As Julia watched him leave, she crossed her arms across her chest and wondered what had caused his appearance to change so drastically since she had seen him last.   She knew him too well to believe it was due to a simple case of a sleepless night.  Crossing to the window once again, she watched the elegant caped figure disappear down the wooded path, and a sudden calm descended upon her as she realized she had come to a decision.

She would stay.  She had to stay.  He needed her.

Collinwood 1971 – One week later

The ocean had always fascinated him – the way it created, destroyed and recreated itself in an endless cycle.  So like life; so much like his life.

Barnabas stood on the cliff watching the surf as it crashed and swirled against the rocks below him.  His dark cape billowed out around him in the gathering twilight making him resemble the night creature into which he was once able to transform himself.  His weakened condition made it more of a struggle to resist the stiff winds that blew in off the turbulent sea, but he hardly took note of this fact.  He had come to this spot since he was a boy – seeking solace from the sea in an effort to escape the rigid expectations of a stern father, to try to erase from his ears the bitter words spoken between parents.  Barnabas had been both a sensitive boy and young man and had been deeply affected by his father’s cold and harsh treatment of his family.  The stormy ocean had mirrored his own inner torment, and somehow watching the violence in nature unfold before him had always brought peace to his troubled soul.

And so it was that Barnabas Collins found himself once again drawn to the sea.  Another week had passed, and his dreams had become increasingly strange and confusing.  The details were gradually altering in each successive dream, and Barnabas spent his waking moments agonizing over the pieces of the puzzle. But the answers proved elusive, and just when his mind seemed to grasp something important, it would turn to smoke and evaporate once more.  He found himself trying to fight sleep, taking long walks, reading late into the night, but slumber would inevitably claim him.  The sleep it brought, however, was a tapestry woven of the disturbing dreams, and he would awake no more refreshed at dawn than if he had not slept at all.

He had also noticed a difference in Julia since they had spoken a week ago.  She was no longer avoiding him but had instead visited the Old House several times.  He knew that she was concerned about him - he must look quite a bit more worse for wear than he realized – and he longed to tell her the entire truth.  He had finally admitted to her that he was suffering from strange dreams, and he had seen the immediate fear that brightened her eyes when she heard this.  He understood at once that she was recalling the dream curse from several years ago and the danger that it had posed to him.  He had hastened to assure her that this situation was quite different, but to satisfy her, he had had to admit that the dreams centered on Angelique.  He had seen the pain that crossed her face upon the mention of that name.  He had deeply regretted that he had had to tell her that much and had resolved not to reveal any more to his dear friend.  He was determined to get through this on his own; surely, the dreams would fade in time.  Just a week or so ago, he had wanted desperately to hold onto them, but now he wanted nothing more than nights blanketed with dark, dreamless sleep.

He shuddered as he watched the darkness descend over Collinwood like a shroud.   Nighttime meant more dreams, and he was unsure how much more he would be able to endure.

Perhaps I should talk to Julia after all, he thought as he fought the rising panic that the deepening twilight was causing in him.   She can help me interpret them.  She will understand even if they do involve Angelique.  Julia’s always been there for me before.  She has risked so much for me and has always been the voice of reason…

Barnabas turned from the cliff with new purpose.  He would speak to Julia – tonight.  Maybe he would even have a good night’s sleep for a change.  His tight expression loosened for a moment as he felt new hope course through him.

As he started to turn toward the path to Collinwood, a shape below caught his eye.   Turning back, he noticed that the force of the waves had increased, and the surf was slapping higher against the ebony rocks.  The seaspray flew high into the air, falling back to the tide in arcs of gray and black.

Gray – and black.  Why should he be so fascinated by gray and black?  Just colors, dark colors.  And then the shapes began to coalesce into something more recognizable.  A vision appeared in the mist floating just above the inky water.  He knew immediately what it was – a scene from his dreams.  It was Angelique…standing in the drawing room of Collinwood… trying to tell him something.

“Barnabas, I…”

She was so vehement, and he strained to hear what she was saying, but her words were lost in the roar of the surf. Warm feelings for her engulfed him and swirled around her image – feelings of love and gratitude for her support, for all she had done for him over the years, for risking her life for him.  These feelings lit her in a golden glow of yellows, oranges and reds, bright vibrant colors that contrasted with the dark hues of her dress - her dress of gray and black.

Barnabas frowned.  No, not her dress of gray and black – Julia’s dress.  Julia had worn that dress, not Angelique!  Something was wrong; the dream made no sense.   He was seeing Angelique, but she was wearing the dress that Julia had worn that day in 1840 when he had been freed from his curse.

What did it all mean?

And as suddenly as the vision had appeared over the sea, it was gone.  But Barnabas was left with the images and feelings that the vision had conjured in him, and confusion overwhelmed him.  Angelique… but Julia’s dress.  An unheard sentiment… Strong feelings, feelings that urged him on – but urged him to do what?

It made no sense.  He needed answers, but he no longer knew where to turn for help.  He wanted to talk to Julia; he needed to talk to Julia.  But she was somehow involved in all of this; she was a part of the puzzle somehow.

