Here I am again! As usual I'm coming up with ideas faster than I can write them. This is just the most developed of my ideas and the one I like the best. Another dream theme, oh joy~ But this one doesn't include ghosts. Or maybe, but Neither Russia or America are ghosts. Another AU, too. Because as much as I love historical fics, I'm waiting to do them until I learn more. Which, as an anthrolopogy student, I'm bound to sometime. I probably have to take like a bajillion history classes.

Also: please tell me if I'm flooding the comm. I have a tendancy to write alot in a reletively short amount of time. It's how my account went from 10 to 80 stories so quick. I speed write OTL

This is the only chapter where the dreams will be in italics. This is because after this chapter, everything will be a dream. Also, Belle is Belgium.

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Have you ever heard the saying that if you die in your dreams, you die in real life? I've found that it's not entirely true. Usually before you die in a dream, you wake up. But sometimes, when the things in your nightmares turn out to be more real than you expected, you can't wake up, you can't escape, but you sure as hell can die.

Alfred Jones shot up out of bed, breath heaving and eyes wide with panic. He looked around, not knowing where he was for the first few seconds or where the giant worm that had been chasing him went. But slowly it dawned on him that he was safe in his own bedroom and it had all been just another dream. He cursed and swung his legs out from under the sheets, stumbling forward into the bathroom to start another day.

He'd been having the same dream for a week now. He'd go to sleep, wake up in some kind of forest, and from there the memories got fuzzy. But the ending was the same everytime. He'd end up being chased through the woods by some creature until he woke up feeling like he'd run a mile. Then from there his days were reltively normal. Shower, get dressed, go to school, hang with friends, go home, go to bed, and have the dream again.

He was getting sick of it, actually. Not the dreams, the monotony. In fact, the dreams were the only things he looked forward to after a long day of doing exactly what he did every other day. He knew he was destined for something greater than high school. Some big adventure that he didn't even know about yet. He could feel it. But in his dreams was the only place he ever got to live out any kind of adventure. Unless you counted keeping Francis' hands out of his pants, now that was an adventure.

He stepped out of the shower in a cloud of steam, towelling his hair off. He tried to remember what had happened that night, concentrating so hard on what little he remembered that he almost ran into his father.

"Look out where you're going, Al, you could get hurt." Matthew said, laughing softly and patting his son on the head. Matthew was a quiet man who seemed to take up much less space than he actually did. He was quite used to people running into him by now, only Alfred was usually more in tune with his surroundings than that. Not that he usually showed it. His head was always in the clouds, that one. Dreaming of the next big thing that he would do. Whether it was the time he tried to build an ornithopter in the back yard a few summers ago, or joining the football team his freshman year. But Matthew knew his son had his feet on the ground. He may dream big, but he knew he had to plan his dreams out.

But here lately, the boy had been staring off into space with a look on his face that troubled Matthew. It wasn't his planning face, his day-dream face, or even his "I'm-hungry-but-I-don't-want-to-get-up" face. Matthew wasn't sure what Alfred was thinking about, but the boy looked troubled by it. Matthew knew better than to ask, but he wished Alfred would just tell him what was wrong. Al usually told him everything, especially since what had happened to his mother.

"Sorry, dad. Wasn't really paying attention." Alfred said, grinning sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head. "Hey, you think you could give me a ride to school? I don't really wanna take the bus today." He asked, looking hopefully at his dad. How could Matthew say no to that look?

"Sure thing. Hop in the car, I'll be out in a minute." He said, tousseling his son's hair and heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and his keys. By the time he got back into the livingroom, Alfred was already out in the car waiting for him. He got in and started it up, turning to Alfred as he backed out of the driveway. "So what's up?" He asked, trying to sound like he wasn't on to him.

Alfred just shrugged and bit at his thumbnail, obviously lost in thought again. He wasn't getting anything out of the kid, that was for sure. He sighed inwardly and decided that if Alfred needed his help with anything he knew that he could come to him no matter what happened. And he would have to be okay with just that. "Just...you know I love you, Al. Remember that." He said, sending Alfred an almost pleading look.

Alfred knew his dad wanted him to tell him what was wrong, but where could he start? "Hey dad, I've been having these weird dreams..." That would sound retarded! And besides, it wasn't really a problem, persay. He was getting enough sleep, doing well in school, and the dreams weren't really effecting his personal life. They just weirded him out a bit, was all. He couldn't tell his dad about them, he had enough trouble on his plate without something stupid like this.

