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Scene 1: Cellar of Tom's childhood home. Sloan has just rescued Tom and has just seen the tattoo on his back. Tom's mother has disappeared, Ray is outside nursing a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and the 1.6er Sloan ran down with her car is lying dead by a tree. Pulsating pain ravaged his senses as he stood leaning against the cellar wall. Spasms rippled through his muscles as throbbing pain pounded his head like relentless waves crashing against the ocean shore. He felt nauseous. His vision was blurring but he fought to remain conscious as he listened to Sloan calling for an ambulance on her cellular phone. She had come for him. She found him. She had saved his life at the risk of her own. "Wait here, Tom," Sloan said helping him sit down on the floor. "Wait for me. I have to check on Ray." In a flash Sloan ran up the stairs and was out of sight, but within minutes she returned with the detective. Tom noticed that he was injured - he was holding Sloan's sweater against his left shoulder - and blood stained his hands. "Is he all right?" he heard Ray ask. Tom was losing consciousness and his efforts to stay coherent were becoming increasingly futile. Voices were sounding distant. He strained his eyes to see clearly, but his surroundings appeared to him only as silhouettes, like images on undeveloped film negatives. But he knew that Sloan was there - next to him - her hands on his neck...feeling his pulse...and Ray...bleeding at the shoulder.... "His pulse is strong, but they beat him pretty bad," he heard Sloan say. "He was tied up when I found him." Her voice was trembling. "I think they were going to kill him..." He sensed that she was fighting back tears. "Sloan," Tom whispered. It took all his strength to utter her name. Despite all that he wanted to tell her ... his tattoo ... his mother... he could speak no more. Sloan stood up suddenly and walked across the room. Tom tried to reach for her arm but he couldn't move. His muscles continued to spasm and he had no control over them - he had no control at all. "Don't go," he tried to say, but he could only think the words in his mind. His mouth was dry and he was so very weak. "Sloan," he managed to say - but his voice was barely audible. She was at his side again, gently slipping his shirt over his battered body. As she did so Tom flashed on the moment when Eric had restrained him, drugged as Tom was, while his mother removed his shirt and then threw it across the cellar - just before they tied him up to torture him. His own mother..... "It's okay, Tom," Sloan said...or did he only think she spoke something? Everything was fading - room was spinning - nausea rising in his stomach. "We'll get you out of here," she continued. "The ambulance is coming...." "No...." he gasped. He heard sirens .... Sloan was holding him .... Ray sitting next to him, bleeding .... then everything went black. 
By the time the paramedics and the police had arrived both Sloan and Ray were sitting out by Sloan's car. They had left Tom in the cellar, unconscious and hidden. It was better this way, they had decided. The authorities would undoubtedly ask some very difficult questions once they discovered Eric's lifeless body lying where Sloan had run him down - and Ray was already in a heap of trouble - not because of the gunshot wound to the shoulder - it was only a flesh wound - but because his actions did not adhere to police protocol. He was acting without orders, without permission - and Ray feared that his working relationship with Dr. Parker would ultimately cost him his badge. But he wasn't sure if it really mattered much. Their testimony to the police stated that Dr. Parker was meeting a member of the new species who allegedly had critical information to give her. She had requested that detective Petersen accompany her since she wasn't sure if she could trust this new contact who claimed he was a "friend." Her suspicions were confirmed when he tried to kill her, she explained to the officer taking her testimony, and detective Petersen was shot trying to protect her. That was the story they told the police, and credible or not, they were going to stick to it. Ray left with the ambulance just as Ed drove up in his van. Sloan had called him while Ray was being questioned by his colleagues. She knew that she would need help getting Tom to her car once all the authorities had left. "Are you okay, Sloan?" Ed asked worriedly as he hugged her. "What the hell happened here?" "I'll tell you later," she said. "Right now, just follow my lead and stop asking so many questions. I've answered enough questions tonight." She was anxious to get back to Tom. He had been beaten within inches of his life - if she hadn't arrived when she did - if she had remained in the lab - Tom would've been killed! And all because he had helped her...... Sloan couldn't bear the thought of Tom alone and hurting in that cellar. She hoped and prayed that he wouldn't wake up to discover that she had left him in that horrible place. "Where's Tom?" Ed asked ignoring her request not to be questioned. "I thought you were...." "Shut up, Ed," Sloan interjected. "I'll explain everything as soon as the police leave." She walked towards her car dragging Ed with her. She pretended to be preparing to leave. "Can you get home all right, Dr. Parker?" one of the remaining officers on the scene asked. "Yes, I'll be fine," Sloan responded. "Thank you. Dr. Tate can see me home." She glanced at Ed. Her expression relayed to Ed that she expected him to remain silent - or else. So he did. "Okay, ma’am," the officer said. "We're through here. We may have more questions for you and Detective Petersen once the autopsy of that Eric fella is completed. We'll contact you if we do." "No problem," Sloan said calmly. "Thank you for all your help." She and Ed watched as the last of the police cars drove away, and as they, too, feigned departure. As soon as the police were out of sight, Sloan jumped out of her car and started running towards the obscure entrance to the cellar. "Wait a minute," Ed yelled after her. "Where are you going?" "To get Tom," Sloan replied. But she was already running down the stairs - with Ed not too far behind her.
