A Temporary Escape...maybe

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

Monroe laid sprawled across the sofa, one arm draped across the floor and the other across his forehead. He hadn't had this kind of rest in a long time. The room was totally dark and he hadn't even cared that the couch wasn't as comfy as his bed. He could actually sleep here. He could get away from the dreams of many students that plagued him, he could maybe finally catch up on rest even if he was infinitely behind.

He'd taken up Zeb's offer for the first time since the dorm monitor had mentioned it. While Monroe had his fair share of trainers over the years, Zeb seemed to understand him like none of them ever had because he knew what it was like to a certain extent. He was thankful for that and for the sleep he was currently getting.

After a long day of classes, it was something he needed. However, he wasn't aware that while he'd escaped the dreams of his peers, there was still someone else in the direct vicinity whose dreams he could fall into.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb liked to think that he provided a listening ear to all of the students of Hammel. Of course, not all of them cared to use him in that way. He was sure most of them saw him as some sort of evil man who was constantly trying to catch them doing something that was against the rules in the halls. Which was almost hysterical, since Zeb was horrible at discipline.

So, needless to say, Zeb was thrilled to be able to be so close with Monroe. He saw so much of his younger self in the young boy. And although Zeb certainly didn't have all of the answers, at least he knew the issues that Monroe was dealing with in a personal way.

He had been glad when a very tired looking Monroe had shown up to take him up on the offer to crash in his apartment. After trying to make the couch more comfortable and double checking that they had enough coffee for the morning, Zeb said goodnight and headed into his own room. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling good that he was able to help in his own small way.

~~~~~~~~~

Zeb was sitting by the shore of a large purple river, besides a very large turtle in a sweater vest. The turtle was explaining something about a fishing contest going on that day, but Zeb was having such a hard time understanding him, because the turtle was speaking with a very thick accent that he couldn't quite place.

"Sir," Zeb said. "Would you mind slowing down?"

And with that the turtle handed him a clothes hanger, some dental floss, and an apple. He then pointed his turtle paw(?) at the waters and walked away.

"I have to fish with this?" Zeb said in disbelief, mostly to himself since the turtle seemed to have faded away. It was then that he felt something behind him and turning he saw the form of a person.

"Do you know how to fish? I could use some help here. " he called out, holding up the items the turtle had given him.

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

Monroe was surrounded by black--the color of the inside of his eyelids. Something he wasn't used to, but then, like always, it faded into a scene, a dream. It came piece by piece. A purple river. Trees. A turtle and then the subject of the dream.

He blinked. Was that...Zeb? Shit. Of course this just had to happen. He sighed to himself. Really, he could pull out of the dream, but he was finally getting rest and pulling out of the dream would zap a lot of his energy. Besides, the dorm monitor couldn't have too bad of dreams, right?

He observed the scene from afar, watching as Zeb talked to the turtle who was speaking some sort of foreign language that Monroe couldn't pinpoint. And then Zeb was left with a fishing rod? He didn't have time to ponder it, because the dorm monitor turned around to face him. "Not really," Monroe mumbled, still keeping himself slightly in the dark, although he figured Zeb would recognize his voice. "But I think that's because I grew up without a dad."

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb was still trying to figure out this whole fishing thing. He hadn't really expected the person to answer back. Or at least not in a helpful way if the earlier turtle was anything to go by. So when he recognized the voice, he was a bit startled at first. And then it hit him.

He frowned. Well this was...unexpected. Though he supposed he should have expected it at least a little. It was just so..odd to think of others visiting his dreams that it hadn't really dawned on him.

"Mr. Montgomery?" Zeb called out. "You can come out here if you'd like. No need to stay in the shadows." With that Zeb gave up on the 'fishing' and set down on the bank of the bank of the river.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Zeb said. And he was sorry. Sorry for a boy that didn't have a father in his life. And sorry for a boy that had gotten dragged into yet another dream.

At least he wasn't having a nightmare.