"Yeah dad, I love you too." He said, smiling over at his father as they stopped outside of the school. He leaned over the seat and pulled his dad into a hug before shouldering his backpack and clambouring out of the car. "Have a good day at work, dad!" He called, waving goodbye before turning on his heel an jogging into the building.

"You have a good day at school, Al!" Matthew called back. He stalled for a second in the parking lot, watching him go with a stormy look on his face. Whatever was troubling Alfred was worse than he was letting on, he could tell.

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Alfred strode into homeroom and immeditately plopped down next to Gilbert. He was the only one of his friends that had homeroom with him and he'd be damned if he was going to be stuck in some corner of the classroom all by his lonesome because someone else took the seat next to him.

"Hey, sunshine, how'd you sleep?" He asked, alluding to the dreams Alfred had been having. "Remember anything this time?" Alfred shook his head.

"No more than usual. Although this time it was a giant worm." He said, making a disgusted face. He didn't really mind worms, but there was a time and a place for everything. And a worm's place was in the garden or in a bait can. Not chasing him through his dreams. Gilbert snickered and leaned back in his desk.

"Maybe it was the worm you ate in third grade back for its revenge." He teased. Alfred felt his ears burn at the reminder.

"Hey! I was just a kid! And what about you? I seem to remember a certain Prussian albino eating a slug." He reminded him. When you'd known someone your whole life, you ended up having a lot of dirt on them.

"Yeah, for five dollars! You just ate the worm on a dare. Seriously, dude, no one would have faulted you for just saying no." He laughed.

"Yeah, well I doubt it was that particular worm. It was huge and had big razor teeth." He said, trying to change the subject. "A big gaping hole rimmed with rows and rows of razor teeth." He shuddered a bit at the memory.

"Maybe it's your subconcious fear of vagina." Gilbert snickered. Alfred scoffed and punched his arm. Alfred wasn't exactly broadcasting the fact that he wasn't interested in girls; but he wasn't exactly in the closet, either.

"Real mature, Gil. Make a gay joke. But it wasn't a vagina, it was a worm. If anything, worms are more like cocks." He told him, rolling his eyes.

"So now you're afraid of cock? Damn, dude, how are you ever going to lose that v card of yours?" Gilbert teased further, obviously not going to take the bait and change the subject. He was like a dog with a bone when it came to annoying people. He fed off of it.

"First of all, I'm not afraid of cock. Second of all, I wasn't planning on losing it. Third of all, can we talk about the dreams and not my sex life?" He asked, exasperated.

"Or lack thereof." Gilbert shot back. He always had to have the last word in. "But yeah, the dreams. You said they started a week ago?" He asked. Alfred nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah, a week ago tonight. Same scenario, different monster. I dunno what the deal is with it, you know? All I want is to know what it means. Maybe I should go to a shrink." He had contemplated visiting a psychiatrist more than once, but it seemed like alot of trouble to go through for some dumb dreams. Gilbert seemed to think about it for a minute, staring right at him like he was examining him for any little chink in his mental armor.

"You think it has something to do with what happened to your mom?" He asked, taking Alfred off guard. He stared back at him, jaw slack and eyes wide. If there was one unspoken rule in their group of friends it was that you never never brought up Alfred's mom.

Three years ago when they were Freshman, Alfred's mother had gone to sleep one night next to her husband. But something went wrong and the next morning, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't wake her up. Somehow while she was sleeping, Belle Jones had gone into a coma. For a few days the doctors watched her, doing all they could. But as days turned into weeks and then into months, each doctor slowly gave up on her. They repeatedly told Alfred and Matthew that there was nothing they could do for her and that she'd either wake up on her own or never wake up at all. Matthew and Alfred had been devestated, but both refused to give up. They picked up the pieces and went on with their lives, but a corner of their existance was always occupied by thoughts of Belle. They never stopped thinking about her, not for a second.

"Dude...if that's supposed to be a joke, it wasn't funny." He whispered, looking down at the top of the desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He still refused to give up hope that one day his mom would wake up and everything would be fine. He wasn't grieving because she wasn't dead! How many times did he have to tell everyone that!