Tom was semi-conscious on the floor, but the sound of Sloan's voice repeating his name helped to bring him back completely to his senses. "Tom?" Sloan whispered as she stroked the side of his face. "Tom? It's Sloan. Ed and I are going to take you to my apartment where it's safe." "Sloan..." Tom said as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. "Where...what..." He touched her hand that was stroking the side of his face. Then he remembered. He remembered everything. His body writhed in pain. "We can't stay here," he said. His voice was a little stronger now. "It's not safe...they may come back." "I know," Sloan replied. "Can you stand? Ed and I will help you to my car." She grabbed Tom's arm while Ed took hold of the other. Painfully Tom struggled to his feet, resting his weight on Sloan, and then on Ed. They were standing at his side, supporting him as he endeavored to maintain his balance. He at first didn't believe he could make it up all those steps. He was still nauseous and dizzy, and each movement he made shot pain throughout his body. Fully conscious, he moaned in agony as they made their way up the staircase and into Sloan's car. Tom noticed, as Sloan buckled him into the passenger seat, that she had tears in her eyes. He sensed her distress, her concern. It moved him. It confused him. "Oh, Tom..." she said breaking into sobs like she had when she had first found him in the cellar. She held both his hands. "I was so scared..." "It's all right," he gasped. He had not yet recovered from the hike back to the car. The exertion proved to be too much for his beaten down condition. "I'm okay..." he said catching his breath. His attempts to ignore the throbbing in his head were unsuccessful. "We better get going," Ed interrupted. "It's getting late. I'll follow behind you in my van and make sure you both get to your apartment safely." He was standing behind Sloan, and he too, seemed worried about Tom.
It was a long drive back to Sloan's apartment. Tom sat quietly and motionless during most of the trip, but he watched Sloan intently as she drove hurriedly home. He thought about how intriguing she was, how different - how special. As he studied her face and allowed her emotions to wash over him, he thought back to when he had first seen her - when he had first begun to "study" her. She was so genuine, so unsuspecting .... so beautiful. He remembered regretting having to kill her - not really wanting to kill her. How could he? How could he extinguish the life of such a remarkable specimen, and one so different from so many others of her kind that he had encountered... She felt things - deeply, without pretense and without shame - and her mind - oh, her mind! Her intelligence was comparable to that of his species! Her mental aptitude alone warranted so much respect! But her curiosity, her need to "know" was what got her into all this trouble in the first place. He had tried to dissuade her from her passionate quest for knowledge and truth, but he had failed. She persisted. Yet in a strange way he admired her for not submitting to him - for remaining true to herself. No matter the cost, Sloan had definitely remained true to herself - and it fascinated him.... it attracted him to her. "We're almost home, Tom" Sloan said breaking the silence that had allowed Tom to become completely absorbed in his thoughts. "I'll take care of you," she continued. "You'll be all right." "Thank you, Sloan," he whispered still staring intently at her face. The emotions washing over him, through him, within him were perplexing. He could no longer separate Sloan's emotions from those that he himself had only recently begun to experience and to feel. Empathy - joy - affection...... Exhausted, he closed his eyes as he meditated upon all the changes that had occurred in his life - that were transpiring inside himself. He quickly fell asleep.