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

Mostly, Monroe stayed in the shadows because he felt as if he was intruding. Zeb had offered him his sofa for the night and now he was in his dream. Sure, it was possible it would happen, but Monroe still felt awkward about it.

Slowly, he stepped out of the shadows, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. And then he shrugged. "It's fine." He didn't really get into his personal matters too much, it was just a fleeting mention, he couldn't dwell on it or it would actually start to take a toll on him. He looked down at the discarded fishing pole. "So, do you normally dream about foreign turtles or...?" He managed to crack a smile.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

"Don't be sorry," Zeb said, before the word had hardly left the Monroe's mouth. Really Zeb felt like it was he who should be sorry. It was just so...unexpected. He'd always wondered what other's felt like when he invaded their dreams. At least now he would know.

Zeb nodded at Monroe's comment, but didn't push the issue. "Have a seat, if you'd like," Zeb said, patting the spot on the ground beside him.

Zeb mirrored the boy's smile. "About half the time," he answered. "Well not just foreign turtles. Just complete nonsense." He laughed a little. "But at least you're here during this kind of dream and not during -" Zeb stopped suddenly. He never discussed his own issues with the students (or anybody for that matter) but it seemed his walls were down a little here in the dream.

Also, he was starting to wonder if he would accidentally manipulate his own dreams by thinking about the wrong subject. It wasn't something he could normally do, then again, he'd never had a dream walker in his own head so he didn't know what the rules were. If Monroe was here did that mean his ability was too? He looked at the boy, trying to get a read off of him to see if his telepathy worked. Not that turtles and purple rivers were much to go off of anyway.

"And what about you Mr. Montgomery, ever dream of foreign turtles?"

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

Somehow Monroe knew that Zeb would immediately brush it off, telling him not to be sorry. He was the first person whoever told him that when it came to dreamwalking. That's because he understood and Monroe appreciated that. "I can tell," he agreed with a nod as he moved closer to Zeb, still confused by his dream and how seemingly random it was. Did dreaming about turtles actually have a meaning? "Oh well, it's better to drop into this kind of dream rather than a nightmare or a few select others I've been in..." he trailed off, not wanting to think about it.

And then Zeb was regarding him with a strange stare and Monroe didn't know what to make of it. "Uhm, no. I've never dreamed of foreign turtles. But then again, I don't really have my own dreams anymore." He shrugged.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

"Yeah, I prefer these dreams too. Although last week I had one about the trainers throwing a ballet recital," Zeb said, laughing a little as he remembered. "It made the next day a little difficult." Even this dream was pretty great as far as dreams could go. Nothing wrong with hanging out by a purple river, even if you couldn't understand the turtle's fishing instructions.

Zeb almost asked Monroe to contiue his sentance but decided against it. On the one hand, he wanted the boy to know that Zeb would understand the need to talk to someone about the nightmares he'd visited. It was hard because you couldn't talk to anyone about them not only because you worried you'd be betraying the dreamer, but also because it was often rough subject material. On the other hand, Zeb wasn't so sure a dream was the best place to have that conversation. Besides, Zeb didn't want to press Monroe since he'd been trailing off too.

Zeb wasn't picking up on anything from Monroe. He wasn't sure if that was because he was the one dreaming, because of his dream having nothing that Monroe would connect with, or what? It was weird though, having Monroe in his dreams. But nice at the same time. He liked Monroe and was glad to give him a nonsense dream now and then if it helped.

"Really?" Zeb asked. "Huh, I wonder if that's better or worse?" He was half wondering aloud to himself and hadn't realized he'd actually voiced the question until it was already out in the air.

Zeb was still wondering if he could change his own dream. It wasn't something he was usually able to do. But with Monroe here now, he didn't know if the rules had changed. "What would you like to dream about, if you could pick?"

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

Monroe genuinely laughed. There were some dreams he could appreciate, and the trainers putting on a ballet recital was one of them. It was an amusing thought and he missed seeing dreams that were just random and ridiculous, so it didn't seem as if he was intruding as much.

