The Dream Between Us

The gate closed behind Lydia with a sound like iron sighing.

She froze.

The world beyond it was unnaturally still.

No wind.

No birds.

No whisper of leaves.

Only silence.

Ahead of her, the old building rose from the earth like something half-forgotten by time.

Its stone walls were draped in thick vines, their leaves dark and glossy beneath the moonlight. Cracks ran through the masonry, and twisted ivy climbed the windows in black ropes.

Yet despite its age, it did not feel abandoned.

It felt watched.

The warmth in Lydia’s chest pulsed.

Stronger now.

Like a heartbeat.

He’s here.

Her feet moved before fear could stop them.

She climbed the worn stone steps and reached for the front door.

The handle was colder than the gate.

Her fingers shook.

Then she pushed.

The door opened inward with surprising ease.

The inside was nothing like she expected.

Lydia stopped in the doorway.

Bright white light spilled across a long hallway.

Sterile.

Clean.

Empty.

Gone were the vines and stone and shadows.

The corridor was smooth and barren, its walls pale as bone, the floor polished to a mirrored shine.

At the far end stood a single door.

Only one.

The light above it glowed cold and steady.

For a moment, Lydia could only stare.

It didn’t belong here.

This looked less like a mansion and more like…

No.

The thought slipped away before she could grasp it.

Her breath sounded too loud in the silence.

Step by step, she walked forward.

The hallway seemed longer than it should have been.

Her footsteps echoed.

The light buzzed softly overhead.

The warmth in her chest had become almost painful.

With every step, it pulled harder.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.

Clay.

Please be here.

When she reached the door, her hand hovered over the knob.

Fear finally caught up to her.

What if he wasn’t there?

What if she had come all this way only to find…

No.

She couldn’t think it.

Slowly, she turned the handle.

The door opened.

And Lydia forgot how to breathe.

The room beyond was not a room.

It was a void.

An endless black space with no walls, no corners, no visible floor.

Only darkness stretching forever in every direction.

And in the center of it…

a bed.

A single narrow bed beneath one bright overhead light.

On it lay Clay.

Still.

Silent.

His dark hair fell softly across his forehead.

His face looked peaceful.

Too peaceful.

His eyes were closed.

For one horrible moment, Lydia thought

No.

Her chest tightened painfully.

“Clay?”

Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

No response.

She stepped closer.

Tears blurred her vision.

He looked exactly as she remembered.

Beautiful.

Familiar.

And yet heartbreakingly distant.

“Clay…”

Her voice cracked.

All this time.

All this time he had been here.

She moved toward him instinctively, reaching out.

Her fingertips hovered just above his hand.

Then…

“DON’T TOUCH HIM.”

The voice split the silence like thunder.

Lydia gasped and spun around.

A woman stood behind her.

Tall.

Thin.

Severe.

She had not been there a moment ago.

Her black dress seemed to move like smoke, trailing into the darkness behind her. Her hair was silver-black, falling in a long braid over one shoulder.

Her eyes were pale green.

Too bright.

Too knowing.

The Keeper.

Though no one had spoken her name, Lydia somehow knew.

The woman’s expression was sharp.

“How did you find this place?”

Lydia stumbled backward, heart pounding.

“I… I was looking for him.”

The Keeper’s eyes narrowed.

“You should not be here.”

Lydia looked back at Clay.

“Why is he sleeping?”

The woman’s face softened.

Only slightly.

“He is not sleeping.”

Lydia turned slowly.

“What do you mean?”

The Keeper looked toward the bed.

“He is in a coma.”

The words struck Lydia like ice.

A coma.

No.

That couldn’t be right.

This was the dream world.

This wasn’t real.

Was it?

The Keeper’s voice lowered.

“He walks this realm only while his body fights to survive in the waking world.”

Lydia’s knees buckled.

She sank to the floor.

Tears spilled freely now.

Everything crashed together.

His disappearances.

The missing time.

The changing town.

The dream world.

He belonged somewhere else.

He had another life.

Another world.

And she had only ever gotten pieces of him.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

The Keeper watched her carefully.

“He should not be disturbed.”

Lydia looked up, tears streaking her face.

“Is he dying?”

The Keeper did not answer.

That was answer enough.

Lydia’s breath broke into a sob.

All this time she had searched for him.

All this time she had thought he was lost.

But he had been fighting for his life.

And she had not even known.

Her gaze moved back to him.

He looked so far away.

So unreachable.

Her voice trembled.

“Can I talk to him?”

The Keeper was silent for a long moment.

Then finally…

“Yes.”

Hope flared painfully in Lydia’s chest.

“But you must not touch him.”

Lydia nodded quickly.

“I won’t.”

The Keeper stepped back.

“Speak your goodbye.”

Goodbye.

The word shattered something inside her.

Lydia moved to the bedside.

Her hands trembled at her sides.

She stood close enough to see the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Relief and heartbreak tangled together.

At least he was still here.

At least she had found him.

Tears slid down her cheeks.

“Clay…”

Her voice was barely steady.

“I didn’t know.”

She laughed weakly through the tears.

“I didn’t know any of this.”

Her throat tightened.

“I missed you.”

The words came out raw.

Honest.

“I kept looking for you everywhere.”

She drew in a shaky breath.

“I love you.”

The silence after the words felt infinite.

“I know this isn’t your world,” she whispered. “And maybe it isn’t mine either.”

Her voice broke.

“But I hope… when you wake up… that you live a beautiful life.”

More tears.

“I hope you laugh.”

“I hope you love.”

“I hope you find happiness.”

Her hand trembled, wanting so badly to reach for him.

But she didn’t.

“I hope somehow… one day… you dream of me again.”

Her breath shuddered.

“Goodbye, Clay.”

She turned.

One step.

Then…

“Lydia.”

Her heart stopped.

She spun around.

Clay’s eyes were open.

Bright.

Terrified.

Alive.

Tears instantly filled her eyes.

“Clay…”

His hand reached toward her.

“Don’t leave.”

The words tore through her.

She rushed forward instinctively…

Then the Keeper’s arm swept through the air.

A violent rush of wind exploded through the void.

Lydia screamed as the force lifted her backward.

“No!”

Clay lunged for her.

Their fingertips nearly touched.

Then…

darkness.

Wind.

Light.

And she was outside the gate.

Thrown hard into the grass.

The gate slammed shut.

Lydia scrambled to her knees, pounding against the iron bars.

“Clay!”

No answer.

Only silence.

She beat her fists against the gate, sobbing.

“Please!”

Still nothing.

Only the cold moonlight.

And the terrible fear that she had lost him all over again.