Scene 2: Unknown house. Same evening. Sparsely furnished kitchen. They sat across from each other at the dining table, one male and one female of their species. The male, tall, mature, and with icy blue eyes, sipped a cappuccino as he listened to the news the woman in front of him was relaying. It did not surprise him that Tom withstood their torture. The former chameleon and their once future leader had said nothing and had endured hours of torment without breaking. But Dr. Parker's behavior proved to be quite unexpected. Perhaps they - he - had underestimated her. Her intellectual prowess was indisputable, yes, but was she courageous as well? Perhaps it had nothing to do with bravery at all, but with irrational human attachment. He smiled at the thought of it. "What fools these mortals be," he said quoting Shakespeare, one of the few human playwrights he found minimally tolerable. "Dr. Parker's work may be a threat to our existence and to the master plan," he said to his companion, "but I believe we've just discovered her Achilles heal. The young doctor seems to be a slave to her emotions - to her petty human attachments." "Yes," the woman responded. She was dressed in a pale blue dress that hung loosely on her body. Her hair, straight and blond, rested just below her shoulders. "It's a pity that Tom has become what he has," she continued. "what a waste...." "Well," he said as he took another drink of his coffee. "I'm sure we will be able to use Dr. Parker's weakness, and Tom's, to our advantage one day - when the time is right." The thought of his own superiority and power over such feeble human beings excited him. He looked sensually at the woman sitting across from him and allowed his eyes to wander lustfully from the base of her neck down to the curves of her breast. She smiled as she returned his gaze and then slowly began to unbutton her loosely fitting dress. The smell of brute instinct filled the room. He stood up and prepared to approach her but stopped himself as he heard the sound of the front door opening. Discontinuing the ritual that had begun, he returned to his seat and waited for the third party to join them in the kitchen. A younger woman, also blond but with shorter hair, entered the room. "Lisa," he said. "Welcome. What news have you to share with us?" He had finished his cappuccino and began to prepare another. "They've discovered the sacred pillar," Lisa responded. "As we speak, Attwood is making preparations to confiscate it - to have it removed from Vasquez Rocks and transported to an empty warehouse near their university lab." She looked over to the woman sitting quietly at the table. "Your son led them to it," Lisa continued. "And only he could have brought the mummy to them as well." She spoke bluntly, but without accusation, without panic, without concern. "Yes," Tom's mother replied. "We had already suspected as much." She watched as the male returned to the table with a new cup of coffee. "Tom confessed to nothing, but it is obvious that he is no longer one of us." "For now," the male said. "He will become so again - or he will die." He turned to Lisa. "And my young chameleon," he began. "As for the sacred pillar.... we will fight them, of course - it won't be easy for them to remove our sacred canon from its proper place. Perhaps they'll succeed in deciphering our scriptures - perhaps not. Perhaps it's irrelevant." His voice was confident, proud. "Tom can tell them nothing about the pillar," Tom's mother said. "His programming won't allow that. He'll die first...." "Perhaps he will," he replied. "If so, then Dr. Parker and her friends will have done our work for us." He sighed as he swallowed a mouthful of the hot and creamy liquid. "No matter," he began. "If they succeed in removing the pillar from its sacred resting place, we will have no choice but to destroy it. Better that it be decimated than left in their hands to dissect and displayed in one of their insipid museums." Then turning to Lisa he asked, "And what of Eric's body?" "Not to worry," Lisa began. "They won't have any remains to autopsy - our 'crew' should be at the coroners building as we speak." "Very good," he said coldly. "You do understand what this means, Lisa, don't you?" He tilted his head as he waited for his young pupil to respond. "Yes, of course," she said. "I must continue and finish Eric's assignments..." "Correct," he continued. "But you must work hard these next few weeks to perfect your masking skills." He left the table and proceeded towards the living room. "Eric's next target was a young reporter, who of late has been quite a nuisance to us. He is your assignment now." "I understand," Lisa replied. "Very good," he said. "That will be all, Lisa," he continued. "I'll see you tomorrow." He then motioned to Tom's mother who was still sitting comfortably at the table. "I believe we have some unfinished business we must attend to," he said. She nodded. Following him into the living room, she slowly began to unbutton her dress......
