Dreams; real and ridiculous

Laughing as we walk in, the tiny bell jingling over the door. In the diner, our eyes locked. It was him. Sebastian. He flashed me a charming grin. My body turned to concrete, I couldn't move, my friends seemed to dissipate. He left a string of girls behind the come to me.
"You were always my favorite, you know." His voice sent chills down my spine. "I was the one who shot and killed your precious Bryson too."

Sucking in air, I sprang up in bed. My lungs felt like they hadn't tasted oxygen in hours. My hands were shaking. A figure next to me caught my attention. Slowly I reached for the gun in my nightstand. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I stopped. Bryson was asleep next to me. Sinking back down, I pulled the blankets to my ear and moved closer. While he was here no one would harm me, I fully believed that.

"Honestly, you are so jumpy." He poked me in the side, I squirmed.
"Forgive me for having great reactive reflexes." I shot back, teasing him.
"Yeah, is that an agent thing or a mom thing?" He leaned on the silver and white marble countertops.
"Can I just claim both?" I stirred the pot of soup in front of me.
"Next you'll be claiming it's a wife thing." He chuckled.
"Maybe it is."
"Maybe you're just lucky I love you."
"No, you're lucky that I love you." He pecked me on the cheek as he hummed in agreement.
"I have to go check on the kids, they are quiet." I laughed, they only caused trouble when they were quiet. They were even loud in their sleep, both snorers. Two sets of tiny feet came pounding on the wood floors followed by tails of laughter. A taller redhead of curls zoomed past the flowing locks of caramel brown. "Can you guess which one?" Bryson said in passing.
"Your son?" I teased.
"He looks like you!" He called back to me. I smiled.

My eyes fluttered open to the bright sunlight and smell of coffee. The clock on my nightstand read 8:47. Rubbing my eyes, I rolled out of bed.

Bryson sat at the table with a large plate of food. He could always shovel in breakfast, I just picked at it and mostly drank coffee.
"Morning." He glanced up at me. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet.
"Morning." I stared at the fairly full coffee pot then looked back at him. I didn't bother to bring up why he was sleeping in my room last night. "Do you want kids?" I asked. He looked at me strangely.
"What?"
"Kids, do you want them?" His brows knit together.
"Uh, yeah, eventually? Why do you ask?" After pouring my cup, I pushed the coffee pot back on its warmer.
"I had a dream I had kids," I shrugged. "We have never talked about that before."
"Dreams or kids?"
"Kids." I sat down next to him, stealing a piece of toast from his plate. He didn't protest since this has become a fairly standard practice in our apartment. He makes himself a plate of breakfast and I steal a piece of toast and or bacon.
"Did you have kids with Sebastian?" I scrunched my nose and violently shook my head.
"No; I dreamed about him first then woke up." Bryson and I had been more honest with each other this week. It was part of the pact we made in the car at the last church venue. I told him I had dreams of Sebastian every night. Last night was the first time I had more than one dream. "I don't know who the father was." I lied. "Cute kids though."
"If they're yours, of course, they would be." We shared a sideways glance and smile.

The twins came over, uninvited by me but apparently invited by Bryson. I was grabbing an outfit to change into when Scott came into my room.
"Can I help you?" He closed the door behind him.
"Something is off about you."
"What do you mean?" I flipped through the shirts I had hung up.
"You're different, something happened. With Bryce?" I stopped to look at him.
"No, Bryce and I are fine. It's nothing."
"It's clearly not nothing if it shows on you." Scott knew me as someone who hid everything. I never leaned on other people for help, I get that from my mom. "Rene?"
"Honestly, Scott, it's nothing I wish to talk to you about. Bryce knows and that's enough." He blocked the door leading out.
"Please. I just want to know you're okay." Sighing, I took a step back to look up at him.
"It has nothing to do with you."
"Bryce?"
"No." We stood there like we were having a shootout, neither of us willing to draw our weapons. "If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone and you cannot get involved, have I made myself clear?" He stuck out his hand, we shook on it. "I went on a date about a week ago and the guy drugged me and was planning to rape me. Bryce was the one who came and got me. The guy is in jail now." The color drained from every feature of Scott's face.
"Are you okay?"
"Aside from the nightmares, yes."
"I'm so sorry." He wobbled awkwardly. I stuck out my arm inviting him to hug me like he wanted to. Quickly, he encased me in a bone-crushing embrace. Trying not to cry, I squeezed him back.

The hug lasted much longer than I had anticipated, but it was needed. I forgot how much hugs from people who care about you put you back together again. Scott left my room to go back to the living room. I looked at the outfit I had picked to change into and frowned. A loose pair of gray sweats and an old high school shirt sat on my bed with a pair of fuzzy socks. Even my outfit was sad. Throwing it all on the floor, I tried again. I grabbed a pair of jeans that made my butt look good and a t-shirt  Bryce had gotten me on one of his impulse Walmart trips. I kept the fuzzy socks.

"Jeez, you took forever," Damion complained the second I walked into the room.
"I'm sorry my absence has affected you so much. I love you too, Dummy." I ruffled his hair as I walked by.
"Nice shirt." Bryson smiled.
"Oh thanks, my roommate got it for me. Dude is weird." I laughed.
"My roommate is weird too." Scott piped up.
"You can't call Mike you're roommate, he is your dad and you live with him!" Bryson and I chuckled.
"No, Scott and I are moving out." My jaw dropped.
"No, you're not," Bryson spoke for the both of us.
"We are. Remember Sandy Pines?" He was talking to me. Sandy Pines was a run-down apartment complex on the other end of town.
"Yeah, that shit hole?" They both shrugged their shoulders.
"Rent is cheap. We sign the lease in six weeks."  Scott was drawing shapes on the carpet.
"You guys, that's great. I'm sure Mike is thrilled." I teased. Then my heart sank a little. Mike will be alone in that house when my mom is deployed, the was the downside.