"I wasn't joking, Al. Even if she's not dead, it can't be easy not having your mom around. I know that just about as well as anyone." Gilbert's own mother had passed when he was a small child. It was just him, his brother Luwig, and their father. Alfred knew he should be greatful that his mom was still alive, even if she was a vegetable. But in some ways, that just made it harder. "And the way you bottle it up, like everything's fine and it doesn't effect you...it's not good for you."

"Gilbert, can we please not talk about this." He begged, trying to curl in on himself. He hated talking about what happened to his mother. He could still feel the curious stares sometimes when his back was turned and every once in a while he'd hear intruiged whispers. There goes that kid. Yeah, the one whose mom went into a coma for no reason. I heard the doctors have given up hope.

"Maybe you should see that shrink after all, sunshine. You're going insane if you're being chased by a giant worm. I mean, really? They eat dirt." He scoffed, immediately doing a 180 on the subject. It was almost as if they'd turned back time to before Gilbert even mentioned his mom. But that wasn't so unusual. Gil might not be so good at the emotional stuff, and he might like annoying people, but he knew how to avoid an awkward situation. Alfred would give him that.

"I'm totally not crazy!" He cried, punching him on the shoulder.

"Sure you aren't." He rolled his eyes, grinning at his friend. Disaster successfully averted. He wouldn't have known what to do if the big oaf has started crying, anyway.

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When Alfred got home that night after football practice, all he wanted to do was shower and hit the hay. But there was one more stop to make before he got that far. Instead of going straight home, he caught a cab up to the long term care hospital on the outskirts of town. He payed the driver to wait there for him and went in. He'd been there so many times that the nurse didn't even ask him which room he was for, she already knew.

"Back so soon, Al? You've been visiting her more often lately." Nurse Erika remarked, smiling shyly at the young man. She was a pretty, shy woman in her late twenties that was always sweet to the patients and their visitors. Her brother, Vash, was the doctor in charge of the ward where his mother was kept. He was a bit less sweet, but he was nice under the brusque exterior. And he took good care of Al's mom.

"Hey, Erika! Yeah, I dunno. I just feel like if I don't come often I'll miss her waking up, you know?" He said, sheepishly. "And before you start, I know it's unlikely to happen. But I just have this feeling, you know? Like something going to happen. And it doesn't hurt to come see her. Comatose or not, she's still my mother." Erika smiled softly and nodded.

"I'm sure that wherever she is in there, if she knows you're coming to see her then she's happy to see you." She said. Alfred liked that about her. She said just the right thing so that you didn't feel like a loser, but she still didn't lie to make you feel better. He waved goodbye and passed the desk, greeting Doctor Vash on his way into his mother's room.

He closed the door softly behind him, turning towards the bed and smiling sadly. His mother lay pale and weak on the bed, short blonde hair spilling out around her on the pillow. Obviously she'd been turned recently, because no one had tucked it back behind her headband. He reached over to adjust it and smiled.

"There you go, mom. I know you hate getting your hair in your face." He told her, taking her hand and squeezing. "I had the dream again last night. Giant worm this time. Gilbert thinks that it has something to do with you, but I don't know if I believe that. Or, maybe it does and he's just wrong about why you're involved. Because I'm not giving up on you. Never, not even if three more years pass." He rasped, voice cracking as he brought her hand up to his lips. "I love you mom. Please come back. I don't know what to do without you. Dad pretends he's okay, but you can tell he's still a wreck. He's still in love with you, you know? I don't even want to think what's going to happen when I leave for college and he's all alone in that house." Alfred broke down crying, burying his face in his mother's stomach like he had when he was a small child.

He didn't know what had come over him. Usually when he came to visit his mom he would update her on how things were going, talk about a few of his projects, and say goodbye before heading home. Maybe it was the confusion over the dreams, or the talk with his dad that morning. Maybe it was the conversation with Gilbert. All he knew was that he lay there crying for a good ten minutes, clinging to his unresponsive mother for support. When he was finally done he wiped his eyes and stood up.

"It was good talking with you, mom. I'lll be back soon, I promise. I love you." He bent over and kissed her cheek, letting himself out of the hospital room quietly. He waved tiredly to the Zwingli siblings and trudged out of the hospital, climbing in the cab and riding home.

All he wanted to do now was go to sleep and forget everything in one of those weird dreams. At least they always took his mind off of his real problems.