Scene 3: Attwood's office at the University Lab. Same evening. "That's correct," Attwood said into the phone. He was alone in his office and had just completed reading Ed's report about the mummy Sloan and he had found in Mexico. More importantly, however, Attwood's informants who had secretly followed Sloan's team to Mexico also briefed him about the pillar they had discovered. "I'll be on the next plane out," he said. "I should be there just after midnight. The operation must be initiated at dawn, no later." He was speaking to his contact. Her authorization and help were necessary before he could organize the operation to confiscate the pillar. "That's correct," he said again. "The pillar is their sacred canon.... like their Bible, so to speak. It can tell us so much about the new species... their societal structure .... history .... their prophecies about their future .... our future." "Do what you must then to obtain it," she said through the phone. "Call me once you have the pillar - I don't want to hear from you before then. Is that clear?" "Absolutely," he replied. "One more thing..." he stopped short as soon as he heard the dial tone. She had hung up abruptly. Sighing a sigh of frustration, Attwood returned the phone to its cradle and prepared to leave. He only needed his briefcase and his cellular phone. If all went well, he wouldn't be away from the Lab very long - he should be back here no later than lunch time tomorrow. "Positive thinking," he said aloud as he donned his overcoat and locked up his office.
Scene 4: Sloan's apartment. Tom is resting fitfully in her bed. It was 11pm by the time they arrived at Sloan's apartment. Tom had slept part of the way but had awaken immediately as soon as they had pulled up in front of Sloan's home. He felt a little better despite the pain that continued to surge through his muscles. What a dose of his own medicine - such a painful lesson in empathy! He himself had never been tortured, but he had on several occasions inflicted such beatings on others before. Many others. Ruthless beatings and ferocious interrogations..... Images from his past - of who he was - played through Tom's mind as Sloan and Ed guided him up to the apartment. He felt guilty, sorry - for what he had done. And now, strangely enough, he was being helped by those whom he was ordered to kill - those whom he had been taught to believe were "enemies." Ironic. His own "kind" would have extinguished his life without a second thought. But the woman he was sent to murder, the "enemy" and threat to his existence, had just saved his life at the risk of her own. Oh, what a conundrum his world had become! Things used to be so black and white, so clear cut - it was an "us against them" scenario - simple, straightforward, no ambiguities, no gray areas. Now all that there was, all Tom knew - was the "gray area." He was sure of nothing anymore, except that there was no turning back for him - only forward to a precarious future of being alone and belonging nowhere. But there was Sloan...... "Tom," Sloan said rousing him from his semi-state of contemplation and reverie. "You need to drink this," she continued. "You're dehydrated..." She was sitting beside him on her bed where he had been resting. Then, after propping up pillows behind him, she gently held a glass of water to his mouth as he drank.... slowly at first, but then more ardently as his thirst overcame him. Having emptied the glass he laid back against the bed's headboard and watched as Sloan removed his shoes. "I made some noodle soup," she said with a smile. It was a sweet smile, radiating affection and concern, and it comforted Tom. "I want you to try and eat some before you fall back asleep, ok?" She walked to the kitchen and returned with a bed tray with a bowl of warm soup in the middle of it. Positioning the tray in front of Tom, she began to feed him one spoonful of soup at a time, making sure that he had his fill. He was most definitely hungry. He had emptied the entire bowl. "Good boy," Sloan said playfully. "Now you need to rest. But first let me see what I can do for those nasty bruises and lashes...." Her smile was gone. An expression of concern settled on her face as she examined Tom's beaten body. She moved the tray onto the floor next to the bed and then disappeared into the bathroom. Tom heard her turn on the faucet ... then sounds of clinking bottles .... Moments later she returned with a basin filled with warm salve-treated water and a washcloth. Carefully she dipped part of the washcloth into the basin, saturating it with the medicated liquid, and then began to swab the bruises and lacerations on his arms and chest. It stung him at first, and he flinched as she continued to apply the cloth to the abrasions on his stomach. "I need you to turn over, Tom," Sloan said. "Your back is in worse shape...." Her voice was gentle, nurturing, and Tom sensed that she regretted having to apply the stinging yet medicating salve to his already very sore body. Effortfully he rolled onto his stomach and gasped in pain as the warm liquid seeped into the broken and bruised skin on his back. "This should speed up the healing," she said having finished the process. He was actually feeling better already, but he was too tired to tell her. Sloan then rearranged the pillows behind him and the covers about him. "Sleep now," she whispered. So he closed his eyes - one of his hands still clutching hers .... *********** Although Tom had said very little all evening, Sloan knew by the look in his eyes that he was grateful - weak and little able to speak - but grateful. She also noticed something different in his countenance - in the way he never took his eyes off of her as she was feeding him and tending to his wounds. There was a sense of "brokenness" in his eyes and in his soul. He seemed confused, but determined - committed to survive - committed to her. She watched him as he gradually fell asleep in her bed - as he slowly entered a state of reverie. Gently running her fingers through his hair she thought about how relieved she was that he was all right and there with her. "Oh, Tom," she whispered. But sleep had engulfed him - and Sloan's sighs were unheard.
