FicWad

A/N: This one has a definite darker feel to it, and I really liked writing it 'cause even though it's not from Keefe's point of view, it really brings out the mysterious side of him that I haven't been able to show yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Insomniatic"

Song Used: Aly and A.J.'s "Insomniatic"

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Forty-Eight: Insomniatic
Puppet: Casey Thane

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Rolled over from last night's dreams,
Happiness isn't from a -
Drink me up in your thoughts,
Just like I do with you,
Are you that thirsty too?

I shivered and brought my jacket closer in the cold, blowing wind, wishing that he was nearby so that he'd hold me close; the way he always did when I was cold. I squinted through the darkness, unable to see where exactly I was and only knowing that there were a lot of trees because of the strong scent of pine. Was I down in that little forest by Flathead?

The clattering of a horse's swift hooves on loose gravel caused my muscles to go stiff, freezing me in place. Who was coming? Where was he? He had been with me before...I could still hear him telling me he'd be right back...

“Keefe?”

All at once a tall dark horse burst from the trees and skidded to a clean stop in front of me, snorting and pawing the ground with its front hooves. I cowered away in fright, seeing the shadow of a man sitting atop the lucid animal. I called his name again, hoping that he would come and tell me I was being ridiculous. “Keefe!”

“I'm right here, Casey,” the voice, gentle and familiar, came from the man up on the horse, contrasting with the sharp feeling of mystery and the unknown, “c'mon, I want to show you something.”

Trembling still, I looked up at him, trying to see if it really was him. As if reading my mind, the black horse took a step forward, allowing a shaft of moonlight to filter through the trees and hit his face. Sure enough, a pair of well-known mahogany eyes glittered with a tiny bit of starlight, and I could see a light, amused smile on his lips.

I came a little closer, then realized that he was holding a hand out for me to take. Courage returning, I took his hand tightly in mine and jumped up onto the powerful creature's back behind him. The dark horse snorted and shifted slightly at the added weight, but Keefe leaned over and patted his neck, murmuring something soothing that I couldn't hear.

He sat up straight again and twisted about so he could look at me, a confident smile that lacked the typical arrogance commanding his face. “Hold on.”

Curiosity overwhelming my senses, I snaked my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his shoulder blade. His body was so warm, feeling so welcome after standing on my own in the cold. “Where're we going?” I couldn't help but ask.

“You'll see,” he said cryptically, clicking his tongue to the horse, “hiya!”

Then, like a whirlwind of black, we were off, galloping through the trees at a breakneck speed. Faster, faster, faster we went...running, running, running...

Whoa – oh, oh,
I am erratic,
Can't break the habit,
My current status,
To you I'm insomniatic...

Both of us have to bend forward, wind rushing through our hair as the stallion (for I could only guess it was) picked up an impossible speed. I couldn't look up ahead because the air tore at my eyes and made them water, so I buried my face in his back, trusting him to know where to go. Blood pounded in my ears and adrenaline coursed through my veins with every heartbeat, but I wasn't afraid.

No, not at all. I trusted him; trusted his knowledge of the way to go, trusted his choice of speed, trusted his strong, straight back for support.

Running, running, running...

Then it all came to a screeching halt. The dark horse half-reared and released a piercing, unearthly scream. The muscles in Keefe's shoulders tightened and surged underneath his shirt as he pulled back on his mount. “This is it, Case!” He cried with uncharacteristic excitement.

I opened my eyes. Instead of seeing whatever it was he was trying to show me, I was blinded by a flash of light.

I jumped awake, reality coming back to me piece by tiny piece. I saw the darkness of the room around me; no longer the bright light that made my eyes ache. I could smell the dusty dog fur Bandit had left on my pillow; no longer the strong, crisp scent of his clothes. I could taste the dryness of my own mouth; no longer the cold, biting air passing through my lungs. I could hear the overwhelming silence; no longer the wild scream of the wild horse. I could feel the softness of my blanket; no longer the closeness of my beau.