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Alfred woke up in the forest again, surrounded by trees with no end in sight and not even a sliver of sky breaking through the canopy. It was murky and dark and a thick fog seemed to permeate the whole forest. Alfred's theory was that he was in Mirkwood, he just had no way to confirm it. He always woke up right here, lying in the middle of a pathway through the trees with no one and nothing else in sight.

He got up off of the ground and tried to decide which way to go. It never really mattered in the end, because he always came across some monster or another and that was where the dream would end. But he liked having choices, and he liked making them. So while he may go right one night, he would go left the next. One time he'd even disregarded the path altogether and gone straight into the trees. That had ended about as well as would be expected.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was making his decision a disembodied smile had appeared in the trees behind him. It was followed shortly by a huge pair of bright yellow cat eyes, but nothing else. "Oh dear. It seems to me that you might be lost, dear boy."

Alfred turned, almost jumping out of his skin when he saw the floating face. "What the hell! Don't fucking sneak up on me like that! And appear all the way, while you're at it. Thanks." He said sarcastically. "And I'm not lost, I'm dreaming. But it figures I'd dream about the fricking Cheshire cat." He grumbled. "All I have to do is pick a direction and go. I'll wake up soon enough."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that anymore, Alfred Jones." The cat said, head and tail appearing. The ghostly tail started flicking around as Chesire purred. "We have you now, and there's only one way to escape." He chuckled and turned over on his back, the rest of his body appearing.

"How do you know my name? And what do you mean, it doesn't work like that? All I have to do is go until I find a monster, get chased, and wake up." He stated.

"But my dear boy, that's exactly what I mean. You're trapped here. You can't wake up any more than you can disappear." He told him, everything but his eyes disappearing to demonstrate his point. "You see, we have a little game for you to play. You make it through the forest and we will let you go home, safe and sound, to your darling Papa." He purred, appearing in a swirl of smoke on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred narrowed his eyes and turned to the cheshire cat.

"And if I don't?" He growled. He didn't trust this cat for one minute, even if it was a dream. He had no intention of playing this game. He would do what he did every night and be back in his bed by the time morning rolled around and he woke up.

"Have you ever heard the saying that if you die in a dream, you die in real life?" He cat goaded. But Alfred jut scoffed.

"So you're saying that if I get killed by a monster, I'll die in real life. What happens if I refuse to play? If I don't die, but I don't make it to the other side?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. The cheshire care merely chuckled, disappearing piece by piece until only his toothy grin remained.

"Why don't you ask your mother?" He said, smile disappearing and disembodied laughter reverberating off of the trees. "Oh, and by the way? Let me be the first to welcome you to the dreamscape." Alfred stared at the place the cat had been in shock. His mother? What did his mom have to do with any of this? Maybe Gilbert was right and the dreams were his subconcious trying to tell him something about his mother.

He picked a path at random, no longer able to stand around where the confrontation had taken place. He strode purposefully down the left path, brow furrowed in thought and eyes hard. What was up with everyone mentioning his mom today? First Gil, then the stupid cat. He didn't need any of their stinking advice.

He was so lost in his own reveries that he almost didn't hear the scuttle of insect legs through the underbrush. But the creature stepped on a twig, the snap echoing through the silent woods like a gunshot. Alfred turned just in time to see a giant spider bearing down on him at top speeds. He ran, not even thinking about it. What was he going to do, stay and fight the thing? Besides, he would be waking up soon.

But the spider was gaining and he still hadn't woken up! He tried dodging into the trees, weaving between the trunks to lose the beast. But this was its home and it was much better aquainted with it than Alfred was. He couldn't manage to shake the thing no matter how fast he ran. He was starting to get out of breath now and he wasn't sure how much farther he could run before he gave out.

He broked through the line of trees into a clearing and raced across it, praying that the spider would stay in the cover of the forest. But he was wrong and the spider broke through only a few paces behind him. He turned to look, his heart leaping to his throat as he saw how close behind the spider was. Turning around to see ended up being the biggest mistake he could make as he stumbled and fell, skinning his palms on the sharp rocks as he went down.

As he stared up at the gaping jaws of the spider, he realised that this wasn't a dream anymore.

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What will become of our brave hero? Will he succumb to the spider or will someone save him? What does his mother have to do with the game? Who set the game up? What is the dreamscape? Tune in next time to see~