Honestly he didn't know if it was better or worse either. Sometimes he'd wanted to have his own dreams again. I mean, it wasn't like they were pivotal or anything. They were usually pointless dreams about losing his combat boots or just swirling colors in his head. He didn't really miss them, but then again, he didn't want to be a part of others' dreams either, it only got him into trouble.

He listened to Zeb's question, pondering it. If he could pick? "Is this a trick question? Is there a right or wrong answer?" He felt like there was. Because no matter what he said, he'd probably be viewed differently. What did he want to dream about anyway? He didn't really consider the question often, considering he just didn't dream anymore. "I don't know. Coffee?" It really was his only vice now.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb smiled at the boy's laughter. It was so good to see Monroe smiling and laughing. "To bad I couldn't send you an invitation to join that dream. I'm sure you would have enjoyed it, even if the trainers wouldn't," he said. Even now he laughed a little remembered Mike and Vincent circling each other in tutus.

"No wrong answer," Zeb reassured. And really there wasn't, he was just curious. Of course if Monroe said something like dreaming about burning Hammel down or something else disturbing then perhaps he might have worried a little. But really he had no expectations. Since Zeb still dreamed his own dreams, he often wished he had the power to manipulate his own dreams like he did others.

Now it was Zeb's turn to laugh. "It's good to see someone else shares my obsession," he said. Because really without his daily caffeine dose, Zeb doubted he would be able to remain functional.

And it seemed that his own thoughts turning towards coffee had an effect. The river the two were sitting by was no longer purple, but now a dark brown almost black color. And there was steam clearly coming from the "water". Zeb did a double take, wondering if it was his own subconscious or how ability that had caused the change. Most likely it was the former, but he couldn't help wishing this was some sort of breakthrough.

"Do you see this?" Zeb asked, moving a bit closer to the edge of the river.

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

"I probably would have," Monroe said with a chuckle. The way they were talking about their powers made Monroe feel better about being a dream-walker. If only most dreams were harmless and random and nobody got angry at him for being in them, but that wasn't the case. People viewed dreams as their own, a place in their head where nobody else should be able to enter. He was viewed as an intruder.

He shrugged. "Well, we need coffee to survive. At least I'm convinced that we do." He followed Zeb to the edge of the river and crouched down, looking at the color. There was no way. It was brown. Either it was really polluted or it was... But there was steam and the pleasant smell of coffee. "Your power is so much cooler than mine," he declared. If only he had his coffee mug...

[Zebadiah Hayes]

Zeb only wished there was a way to make Monroe feel this at ease about all of his dream walking. He knew how it felt to be an intruder. And though he didn't want to tell Monroe, he also knew that sometimes even with age and control it wasn't always possible to keep out of others heads. Although hopefully Monroe would learn better control and coping than Zeb had so far. Though it was on his lips to admit this to the boy, Zeb had enough control to keep from doing so. It seemed harder to control his impulses in the dream.

Zeb nodded along. Yes, coffee was truly a gift from the gods. Zeb could still remember when he'd started drinking it as a young student and how he'd thought the effect of a hot caffeinated drink was a miracle.

Again, Zeb turned to focus on the boy. And again he got no reading from him. With that he decided that the coffee river had been a fluke. Just because he could manipulate others dreams, it didn't look like he would be able to do the same in his own, even with Monroe here. "I'm not sure this is my power..." Zeb said, still half-way debating the question to himself. He couldn't help but hold onto the hope of changing future nightmares. "Just another random dream." He smiled though, hoping the boy wouldn't see any of the disappointment he felt.

In fact, he was starting to think that Monroe's power was cooler. At least the boy was just a viewer of dreams. Zeb pitied anyone who could actually read someones thoughts and feelings. He had no idea how Dr. Neville or other telepaths dealt with it on a daily basis. He would have curled up in a ball and just tried to hide from the world.

"Not cooler," he said. "Just different. I find most powers are like that. Most of the time even students with two similar powers have different aspects. Even gestalts are different in the way their personalities merge."

Which made him remember just how bad he'd wished that had been his own power when he'd first arrived at Hammel with his twin sister.