I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, sleepily looking around to get my bearings back. I knew I was in my room and that it wasn't as cold as it had been out in the forest, but it had to have been real, right? That horse had felt so powerful, so fluid in the way it had been running and his hand, his fingers when he helped me up...his skin had been so rough, his grip so firm. I know I had felt the taut, well-defined muscles in his stomach rise and fall with the movement of the horse while we rode.

He'd been breathing, pulsing, moving...he'd felt so alive...

It was impossible to believe that he hadn't really been there.

Bandit, who'd been sleeping peacefully at the foot of my bed, lifted his head and cocked it curiously at me. I glanced once at him, then looked over at the bright red numbers on my clock, wondering what time it was. 2:00am.

This was certainly not the first time I'd had this dream, and chances were it wasn't going to be the last. The haunting, reoccurring fantasy had visited me every night (that I managed to fall asleep, that is) for almost a month now.

My train's off the track,
It seems delirious from my loss of sleep -
Deprived, I greet the day,
Won't be easy to do,
Are you this restless too?

By the time the sun was up I had been awake for several hours already, having not been able to fall back asleep. I never got to see what it was that Keefe wanted to show me, for something always happened to us either as soon as we got there or on the way there.

It was never the same thing, either. Once, the horse reared and dumped us both on the ground, then ran off into the night. Another time, a low-hanging branch caught Keefe in the face and sent him tumbling to the ground with a howl of pain. And a different time yet, he had simply stopped and dismounted. When I followed him and asked why we'd stopped, he had said nothing; just wrapped those thick arms around my waist and kissed me, long and hard, until all was forgotten except the tingling pressure in my belly that didn't go away even after I'd woken up.

I'd never forget that one, nor the one in which a pack of wolves hounded after us, howling their blood lust to the sky. Keefe had dismounted then, too, and I remember begging him to come back up just as one of the vicious creatures burst through the undergrowth. They had fought to the death, I recalled with a shake, and Keefe had been the loser.

Though the light last night was a good sign. Up until then, everything had been black; even the aforementioned wolf's eyes. Perhaps the light had meant there was hope; hope in discovering whatever it was Keefe wanted to show me every night.

I hoped so. I was starting to feel like a nut, what with the way sleep dragged at my eyes and made me see things that weren't really there. Keefe (the real one, not the one whisking me away to some unknown place in my dreams) had noticed and expressed concern, but I didn't want to tell him about it in fear of seeming crazy.

I yawned as I scooped some of Trooper's mix into his bucket, exhausted and frustrated that I was only just beginning my day. There had to be some way to make the dream go away. I couldn't afford to lose any more sleep then I already had.

“Casey?”

I had half a mind to fling the scoop at the source of the voice that haunted me in my sleep, but quickly reminded myself that he was a separate entity. “Mornin', Keefe,” I greeted without looking at him, “I thought you were s'posed to be down in the mare's barn this time'a day.”

“I am,” he answered, his familiar hands resting heavily on my shoulders, “but I just wanted to see how you were doing. You look tired.”

'Cause I've been runnin' around with you all night, I thought wryly, or don't you know how you haunt me in my dreams?

“Tell me somethin', Keefe,” I said after waiting a moment, “do you dream?”

Whoa – oh, oh,
I am erratic,
Can't break the habit,
My current status,
To you I'm insomniatic...

He pressed the front of his body – his etched stomach and chiseled chest – to my backside before he answered and his hands, just as firm and strong as they were in my dreams, gently kneaded my tense shoulders. I wanted to relax, but I was having a hard time telling the difference between the real life Keefe O'Kane and the one my imagination regenerated for me.

“Everyone does,” he answered shortly, “have you been having nightmares again?”

I tapped my fingers against the counter anxiously, unsure of how to answer that one. A few of them, like the wolves, had turned out to be, but then there were others like the kiss...

I shuddered without meaning to just at the thought. “Not exactly.”