We sat in the living room with the tv on as background noise was we played games. Most of the games we played with card games. They were easy to play and we didn't need much to do so.

The guys continued to play cards as I made dinner. They weren't talking except for the occasional "fuck you". We took Uno very seriously.
"Pub in a tub." We all looked at Damion who seemed to not notice. "Now that's a business idea."
"Are you sure you graduated high school?" Scott asked.
"It's slightly concerning, the things you say," I added. A long pause dragged between us.
"Honestly, I could get behind that," Bryson added. Now the attention of the room turned to him.
"Did you graduate high school?" I asked. He looked at me with a stone face.
"Yes, but hear me out." Bryson leaned forward.
"No." I stopped him. "I cannot afford to lose more brain cells than I already have."
"No, but like a bar, you swim at."
"You guys really don't see the problem?"
"It will only be like knee-deep." Damion countered.
"You need just enough water to cover the nose and mouth to drown."
"We'll get lifeguards," Bryson added.
"Oh, this is fun." Scott leaned back on his hands.
"I'm sorry, you're going to put a hot tub bar lifeguard on someone as their job title?"
"Yeah." I looked between Bryson and Damion. They were serious.
"No." I shook my head, refusing to try and understand. "Nope, no." Scott started to chuckle. "Why do I surround myself with idiots." I got up from my seat.
"You love us and would be lost without us," Damion yelled after me.
"No, I'd be smarter without you guys. The brain cells I'm losing rapidly might not be worth it." I waved them off. "I have work to do."
"No, you don't." Bryson watched me.
"I'm giving myself work to do." I stuck out my tongue before I ducked into my room.

I sat on the iPad Joe gave us and looked through our information. We knew some of the people in the scam, but not many. There was money involved, but from where? I wrote down any theory I could come up with. Some were far-fetched others were weak. My timer went off to grab the lasagna from the oven.

As usual, the guys shoveled in the food, burning their mouths. Sometimes it was like watching the discovery channel. They tossed their plates in the sink for me to clean. After I finished my plate and did not burn the shit out of my mouth, I put away the leftovers. I started to fill the sink with water.
"Don't worry about it, I'll do the dishes," Bryson called over to me.
"Will you do them before you go to sleep?"
"Yeah, I can do that." I nodded.
"Okay." I went back to my room to go over more ideas.

Without me noticing, nearly two hours had gone by. Two sets of knocks came from my door.
"Rene!" They sang.
"Come in." I tried not to laugh. That was one of the small things I missed about living with them. The way they knocked on the door and sang my name if they wanted me for something.
"We're leaving." Scott frowned slightly.
"Okay." They both crawled into my bed, sandwiching me.
"You're supposed to be sad." Damion laid his head on my shoulder.
"Yeah." Scott mirrored him.
"I'm only sad when you're here." I joked. We sat in silence for a moment. My heart pulled to go back a year and a half in time. My mom was home. We all lived together. I did everything with the twins. Sometimes I miss the past, not because it was easier, I just missed the moments we had.
"Are you going to help us move?" Damion broke the silence.
"Of course."
"Cool." Scott threw his arm across me onto Damion. Damion did the same.
"No." I tensed up, I knew what was coming.
"Squish!" They said loudly and squeezed me between them. Laughter bubbled from all three of us. I missed this too.

The twins finally left. I sat in my room, still looking over all the data.
"I thought you were doing that to avoid playing cards with us." Bryson leaned in my doorway.
"Yes and no. Yes, a little but no because this is driving me nuts. Why don't we know what's going on? Why is there so little information?" I flipped the pages in my notebook. "It just doesn't make sense. It has something to do with marriage or weddings, but what?" Bryson grabbed the iPad and notebook from me. "Bryce."
"You are going to drive yourself crazy. I know you're going through a lot, but burying yourself in work is not going to help you heal." He looked me in the eyes. His green irises were calling me.
"How can one person change your life so much?" I whispered.
"One person can always leave an impression on us, it doesn't always have to be bad. The bad just seemed to stick out more. John Swanson changed my life, but you also changed my life." I blinked a few times, processing what he said. Bryson being shot was more traumatizing, but me saving his life was more heroic. Why does the bad outweigh the good? It's like looking at black and white, you notice black over white but the white is still there. "Do you want to help me wash dishes?" He smiled. Rolling my eyes, I chuckled.
"Okay."

Bryson took the hard-hitting job of scrubbing the plates while I got to dry. I think drying is easier because I just have to wipe a plate with a rag, he has to use elbow grease.
"They're moving out," I said softly. "I'm proud of them."
"Yeah, but you're worried." Bryson poked me as he did in my dream last night.
"They are my brothers, of course, I'm worried."
"They'll be alright."
"How can you be so sure?" I stopped drying the plate to look at him.
"Well, I don't know. Really, I can't promise anything outside of this moment, but they are good people and have enough common sense between the two of them. Plus they have Mike and Sarah and us if they needed." My mind is stuck on the word "us". He used it so casually as he always had but something inside of me changed. Sighing, I uncrossed my arms.
"I know you're right. I think I'm just scared of life." Ashamed, I grabbed the rag and started to dry again.
"You're not scared of life, life is scary and you're just trying to be brave enough to face it." He commented before he slipped back into silence. Stopping again, I absorbed what he said. Bravery and fear seemed to look fairly similar in the mirror.