Summary: He is lost in a dream world, a world only he can enter. But what is he dreaming about?

There are days when Megan doesn't know what to do with herself. There are days when she wakes up to a grey and stormy sky, and doesn't know how to get out of bed. There are days when the reflection in the mirror only shows her all the things she has lost. There are days when she finds John in every moment of the day; every smell reminds her of John, every sentence and every word bring back memories from thousands of days ago.

There are days when his ghost is a shadow behind her, haunting yet protecting, loving and cursing her all at the same time.

There are nights when sleep is just as distant and unreachable as John. There are nights when she jerks awake, jumping out of sleep, jumping out of unconciousness, all to escape the images her dreams always manage to conjure.

This is one of those nights.

She is in bed, lying between cool, white sheets, watching Deacon's face. He is asleep, his face wearing a peaceful expression that his concious mind would never know how to make. She stares at him with a soft smile, wondering what is is with him that makes him so likeable.

A tiny noise comes out of his mouth, a mutter, a whisper, something from the world he is currently lost in. She smiles. He is talking in his sleep, something that makes him even more adorable in her eyes. He continues to speak incoherent words and sentences that she cannot quite understand.

His voice is barely audible, simply a whisper, when one word in particular manages to stand out:

"Rain," he seems to be saying. Megan is not sure. "Rain... Rain... No, rain..." he mutters before taking a deep breath and once again falling silent.

Her hand touches his cheek. She hadn't intended on waking him, but seconds later, his eyes open slowly.

"Hi," she says, smiling slightly in the darkness, watching the reflection of the moon in his eyes.

"Hey." His voice is hoarse, like sandpaper against wood.

"I'm sorry for waking you," she says, still smiling.

He grins at her. "'S all right. Trouble sleepin'?"

"I guess," she says, almost whispering. Her eyes settle on the sky outside the window, dark and big, stars twinkling like warning signs. "Some nights are just... sleepless."

He chuckles quietly, the color of slight sarcasm in his eyes, "Tell me 'bout it."

She smiles and kisses him gently, a quick peck against dry lips.

"So..." he says, making himself more comfortable where he is lying, adjusting the angle of his head against the pillow so that he can look at her more easily, "What are you thinking about?"

"John. Memories. I don't know," she says, because frankly, she doesn't. She is not sure why she cannot fall asleep; her thoughts are soft and calm. It's like her mind simply decided to stay awake without any reason in particular.

They fall silent, simply lying there for a minute.

"You were talking in your sleep," she decides to inform him, scooting closer.

He chuckles and pulls her close. "I was? Well, then, what was I sayin'?"

"Um... You were talking about rain."

He is silent for about five seconds, "Rain?"

Megan frowns slightly. "Yes. Or you were muttering a word and it sounded like you were saying something like 'rain, no, rain'." She pauses and looks up at the dark cieling, "Were you dreaming about rain?"

He hears her question but doesn't answer, as if he's not quite sure what to tell her. She can feel how surprised he is. She wonders why. The room goes from being sleepy and happy to slightly... strange.

They lay still for a few minutes, him lost, lost in his own head, but in an entirely other way than when he was asleep. This time, it's because he is thinking hard.

Megan has no idea what just happened. She ransackes her brain, trying to understand whether she said something wrong or not.

"Deacon?" she says, hesitating.

His eyes fall upon her face, wild and filled with such strong emotion that it takes her breath away.

"Yes," he whispers, face a hurricane of emotions and seriousness, "I was..." he swallows, "I was dreaming about... I dreamt that it was raining." He looks away from her face, avoiding her eyes. She doesn't know what to do.

"Deacon," she says and scoots even closer, kissing his neck softly. "What's the matter?"

She waits for an answer, listening to him breathing. And it is like he is awake and asleep at the same time, suddenly it seems as if some part of him is still left in that rainy dream world of his.

He kisses her forehead, lips dry and soft against her cool skin. He smells so... masculine.

"Nothin', darling." He manages to smile and she smiles back, slightly relieved. She suddenly gets a flashback to her nights with John and how he wasn't even half as difficult to understand as Deacon is. But at this moment in the life she is leading, she's just relieved to have found someone she genuinely likes.

"Let's get some sleep, shall we?" he says and she nods.

"Sweet dreams, Deacon." She kisses his neck, and closes her eyes.

It is not until hours later, in the earliest hours of dawn, that the truth hits Megan in the chest, like a car going in full speed.

She is staring out the window, the sky having turned grey and dull. She is still unable to fall asleep, and the rain is smattering softly against the window.

When she figures it out, she feels like yelling and crying at the same time. She feels like hitting him and hugging him in pity at the same time. She looks at his sleeping face, realizing how little she knows about the man before her.

She knows she likes him a lot. She knows he makes her feel at peace, something she hasn't felt in years. She knows he is a broken echo of a happy man. She knows he is a man with many demons, many scars, many flaws and with so, so, damn much to give, so much love inside of him.

She bites her lip.

And she knows, she knows... he hadn't really been dreaming about rain.