She found herself in the cabin, alone. Standing in the doorway, she shivered. It had to be another nightmare. A dreamwalk here would be pointless. Why would she be sent to an empty house? Sliding inside and closing the door behind her against the wind, she flipped on the lights. They flickered and dimmed, the neon buzz the only sound in the eerie silence.

Then she heard it. Humming, a woman’s voice. It rose to soft singing, growing closer. Ellette stood frozen against the door, waiting as the sound neared, along with feather soft footfalls down the stairs, just out of view. Then, there she was, a woman, tall, thin wisp of a woman. She wore yoga pants and a floral smock, her salt, and pepper hair in a chin-length bob. Perfectly natural, unremarkable, and yet lovely--and translucent.

“I hoped you’d come,” the woman said.

Ellette’s heart leaped. She hadn’t expected the vision before her to speak, let alone acknowledge her. Ellette struggled for words, her mind racing. The woman, who she knew to be Evelyn, Rand’s mother from the photo, approached her, hand outstretched.

“I am happy Rand brought you here,” she continued, taking Ellette’s hand. Ellette stared at the hand that grasped hers, soft, warm, and surprisingly substantial.

“You... how are you...?” Ellette managed to squeak out.

“Come now, you visit people through your dreams,” the woman laughed. “Why would this surprise you?”

Ellette allowed herself to be drawn into the house, to the couch.

“Sit, please, so we can chat,” Evelyn encouraged, settling into the couch herself. “Our time here is short.”

Ellette did as she was asked, studying this kind, soft-spoken woman in awe. “How do you know about me?”

“I watch,” she replied simply. “But I must warn you, there are dangers, as your instincts have likely told you. No gift is without its costs.”

Ellette nodded, “I know, nightmares... “

Evelyn shook her head, “No, there is more. So much more...”

The lights flickered and dimmed. Ellette felt a distinct tingling at the base of her skull, and Evelyn grabbed her hand, holding it tight.

“You are a servant of the moon. Yet the moon, she jealously guards her own. You are hers.” Evelyne’s voice was urgent but fading. “Take care, don’t let my son suffer...”

“What do you mean?” Ellette’s tongue was heavy in her mouth, her words coming out slurred as she transitioned from dream to waking.

“I didn’t say anything,” Rand's voice broke the spell, and all at once, she was aware. She was back in the boat. Rand was pulling the craft ashore, the sound of the gravel scraping the bottom beneath her. She sat up in her bed of lifejackets, still wrapped in his jacket.

“I dreamt of your mother...”

“Oh?” Rand asked, ruffling her hair before putting out a hand to help her up. “What did she have to say?”

“She told me...” Ellette mused as she stood, taking his hand and stepping out of the boat. “That the moon is jealous...”

Rand raised a brow and squeezed her hand. “That’s odd. Poor mother, she finally gets to meet you and she’s the bearer of bad news.”

Ellette swiped at his shoulder. “This isn’t a joke.”

Rand shrugged. “Come on Ellette, sometimes your dreams must be just dreams. You’re paranoid, we were talking about my mother, your subconscious took you for a ride.”

She shivered and shoved his jacket into his arms. There was no use arguing. He could be right, but Evelyn’s words echoed in her thoughts.

“It was strange, though, Rand. How do we know there aren’t others like me? Maybe there are other people who understand, could help...”

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Rand shrugged. “There probably is or has been. And Jessie knew about you.”

Ellette shook her head, “That crazy woman? I don’t know how much I can trust her.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Let's just get back inside. I’m freezing.”

“I don’t mean to belittle your fears, Ellette,” Rand said, trailing after her. “I just don’t think worrying is healthy or productive.” He sighed then. “I’d like for us to just have a normal night, for you to enjoy this place with me.”

She slowed her pace and caught his hand. He was right. He always was. This was his place, his trip, it meant so much to him. She wouldn’t let her problems or fears overshadow that. “How is an evening spent on a boat staring up at an ocean of stars normal?” She teased, only forcing the light tone a little.

“Okay, well, maybe normal was the wrong word. How about non-supernatural?”

Ellette laughed then. “Supernatural? I’m not supernatural.”

“Well, what you do is not natural...”