He was dreaming.... and remembering. He knew it was a dream because he was 12 years old again, and in his childhood home with his mother and brothers...and sister. They were in a large room and mother was telling them about their destiny. Tom was one of the chosen, a leader of their people - she explained - he had marks on his body that branded him, that separated him from others in his species. He had a special calling - not because he was the first born - but because he possessed intellectual and physical prowess that were distinct among his peers. He was endowed with a strong sense of "self," "purpose" and "discipline" - all of which were critical traits of an effective leader. He had accepted his destiny, as did his brothers Kyle and Lars. But it had not yet been decided what his sister Kara's place in the master plan would be. She had always been an odd sort, susceptible to emotional outbursts and stubborn willfulness. Mother and the others were retraining her - and they were succeeding - but the reprogramming had delayed Kara's induction into their species' master plan and ultimate destiny. "In a few years Tom will leave us to begin formal preparation," mother said. The four children were sitting quietly in chairs lined up in single file. Tom was between Lars and Kara, listening intently to his mother's words. "He will be placed in the Federal Bureau of Investigation - inside the Homo sapiens government." She paced slowly back and forth as she spoke. "Kyle will depart shortly afterwards and trained for his position in NASA." Pride resonated in her voice. She opened one of the cupboards in the room and brought out a small black case. "Lars," she said as she removed the contents of the black case, "you, son, will be part of the United Nations - the Homo sapiens world organization." She then walked over to Kara and said nothing. Her countenance, as she stood directly in front of her only daughter, was void of emotion, but not void of expectation. "Be worthy of your calling," she said to her children. "The survival of our species depends on each of us and all of us. We must remain single-minded and committed to the cause, never faltering, never yielding, willing to die." She paused and waited for her children to respond. "Yes, mother," they said in unison. "Very good," she said with a smile. Turning towards the counter where she had laid out the contents of the black case, she then meticulously prepared four syringes and lined them up in a row. The ritual completed, she walked towards the door that separated one room of the house from the other and motioned for someone to enter. Within seconds another adult joined them in the room. He was tall, domineering, powerful. He eyed each 12 year old child sitting in front of him with pride and with insight into who they were and who they were meant to be. He then busied himself at the counter, examining the syringes that Tom's mother had set aside. As both adults tended to the syringes and had their backs to the children, Tom glanced at his sister sitting next to him. He had sensed emotion from her. Looking quickly at Kara he noticed a tear roll down her cheek. Swiftly, before his mother and the male faced them again, Tom wiped the tear from his sister's face, foolishly thinking - hoping- that the adults wouldn't notice. "Kara, don't..." he whispered. "Don't bother," the male said, still with his back to them. "What, Tom... did you think that you were the only one who sensed your sister's feelings?" He walked towards them slowly. "But she is improving, you know. It's just a matter of time. I do applaud your keen sensing abilities, Tom - so sharp for one so young - and you exercise good judgment telling her to stop." He positioned the syringe at Tom's arm and depressed the needle into his skin. Tom flinched as the fluid entered his veins. He watched as the male injected his siblings - one at a time. They had all grown accustomed to this ritual - once every week - since they were all 5 years old. But something from deep within him was protesting at the moment - was enraged by what he was reliving, dreaming, remembering ... "No...." Tom tried to say, but he had no voice. "No... mother...." but he was still unable to utter any words. Suddenly he was an adult again, standing in the same room, and watching....just watching as the children's lessons and the ritual proceeded. He saw himself, the twelve year old self, and his siblings, staring straight ahead, sitting side by side in single file, as they listened to their mother.... and to the male. "There can be no co-existence," the male said. And the children repeated after him. "Stop..." the adult Tom tried to say. "No... he's wrong... they're wrong...." he mouthed the words but none were audible. "Don't listen... don't believe ... no... Sloan???" Tom thrashed fitfully in Sloan's bed as if trying to wake himself from the nightmare he was reliving. His head turned side to side on the pillow that Sloan had so carefully arranged for him, and the sheets over and underneath him were drenched with his perspiration. "Sloan," he moaned as he entered a semi-state of wakefulness. She heard him. Immediately Sloan jumped up from the couch on which she had been sleeping and ran to his side. "Tom," she whispered. "It's all right...." She walked to the bathroom and returned with a clean washcloth. Gently, she wiped the sweat from his forehead and face. "Sloan," he said again. He was partly awake, and partly still in a state of reverie. Struggled as he did to regain full consciousness, he nevertheless succumbed to sleep once again. Instantly, he entered another nightmarish recollection. Unbeknownst to him Sloan remained at his side.
