out the back door.

Actually, it didn’t matter if he was quiet or not. Lauren was well aware of the fact that he had nightmares, but not what they were about, and that he had to "get some air" when he had them. When he told her he couldn’t say what the nightmares were of, she sighed and dropped it. Micky was thankful for that as he certainly did not want to relive those nightmares anymore than he did.

Micky gave the swingset and the wooden "fortress," as he called it, a glance, then shook his head. Half of the time, he’d end up on the swings for an hour, pumping back and forth until he was ready to drop and dark blue light himself back inside. A couple times, he’d gone to the top of the "fortress" and laid down there. Lauren had found him there asleep twice.

The rest of the time, he’d take the now worn path down to the beach where he’d take up a seat. But this nightmare had been a particularly bad one. The strange thing was that it hadn’t concentrated on one thing that had happened to them before, but rather was a mesh of several different incidents. It unnerved Micky and all he knew was that he really needed to clear his head.

Micky reached the beach finally and walked right out to the very edge of the shore, then took two more steps, his feet submerged in the water. He stared out into the ocean. The water was calm... an eerie sort of calm. He looked up at the cloud covered sky and knew that it was going to rain soon. He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to have much time to walk and think before it began raining.

He began to walk again, his feet still in the water. He kept his hands behind his back, fingers threaded. And he frowned as the warning stomach ache came up again... only to be outdone by his stomach growling. A slight smirk crossed his lips, but he kept walking.

Micky wondered if anyone else was feeling the warning... or if it’d been brought on in relation to the nightmare. He was lost deep in thought as he continued to walk, unnoticing of the light raindrops beginning to fall.

He did finally realize how far he’d gone when he heard a voice...

"Hey, Mick?"

Micky looked up and saw Davy coming towards him. He glanced over and saw the beach house. His eyes widened.

Davy came up next to him and fell in step. "Don’t tell me..."

Micky nodded. By this point, everyone knew of his nightmares, just not what they were about. "Yeah. Really bad one, too."

"Guess so. You don’t usually end up this far down the beach," Davy commented, trying to lighten the mood. Micky just shrugged lightly. Davy stopped him. "Mick, you’ve got the stomach ache."

He paused a moment, reading the look in the shorter man’s eyes. "You, too?" And Davy nodded. Micky ran a hand through his unruly curls. "And this one’s almost as bad as when she got me..." He trailed off, not wanting to think about what’d happened more than a year ago.

"What was the nightmare about?" Davy tried. "You tell us you have them, but never what they’re about."

Micky looked off over the water and shrugged again. "It’s bad enough having the dream. I can’t handle going over them..."

"Don’t you think it’d help you feel better if you talked about them?" Davy pointed out.

"Lauren’s told me the same thing. I’ve gotten better about talking about some of what’s bothering me, but the nightmares... they’re just too awful." Micky paused, sighing. "I just need fresh air and a chance to think... or not think, as it usually goes."

Davy gave him a dubious look, but let it go. He turned his gaze to the sky, holding out a hand. "Sprinkling already. Looks like the sky’s getting ready to open up."

"Oh, yeah," Micky said, now holding a hand out. He hadn’t noticed the sprinkles until Davy mentioned it.

"Mate, you oughtta head back before you get caught in the storm," Davy suggested.

Micky nodded. "Yeah." He turned to head back the way he came.

Davy stopped and turned to face Micky’s retreating form. "Just don’t sleep in the fort. Might drown up there!" He grinned.

Micky turned, stuck his tongue out, and made a ball of light appear. Davy turned and started running for the stairs. Micky pitched the light ball at Davy. The ball went over Davy’s head and exploded quietly in front of him, causing a mini fireworks display... but it was enough to make Davy jump and start threatening revenge on the drummer.

Micky allowed himself a small grin as he started back to the house.

~End~