“I’m not like, some ghost hunter or something,” she scoffed. “Or Buffy...”

“No, you just magically dream yourself into other people’s realities.”

“Alright, alright. I get it." She gave in. "Though I don't' think talking about the abnormal will make our evening any more normal."

They’d made their way back to the cabin and she tugged open the door, the previous dream nearly forgotten in their banter. Yet, as she flicked on the lights, the ominous buzz of neon brought it all crashing back. She could almost smell that faint whiff of Evelyn’s perfume and found herself straining for a hum. Rand ruffled her hair, hung his jacket, and made his way to the couch, oblivious to the internal struggle that had frozen Ellette in her tracks. She followed suit mechanically, haunted by the feeling of being watched. Evelyn was still here, she was sure of it. Just beyond their senses.

"Come on, I found that really obnoxious Kung Fu spoof you like," Rand called from the couch, jarring her from her reflection.

"You brought the snacks on from the boat, right?" She asked, hoping for the excuse to get out of the house, to escape that haunting lingering essence.

Rand sat up and cursed. "Left my flute out there too..."

"I'll get it " she interjected pulling his jacket on and escaping out to the sobering bite of cold.

Sleep that night came in restless fits and starts. Fear of dreamwalking, the sensation of being watched kept her from ever fully submitting herself to restful arms of sleep. The full meaning behind Evelyn's words spun endlessly through her thoughts. She would need to find Jessie, though she knew better than to hope for a straight answer from the fae woman. But she was the only one who seemed to know anything, and another encounter with Rand's mother wasn't high on her list of encounters she would want to repeat. . Granted, Evelyn was perfectly lovely, but she was dead. She shouldn't exist, and their conversation should have never happened. Ellette couldn't shake that undeniable truth. Dreamwalking was difficult enough for her to rationalize.

She fought to enjoy, to be present the next day while Rand took her on a hike around the lake, and then fishing. He shared stories of his mother and of bringing Reid to their special place. It was hard for her to relate to these anecdotal tales and memories of his child. Children were creatures who existed on a different plane for her. She had been on once, knew people had them, but her interaction with children was limited to observation. It was obviously therapeutic for him, and she lent the ear he needed. She related to loss and that seemed to be enough.

Relief came when it was time to leave for the train, and she sat watching the scenery fly by. Rand seemed to have worked through this stage in his grieving process and she was happy for him. Healing himself others, it was what he did best. Though he seemed to think music defined him, he was so much more, and always had been. Ellette reached out and took his hand across the table, wishing she could explain this to him, this revelation.

His eyes met hers and he smiled, scarred fingers of his left hand twitching in time to the music he was listening to. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, struggling to voice these thoughts. Rand pulled the headphones loose and leaned towards her, expectantly. “Were you trying to say something? I didn’t realize...”

Ellette shook her head and tried again. “You mean a lot to me...” she sighed, knowing that she wasn’t coming anywhere close to what her thoughts were. “I think, I think you are a lot more important than you realize...”

He laughed, pulling her hand towards him, and her along with it. “Those sound like my lines, miss Dreamwalker,” he whispered conspiratorially, leaning in close to her.

“No, you’re not listening,” she muttered. “I mean it, Rand. What you do, your job, your talent...” she shook her head. “No,” she struggled to explain, “that’s not it, not exactly... I mean. You’re important, and not just to me. Your clients, your family...” She turned his hand over in hers, tracing her fingers over the network of scars on his palm. He flinched, closing his hand around hers, effectively stilling her. “You’re more than music,” she said softly. “Music just helped you to be... to be... you...”

He nodded, and glanced back out the window, his thumb working over the smooth skin of her hand in slow circles. Her heart dropped, knowing her words had fallen woefully short of the mark. Still, she had put it out there, and had meant every word, as fumbling and feeble as they’d been.

That evening, she pulled the bed out of the couch. The evening had been strangely solemn, and she gave no explanation as to why she wouldn’t be joining Rand in his room, as had been the custom since moving to their new apartment. She needed her space, but more than anything, the thought of pulling him into her realm, her dreams, scared her. Evelyn’s warning, her final plea: Don’t let my son suffer. Ellette couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t chance causing him any more pain.

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