He was fifteen. They were all fifteen - and preparing for the next phase in their existence. Training - programming. He was the first to be taken away. He was standing in front of their house waiting for the others to come for him. He was alone. His brothers were in their classes, and Kara in reprogramming - no, she was approaching him, running towards the house. "Tom," she gasped trying to catch her breath as soon as she had reached him. "I came to say goodbye." She had short blond hair and eyes as blue as all her brothers'. "You shouldn't be here, Kara," the fifteen year old Tom replied. "They'll punish you for abandoning your reprogramming exercises today." "I know," she said. "But I wanted to see you before they took you away. It may be a long time before we see each other again - any of us..." she had tears in her eyes. Tom looked at her, fascinated, perplexed. "Kara," he begun. "You must stop this. You must control - no, you must kill this emotional vein in you. If you don't, they will kill you." "I can't help it," she whimpered. "But you..." "You must," Tom interrupted. "You must, Kara. There are no choices in the matter. Emotions will only lead to our destruction." He spoke authoritatively to his sister, but not coldly. "Now, go...." Obediently Kara wiped the tears from her eyes and regained her composure. Her countenance resembled that of her brother's again - indifferent, stoic, empty. She wondered when this brother of hers would realize how much alike they were - and how different they were from so many of their kind. "Goodbye, Tom," she said. But before she turned away she wrapped her arms around her brother and embraced him. He returned her embrace, allowing himself for a moment, but only a brief moment, to feel affection for his only sister. Then she turned and ran back towards the direction she had come. Tom watched as she disappeared gradually from sight. He should feel sad, he supposed, but he felt nothing. That's the way it should be - the way it always should be - he must feel nothing. He sensed them approaching. The time had come. Turning to his left he saw them - one adult male, one female - coming for him.
He was in training .... still dreaming .... still imprisoned in a nightmarish state of reverie .... couldn't get out .... couldn't make them stop .... couldn't wake up ..... he wanted to wake up!! They were erasing his mind .... all his memories .... Lars ... Kara .... Kyle ..... Kara's tears ..... no .... couldn't remember anymore .... struggling to remember ..... blood ... he killed them .... so much blood .... five people .... killed them ..... he had to .... enemies ....threat .... "We will reign in the kingdom of man," he heard the voice say repeatedly, endlessly - painfully until he submitted, until he succumbed, until he obeyed. "Nooo," he tried to say - tried to fight - struggled to choose... "Nooo," Tom cried uselessly. It was too late. They had taken everything from him. He couldn't remember - where he came from, his family, his past - all that was left was who they said he was - a chameleon, a killer - and who he was meant to be - a leader of his species. It was too late - they had won - he belonged to them.... But she was there.... he sensed her there next to him, watching over him - affection, concern - pulling him away from them - saving him ..... "Sloan..." he tried to speak but again failed to produce the words. He remembered nothing - his past - his family - everything had faded away into oblivion - but Sloan was there..... She was his present, his then and now, his future. He had been robbed of his past, but he had a future - and he wasn't going to allow anyone or anything to take that away from him.
Gradually Tom awoke from his fitful rest. But he lay motionless on Sloan's bed, exhausted from his disquieting sleep, and allowed himself to drink in the affection that Sloan was feeling as she sat at the foot of the bed. He needed it. He needed her. She had been watching him sleep. He had been asleep for 24 hours and she was worried about him. He had so many bad dreams from which she failed to rouse him, but he was peaceful now. Better, she hoped. Finishing her tea she rose to rinse her mug out in the kitchen sink - but she hadn't taken two steps when she heard Tom's voice. "Don't go," he said softly. He had actually spoken the words this time. He heard his own voice, the one that he had lost in his nightmares when he needed it the most. But what mattered was that she had heard it - she heard him. Almost immediately she returned to his side. She looked worried but hopeful that he had recovered. Tom opened his eyes and turned to look at her. What a sight she was to wake up to, to return to - so genuine, so unsuspecting, so beautiful - just as she was when he had first seen her...... |
The End 
