In Love with the Prince (of Darkness, That Is)

To Dreama, overnight seemed a pathetically short amount of time to decide the rest of your life. Taylor's silence on the way to his father's apartment seemed to say that he agreed with her.

She followed Mr. and Mrs. Gable to the doors of the apartment, while Taylor lingered by the taxi.

"Aren't you coming?" Dreama asked.

Taylor shook his head. "Not yet. I think I'm going to go for a walk."

Dreama bit her lip. "Can I come?"

Taylor smiled. "Of course."

Dreama padded next to him like a little puppy while they walked through the moonlit park.
"You're actually considering not doing it aren't you?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Is it worth it? The risk, I mean--is it worth another four or five years, living the way I do?"
Dreama felt a shiver pass down her spine at his words. "Taylor--"

He looked down at her and offered a fake smile. "I'm sorry. I'm just thinking out loud."

They stopped walking and Dreama wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. "Please, you can't give up like this. You have to fight."

"I don't know if I can."

Dreama could feel tears pricking her eyelids, and she closed her eyes against them. Once they were under control, she stepped back, and took a deep breath.

"Then I won't stay," she told him. "Because I can't sit back and watch you throw your life away."

"What kind of life do I have, anyway?" Taylor spat. "Hiding in my little cubby hole all day. I can't do anything with myself--I can't even have a normal relationship with anyone. What do I have to look forward to, hmm? Another few years of wallowing in self-pity until I have to do this all over again? What kind of life is that?" He stared over her shoulder. "What have I got to live for anyway?"

Dreama recoiled as though he had slapped her. "You have me," she whispered. "Or is that not enough for you?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Really? 'Cause I don't see a second way of interpreting that." Dreama shook her head and walked off. Even though a small part of her knew that he hadn't meant it, she was angry that he'd even thought it.

She was about to cross the street when a hand grabbed her wrist. She sighed and turned. "Taylor, I don't--" The words died on her lips. "Who are you?"

"How much money you got?" The man holding onto her arm had a knife in his free hand, and he was pointing it shakily at her.

"I-I don't have anything," Dreama told him, trying to pull her arm free.

"What about your watch?"

"You can have it," Dreama said frantically. "But you have to give me my hand back so I can take it off."

"You mean so you can run away. I don't think so."

"Then I can't give you my watch," she reasoned.

"Then tell me where your wallet is."

"I don't have it with me."

The knife hovered a little closer. "Don't lie to me, girl."

Tears were building on her lashes. "I swear, I don't have it."

"Let her go," a voice commanded from behind Dreama, and she felt her knees go weak.

"Taylor."

"Shut up."

The man with the knife pulled her against him and held the knife at her throat. "Take one step closer and I'll kill her."

Taylor held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa. I'm not moving. Just let her go and I'll give you whatever you want."

"How about you give me whatever I want and then I think about letting her go?"

"How about a good faith payment?" Taylor suggested. He took the watch off his wrist and held it out.

"Take it," the man told Dreama, digging the knife a little deeper into her neck. She whimpered and reached out her hand for it. Taylor's fingers brushed hers, and their eyes connected.

"What else do you want?" Taylor pleaded, not looking away.

"I want all your money, and that chain on her wrist."

"No, please," Dreama begged as Taylor began to count out the bills in his wallet. "Don't take the charm bracelet."

"Shut up, girl, we're doing business here."

"Dreama, hold out your arm," Taylor demanded, and Dreama obeyed with tears in her eyes.

He unclasped the bracelet and then stuffed his wallet in his back pocket. Then he held out the wad of cash and the bracelet. "It's two hundred bucks. That's all I have, okay? Please, just let her go."

The knife went a little deeper for a minute, until Dreama couldn't breathe, both from fear and the blade against her windpipe, and then he was gone. She stumbled forward into Taylor's arms, and he caught her with ease.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Taylor was running his hands across her neck, and he pulled his fingers away, wet with blood.

"Damn it, he cut you. Come on, baby, I'll take you home."

Dreama stumbled beside him, back up to the apartment, where he sat her on the bed and wiped the blood away with a cloth.

"He took my bracelet," Dreama whispered numbly.

Taylor pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Of course he didn't. I put it in my wallet before I put it back. He'll be too high to notice until tomorrow when he tries to sell it."

He crawled onto the bed behind her and held her in his arms, shaking almost as much as she was.

"I love you, Dray. And--and I'll do the surgery, the chemo, whatever it takes. I don't want to lose you. I love you so much."