Now, on t the flash!
When we left them, Campbell had just been knocked unconscious by that bastard Penn. Will Samuel be a help or a hindrance? And what will Dallas do? Find out in this week's episode of Dallas in Wonderland II. Then don't forget to visit the other fine folk that make up the Wednesday Briefers, and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!
Dallas struggled against Samuel’s tight grip. He wanted to
get to Campbell. No, he needed to
reach him, with an urgency that was only growing greater by the moment. “You
bastard!” he screamed at Quentin’s ex-fuck. “If you hurt him...” He left the
threat hanging helplessly. He was weak, and he knew it, and Samuel made him
even weaker, God help him.
When Samuel released his hold on Dallas, he fell to the
ground beside Campbell, his fingers going automatically to his wrist. He forced
himself to still the clamorous beating of his own heart, as he waited for it...
waited for it... and there it was, faint but palpable. Campbell’s pulse.
Dallas knelt down, his lips grazing the unconscious Campbell’s
ear. “I’m here, honey, hang in there, don’t let go.” The endearment slipped out
naturally, and it felt right. He couldn’t remember ever having addressed Samuel
in such a manner. The man did not exactly invite the use of tender nicknames.
Campbell moaned and, even unconscious, turned toward Dallas,
curling about Dallas’ legs. The gesture tore at Dallas’ heart. Why couldn’t
everyone just leave them alone? He was sorry he’d ever come to Wonderland
again, sorry he’d dragged Campbell into this mess... sorry he’d ever met Dr.
Samuel Levi.
His eyes widened at that knowledge. Was it true? Was he over
Samuel? For once and for all?
He glanced at Samuel, saw the knowing smirk that graced his
lovely face, and his certainty changed into confusion once more and he groaned.
It wasn’t that simple, it just wasn’t. And Samuel knew it.
“No matter what you think you know, you are and always shall
be mine,” Samuel said softly. “And for Mr. Cain’s sake, you should become used
to the idea.”
“F-for Campbell’s sake? What do you mean? What are you saying,
Samuel?”
“You’re a smart boy, Dallas, you’ll figure it out. You know
something? Sometimes burning bridges isn’t a bad idea.” He gave Dallas a
significant look, then added, “Penn, stop drooling. You look ridiculous.”
Dallas looked up to find Penn standing over him, salivating.
It was a most disgusting sight. Dallas didn’t know which of them the idiot
found attractive, and he didn’t care—he wasn’t getting either one of them. Not
while Dallas possessed breath in his body. He placed himself protectively
between Campbell and the drooling fool standing over them.
“Interesting.” Samuel’s voice was coldly clinical and
detached. “Dallas, let me give you some advice. Don’t cry because it’s over.
Smile because it happened.”
That was about as clear as mud. Was Samuel referring to
Dallas and himself? Dallas and Quentin? Not Dallas and Campbell, for that had
never been, never happened. “You tell me I’m yours, then you tell me we’re
over? What is it you want from me, Samuel?” Dallas’ voice sounded far too thin
and hollow for his taste, as if he were shouting inside a cave but not making
himself heard. For a moment, it reminded him of when he’d shrunk to
near-nothingness and oblivion, among the grass blades of Wonderland. But a
quick check of himself, and the world around him, assured him that was not the
case. He sighed in relief and rested his head against Campbell’s chest, feeling
the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.
“You’ll only hurt him by feeding his infatuation, Dallas.”
Dallas heard Samuel’s voice drone on, but he wasn’t
listening. He was picturing himself and Campbell. They were in a boat, floating
lazily down the strawberry river, watching the world go by, wrapped in each
other’s arms. Drifting lazily, contentedly... A small smile played about his
lips, and he felt the corner of his mouth go up, then he felt a small sting on
his arm, just before he dropped into blackness.
* * * *
Dallas struggled back to consciousness, fighting to keep his
eyes open when they tried to stay shut. He forced himself into a sitting
position and tried to take stock of his situation. Some time had obviously
passed. Night had fallen, and he could see the moon, hanging in the night sky
like a beacon. Whether it was a sign of hope or a harbinger of doom he couldn’t
tell.
“Uncle Dallas, are you all right?”
Startled, Dallas turned to find himself looking into the
concerned eyes of his nephew. “Oz, what are you doing here? How did you get to
Wonderland?”
“I was worried about you, Uncle Dallas. I heard Mom talking
about you, and she said you were here.”
“She told you I was in Wonderland?” What did Paris know of
this place? Oh yeah, hadn’t he seen her here? Or had that been part of what Samuel
referred to as his delusion?
“She didn’t tell me, it was someone else.” The
eight-year-old frowned. “She doesn’t know I know how to get here, either.
Please don’t tell her I came.”
“I won’t,” Dallas promised his nephew. A sudden panic seized him. Campbell. Where was
he? He searched the damp grass almost frantically, but he wasn’t there. And
neither was Samuel. Or Penn. In fact, Dallas was no longer beside the
pond. “Did you see Campbell when you
came?”
“No. I was looking for him. I heard Mom say something about
him too. I think he’s in trouble. Do you know where he is?”
“No, but I’ll find him. Don’t worry. What kind of trouble is he in?”
“I couldn’t hear much,” Oz admitted, his fingers worrying at
the backpack in his lap. “But I think I heard her say something about the
Jabberwock. That can’t be a good thing, right? The Jabberwock is dangerous, isn’t
it?”
Dallas shivered. The Jabberwock was dangerous indeed. He’d
seen it fly off with Samuel, hadn’t he? Or had he? He needed to find Campbell.
The sooner the better. But in the
darkness, that wouldn’t be easy to do. And yet, he didn’t want to wait until morning,
either. That might be too late.
And then he heard a soft whinny.
to be continued
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