Chapter 3: Dreamsville
Setting: 1952 Los Angeles
Summary: Kate can't remember what happened last night - but she knows it's something bad
Author: halfdutch. Story by foxxcub & halfdutch
Note: I hope no one is offended that Sun turns up here as Kate's maid. I wanted her in the fic and this seemed the best, most era-appropriate way to fit her in. File your complaints in the box below!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
The night air whipped through Kate’s hair as the Cadillac tore down the hill. Sawyer was driving, and she sat next to him, which was odd. Usually she rode in the back. He was going far too fast, and she yelled at him to stop, but he wouldn’t. She was beginning to be really afraid as the car shot recklessly around the curves.
She heard a loud popping sound. “Someone’s shooting at us!” she said, ducking.
“It’s just the tire,” he replied, seemingly unconcerned, but when he turned to look at her, she saw blood seeping across his shirt.
“You’ve been shot!” she said in horror.
“It’s not my blood,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the back seat. “It’s his.”
She looked in the back and a handsome young man with dark hair and large blue eyes that were as pretty and dead as a doll’s. His shirt was stained with blood too.
“Who is he?” she asked, feeling like she should know.
“Don’t you know, Kate?” Sawyer’s face was anguished. “You were kissing him. And then you killed him.”
Kate opened her mouth to protest, but then she looked down at her dress. It was covered in blood. “My father,” she moaned. “He can’t know. Don’t tell my father.”
“He already knows,” Sawyer said grimly. “And he’s waiting for you. I’m bringing you to him right now.”
“No!” she screamed, pulling at his arm. And that’s when Sawyer lost control of the wheel and the car crashed through the guardrail ...
Kate’s eyes flew open, her heart beating fast. Just a crazy dream, she told herself.
She sat up, only then realizing how horribly groggy she was. She must have drunk more than usual last night. Which would be quite a lot, she thought ruefully.
Her stomach churned and tiny little men worked invisible jackhammers behind her eyes. She couldn’t remember a hangover so bad since the time she’d sampled her Daddy’s liquor cabinet, taking a sip from every bottle. That was before he’d learned to keep it locked.
What had she done last night? Where had she gone? She couldn’t even remember.
Kate swung her legs off the bed and stood up but when the room started spinning like a pinwheel - complete with swirling colors and a whirring sound - she moaned and crawled back to bed.
She would give it a few more hours and then she would try it again.
Someone was shaking her awake, but she ignored them and shoved her head deeper into her pillow. “Go ‘way,” she mumbled, but the shaking didn’t stop.
“Miss Locke. Kate,” came a familiar voice.
She groaned and sat up finally. “What is it, Sun?” she said with a glare. “I’m not feeling very well.”
“I know,” her maid replied. “Drink this.”
Kate frowned as she focused on the glass in Sun’s hand. It was filled with some kind of greenish liquid. “OK,” she sighed, rather than argue with her. She’d learn to rely on all of Sun’s potions. She no idea what was in them and she didn’t want to know. She closed her eyes and swallowed the foul-tasting mixture, eying the residue at the bottom with distaste.
“It’s a good thing you’re so trustworthy, Sun. You could offer me poison and I’d take it, no questions asked,” Kate sighed.
Usually Sun would have smiled at her joke. And then she would ask Kate about her evening, and Kate would offer a vivid recap and Sun would nod along in that knowing way of hers. Sun didn’t ever lecture her about her drinking or anything else, but Kate still got the feeling that she didn’t quite approve.
Now she got that sense of disapproval again from Sun, but stronger than ever, as if she wanted to tell Kate something but was too polite.
“What?” Kate snapped. The hangover remedy hadn’t kicked in yet and she was in no mood to suffer being judged. “I’d tell you about how I got into this sorry state, but, honestly, it’s a giant blur at this point.” She sighed. “I know it’s my own fault, as usual. I really must learn to set a limit.”
Sun merely nodded, her eyes watchful.
Kate stood up and stretched, suddenly feeling better. “Wow, it’s working already. Thanks, Sun. You’re a jewel.”
She walked over to her closet to choose a dress for today. The blue satin dress she thought she’d picked out for last night was laying in the floor in a ball. Frowning, she picked it up and nearly dropped it when she saw the giant blood stain on the front.
“Sun!” she said in a stricken whisper. “What is this doing here?” Sun was at her side in a few steps, easing the dress out of her hands. Kate noticed the tear to the bodice. She looked at Sun in confusion. “What happened to me last night?”
“Sit down,” Sun said gently.
“And then Sun said Sawyer had driven me home,” Kate said as Jack listened intently. He didn’t say anything, just let her tell the story.
“I don’t remember it myself,” she continued. “Only snatches from this mixed-up dream where Sawyer was shot ...”
“That wasn’t just a dream, Kate,” Jack said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes as if she were in pain.
“Is he OK?” she asked in a faraway voice and he was surprised that she didn’t seem more shocked.
“I don’t know.” Jack’s face was grim. “He came here last night and I was able to get the bullet out. He wouldn’t tell me what had happened or who was after him. I ... we both ... fell asleep, and then when I woke up this morning, he wasn’t here.”
“I knew it. I knew something was wrong with him,” Kate said, tears forming in her eyes. “That dream ... and Sun said Sawyer seemed sick or worse. He wouldn’t come in when he dropped me off. He just drove off again, and then when he didn’t show up today, I got worried.”
“I’ve been looking for him all day,” Jack said. “He doesn’t want to be found.”
She dabbed at her eyes and then produced a newspaper from her bag. “Have you seen this?”
Jack had been too busy today searching for Sawyer to even glance at the paper on his desk, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw the headline. “Sunset Strip Shooting: Officer Killed.”
He skimmed the article, which said that an undercover cop named Boone Carlisle had been shot and killed in the back room of Lucky’s last night. Police were still searching for the shooter, and wanted to talk to the woman who had last been seen with Carlisle. The description matched Kate perfectly.
“Jack,” Kate said, her voice trembling. ”I think I was at Lucky’s last night. And that man was in my dreams, too.” She pointed at the picture of the slain officer. Her voice was so low, Jack could barely hear her. “In my dream, Sawyer said I killed him.”
Her eyes locked onto Jack’s. “Jack, maybe I did. And then it’s my fault Sawyer got shot! It’s my fault he was at the club at all, if he came to get me. God, Jack, if anything happens to him, I’ll...” and she didn’t continue, but she didn’t need to. Not with those big, green eyes beading up with tears and her lip trembling.
Jack saw how torn up she was over Sawyer and it was doing something funny to his ability to think. And he didn’t even know how he felt about Sawyer right now. All he knew was he was out there somewhere, in pain, and alone, and Jack had to find him.
He pictured Sawyer as he'd been last night, bleeding and screaming in agony, and here Jack was sitting with Kate, in the exact same spot. He didn't know which made him feel worse.
He took Kate in his arms and let her sob her heart out for Sawyer and for herself. He let her cry for him too, even if she didn’t know it.
(to be continued)