He turned me around without letting me go, pressing his hands firmly on my shoulders and holding me as close as he could get away with. His hungry eyes burned intensely into mine, and I was surprised to see a most tender sort of concern in them. I'd seen him worried before, but never quite on this level. “Then what's bothering you?” he implored in a stern whisper, “I've seen you lately, Case. You've been restless; wandering around at night and then falling asleep on your feet during the day...”

Those eyes twitched back and forth slightly as he studied every inch on my face, his brow furrowed in annoyance that he couldn't understand what was going on. He tilted his face upward and kissed my forehead, then rested his chin on top of my head. “I'm worried about you.”

I didn't respond much. “Promise you won't think I'm crazy?”

His grip tightened a little, as if he was afraid of losing me now that he was so close to an answer. “No crazier then I already do.” He said with a soft snort of scornful laughter.

A well-rested Casey Thane would've just laughed with him and launched into her explanation, but I was not a well-rested Casey Thane. Instead, I pulled back slightly and gave him a steady, almost glaring look. “What's that s'posed t' mean?”

Of course, my Keefe O'Kane was not one of those sissy boys who flinched away at the slightest hint of hostility. Hell, he wasn't even the type of boy who would fight with me and then apologize later. No...his hawk-like eyes hardened into tiger's eye stones. “It means that you're too tired to notice that you bitch at us for no reason.” He answered, his voice calm but with an edge to it; like the dangerous blade of a knife held warningly out to its owners' attackers.

Exhausted as I was, I didn't want to fight with him, so I accepted his brutal honesty with a bowed head. The brim of my hat brushed against his chest, and once again I found myself wondering if he was real or not.

“Well,” I started, drawing in a deep breath, “it starts out in the forest down by Flathead...”

One by one,
The days grow longer and longer,
And I, in my own sweet pain grow stronger,
I must admit, I must admit, I must admit,
It's a good insane,
I must admit, I must admit, help me admit...

In silence he listened as I recounted the basic rundown of the dream. I decided it was probably better to leave out the various endings of my dream, even though I felt guilty about leaving some of it out. All throughout the story, his face gave no hint of emotion, but when I was almost done, he started smiling in a strange way, as if he knew something I didn't.

“Let me guess,” he cut in smoothly, his voice softened by now, “when I tell you we're there, you start to look, but then there's a really bright light and you wake up before you can see what it is?”

I gaped at him, astounded that he knew that. “Y-yeah,” I stammered out, “how did you know that?”

He hesitated for just a moment before answering. “Because,” he said softly, bringing his hand up to stroke my face with his thumb, “I have those dreams every night. Is that really what's been keeping you up the whole time?”

“Hold on!” I cried, frustrated that he just seemed to pass it off like it was nothing, “Why didn't you say anything?”

He shrugged. “I didn't think it mattered.”

I pressed my lips together tersely, unsure if I was to be annoyed that he hadn't been affected the same way I had or if I was thrilled that we'd been sharing dreams for a month. Surely that meant we had a strong bond, did it not? “So then you know what it is you want to show me, right?” I asked suddenly.

He nodded. “Sure.”

I felt my heart soar with hope. He could tell me what it is and I wouldn't have to stay up all night, pacing and trying to figure it out. Now I could get some sleep! “Well?” I prodded eagerly.

He smirked impishly and paused his stroking, moving his hand up to smooth back a stray strand of hair. “I can't tell you,” he whispered, “it's a secret.”

“Keefe!” I whined, too tired to deal with his little games.

“I think you'll see it when you're ready. But until then...” he trailed off and briefly captured my lips with his, mischief dancing in his eyes, “sweet dreams.”

Whoa – oh, oh,
I am erratic,
Can't break the habit,
My current status,
To you I'm insomniatic.

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A/N: Yeah, I know the whole dream sequence seems a little suggestive and all, what with them riding on the horse. But I swear to you all that I didn't mean for it to turn out that way. It just...did...