"If you coulda picked, what would you have wanted to do?" Zeb asked. Because what better place for random questions than beside a coffee filled river in a random dream?

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

It was weird to talk so much of their powers. It wasn't often that Monroe talked much about it, at least not past the usual of "I'm tired. I hate my power. Give me coffee." But Zeb could understand to a point.

As he stared at the coffee river, he considered what Zeb said. "You mean you didn't change the river to coffee?" Dream manipulation would be so much better. At least then you didn't have to stand in a dream helplessly and watch someone suffer through a nightmare. You could change it, make it better for them. He'd wished that he'd been able to do that for Adaryn when he'd fallen into her nightmare.

"Yeah...I've heard that," Monroe said, rubbing the back of his neck. "That even two people who have the same power experience the power differently or something like that. I've never met another dream walker, but I know that some of them have the ability to manipulate along with it, or other things..." It just felt like he'd gotten the short end of the stick sometimes.

His next question completely through Monroe for a loop, although it was pleasant to think about. It made him think of Sebastian and the answer that they'd shared to this question. "Nothing," he replied. "If I could have chosen, I wouldn't want a power. I wouldn't want to be a meta-human or be at Hammel. Sure, I've made several friends, but...it would just be easier to be completely human like I thought I was. Growing up is hard enough. If I could pick, I'd want to be back in Maine right now, getting ready to go off to college and graduating from my high school. Still drinking coffee, but not relying on it to get through every single day."

He realized how depressing his answer was and then he felt a pang of guilt...about Sebastian. He missed his friend and felt bad about the whole vision thing. This was the thing about Zeb, he made Monroe think way too much.

[Zebadiah Hayes]

"I don't think so," Zeb said with a shrug. "I can change others' dreams, but not my own." He sighed at the thought, then caught himself and gave Monroe a half smile. He didn't like talking about his own issues with anyone, especially students. But again he was finding it harder to control himself in his own dream. It was confusing and odd. And if it wasn't for the fact that he thought maybe having a good night's sleep or at least a non-nightmare dream filled night would be good for Monroe he might have tried to wake himself up.

Zeb agreed with Monroe that it was a blessing to be able to change others' dreams, to go into the nightmare of a student and help them out. Still it had been a long road to learn that kind of control. As a student he'd been known to give others nightmares. And though it had only actually happened a few times. It was enough to get the word around to everyone and make them avoid him. And for Zeb it was enough guilt to deal with.

Still he kept himself from saying that. Both because he didn't want to have Monroe get upset or sad for him. And also he wanted to keep his own mind away from those thoughts to avoid dragging Monroe into his own nightmares.

But it seemed he was failing at keeping Monroe's spirits up. And again he sighed. "Sorry, didn't mean to drag ya down," he said, giving the boy a smile. "And yeah, I'd still drink coffee too. I can't imagine a morning without it anymore." He laughed a little at himself.

[Thomas "Monroe" Montgomery]

"It would be nice if you could change your own," Monroe mused. "I mean, you would never have a nightmare again." Although Monroe still had a feeling he wouldn't sleep even if he had Zeb's power. It seemed hard to control and he didn't know what Zeb had gone through to get to where he was now, with this kind of control. He could imagine that it must have been rough and that manipulating dreams had happened many times on accident. It was one thing to have people mad at you for intruding their dreams, it was another to intrude and completely change their dream. That was a whole new kind of intrusion and Monroe could barely handle being in someone's dream because as soon as they realized he wasn't part of their mind, they lost it. That's why he chose not to sleep, he hated intruding on others' lives, but even he had to admit, that this felt nice and that because it wasn't a nightmare or a dream in which he was in an alteraction with the dreamer, it felt quite peaceful, as if he was actually getting sleep.

"Man, why couldn't you have been born years later so I could have you as a roommate? I might actually be rested if that were the case." But he knew he couldn't sleep on Zeb's sofa every night and so he would enjoy the sleep while he could.

The question had thrown Monroe off course and made him think about his friend and how much being a meta seemed to suck for both of them. "Don't worry about it. I just got to thinking about something. That's all."