The Dreaming

By Fire

Jake McCartey watched his partner Sara walk through the police station, his eyes automatically going to the silver and red bracelet on her right wrist. Everyone thought that she was strange, some even called her a witch. She got out of impossible situations, not only alive but most of the time with the suspect or suspects dead, when there should have been no way that she should have live through it. She solved cases that everyone else had deemed unsolvable.

Jake caught her staring off into space, sometimes for hours at a time, unconsciously rubbing the bracelet that adorned her wrist. If you looked close enough you would swear that it glowed at her touch. He thought that he heard her mutter, "damn Witchblade" more than once, while a scowl furrowed her brow.

Then there was Kenneth Irons, a billionaire that had taken a sudden interest in Sara several months prior. This was one of the richest men in the world and he was almost obsessed with her and her activities. Jake could recall the grimace whenever Irons called her, but she always seemed to rush off right after he called.

But all this didn't bother Jake; none of the strange and unusual things that went on bothered him in the least. He had been having dreams for years, strangely real dreams. In some, he was standing in the shadows while a woman poured a strange metal into a cast. Watching the metal flow forward, one would almost think that it was alive, that it had a mind of its own. After it had hardened he saw the same woman set a brilliant red stone in its center, then gentle kiss the stone. In others, he is on a battlefield, riding into battle beside a woman in gleaming armor with a gauntlet shining in the sun.

The dreams are always so real. So real in fact, that he could hear the sound of horse hooves pounding on the hard earth. Feel the sun beating down on his face, and smell the blood that was staining the ground red; but worst of all he could hear the screams and moans of those wounded and dying on the battlefield. He always woke up hearing the tormented voices still ringing in his ears.

Jake had seen many eras and places in his dreams, each just as real as the last. He had always thought that the women in the dreams were different people, but upon closer inspection, they all had the same face, subtle differences but still the same face: Sara�s face. If the dreams had started after he had met Sara then he could just chalk it up to infatuation, but the truth was that they had started long before he had even heard her name.

Everyone thought that he was just a rookie cop, wet behind the ears and watching his partners every move to gain insight on how to be a good cop. He already knew how to be a good cop; hell, he wasn't even really a cop, he was an FBI agent on loan to the Department of Justice. It was ironic when he really thought about it, he had always thought that was just what they were, dreams. Then he had walked into work one day and there walking through the throng of cops was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen, he froze in his tracks, he couldn't breath, he couldn't move. Everything that he had forced himself to believe was shattered in one instant. Here was his dreams come to life, and in that instant, he knew that he could never leave her.

Since then he had made himself pay more attention to his dreams, look and listen more closely, learn from what they were trying to tell him. Now that he did, small little details were coming to him, he was seeing the color of her eyes through the battle helmet, he could sense her emotions when he stood by her side. The emotions were the hardest to deal with, in every dream he had, Sara�s feelings had hit him like a torrent. He knew that he was her protector and that he was the guardian of the blade.

In every lifetime that had been his entire reason for existing, he had been there when it was created. He had watched the first bearer lay on the ground dying in a pool of her own blood, he had watched Joan of Arc burning at the stake, he had watched as Cleopatra captivated thousands. Each bearer was beautiful beyond imagination, stronger that anyone living on Earth at that time. But through it all Sara�s emotions had remained the same, she loved him, she cherished him. In one dream, the only one in which he had died first he died in her arms, as the light faded from his eyes he saw the anguish in hers. He felt her lips press to his in a gentle kiss of goodbye. The last thing he heard before he died, was her screaming for him not to leave her and professing her love.

Jake pushed all those thoughts out of his mind when he saw her getting closer to him; he put his cocky smile back in place and leaned against the doorframe at the entrance of their office.

"Hey, Pez." He greeted holding out a cup of steaming coffee. She took it and smiled.

"Hey, Partner." She walked into the office with him close behind, and as she buried her nose in a case file, Jake sat down in his chair right across the desk from hers. He propped his feet on the cluttered desk and laced his fingers behind his head.

He couldn't tell her now; soon, but not yet. Until then he would go on playing his role as the rookie cop, watching her from afar, protecting her as much as he could without her knowing about it. He knew that no matter what, this was his destiny, and you can't change destiny. He had loved her for a thousand life times and would love her for a thousand more. The Witchblade had chosen him as its guardian and its wielder�s protector, of that he was certain. He had loved her since before he was born, she was his reason for living, she was his destiny.

The End

This story ©copyright Fire, August 31, 2001