How could he ever tell her about the dreams now?

Collinwood 1971 ~ Later that night

Julia thought that Willie Loomis looked almost as worried about Barnabas as she felt.   The agitated young man had run anxious fingers through his sandy hair so many times that it stuck up in comical peaks on his head.

“I don’t know what to tell ya, Julia,” Willie said with that slight whine in his voice.  “He don’t talk about the dreams with me.  You know how he can be when he gets real stubborn about somethin’.  He just clams up.”

“Yes, Willie, I know exactly how Barnabas can be, “ Julia agreed in a slightly sardonic tone of voice.  She turned to regard the fire that blazed deeply in the drawing room hearth.  It occurred to her that in other places, fires resulted in warm, cozy, friendly atmospheres, but at Collinwood, they could leave one as cold and lonely as a winter’s night.

“But he seems to be getting worse, Willie.  Just the change in him in one week concerns me a great deal.”

“I know what ya mean,” Willie answered, stepping closer to her.  “I don’t know how he’s even livin’, Julia. I cook for him, but he don’t eat nothin’.  And I know my cookin’s not that bad.   And he hardly sleeps at all anymore.   In fact, I think he’s been tryin’ to avoid sleepin’ altogether.”

“What do you mean, Willie?” the doctor asked, her curiosity heightened further.

“Well, he don’t go to bed until real late these days, and ya know how he’s been everytime that he’s been…normal again; he always tries to get a good night’s sleep so’s he can get up early to enjoy the daylight.  He really thrives on the daylight.  Anyhow, I’ll come in late, and he’ll be readin’ – can’t hardly keep his eyes open – but he always has to give up finally and go to bed. “  He stopped and looked down at his hands which he was nervously wringing together.  “And that’s when it starts,” he continued in a near whisper.

“When what starts?” Julia asked sharply, making Willie jump at her tone.

“It’s awful, Julia,” he said wringing his hands so tightly that his knuckles began to turn white.  “Just awful.   I can hear him moanin’ and groanin’ in his sleep.  It’s the same thing every night.”

“Can you understand anything he says, Willie?” Julia asked anxiously.  “Anything at all?”

The young man hesitated.  He didn’t want to tell Julia this part, but he knew that he had no choice.  He could tell that all of her senses were on high alert now, and she looked ready to pounce on him.  “Just…well, just one word, Julia.  He says it over and over. In the beginnin,’ he said it kinda happy-like.  But the last week or so, it sounds like he’s bein’ tortured or somethin’ when he says it.”  Willie paused again; he really did not want to tell Julia what the one word was, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him alone until he did.

The doctor closed the space between them and clamped a strong hand firmly on his forearm.   “What does he say, Willie?  Tell me!”

Willie tired to wrestle free of her vise-like grip, but she held firm.  “ He cries her name, Julia!  He cries out ‘Angelique’!”

Julia’s hand abruptly fell from Willie’s arm. Her heart sank at the mention of her adversary’s name, sank as heavily as it would have if lead weights had been chained to it.  She steadied herself by grabbing hold of one of the wingback chairs next to her.

Angelique.  Angelique again.  Barnabas had finally admitted to her that his dreams had included his dead wife, but Julia had had no way of knowing that Angelique was the main focus of the dreams.  And Willie’s description of the apparent change in Barnabas’ reactions to the dreams puzzled – and frightened- her.  If only she could be present when Barnabas had the dreams, if only she could awaken him and get a full and immediate accounting from him.  But she knew he would not allow that; he was shutting her out this time.  Julia balled her fist in frustration and slammed it into the front padding of the chair she leaned on.

Willie Loomis watched Barnabas’ good friend, the woman who had done more for his employer than any man – or vampire- could have asked for in a dozen lifetimes.   He could sense her frustration and helplessness and her mounting worry for their mutual friend.  He had to tell her the other word that he had heard.  He didn’t know how to – wasn’t at all sure he even wanted to – but he knew he had to.  Somehow, just somehow, it might help Barnabas.  And God – and Willie Loomis – knew that Barnabas Collins needed all the help he could get just now.

“There’s somethin’ else, Julia,” Willie began quietly, ducking his towhead slightly and not quite looking the redhead in the eye.  “He said one other thing last night.”

“Well, tell me, Willie!  What was it?”

“After he said her name, he said somethin’ else,” he said haltingly.  He raised his head slightly to look at her.

It took all of Julia Hoffman’s self-control not to launch herself at the man before her, not to grab and shake him and scream at him to tell her what she desperately needed to know.  She forced herself to breathe deeply, to wait to hear what Willie was having difficulty telling her.

Willie took a deep breath too before continuing, “I heard him say…’Julia’.”

The shock that reigned on the doctor’s face was quickly replaced by a look of surprise.  Willie glanced at her with wide eyes at the sound of the front door opening very slowly as if it took the person great effort to complete the task. 

Barnabas Collins carefully shut the door to his house and wearily hung his cape and cane on the rack. He headed solemnly into the drawing room, his head bent in thought.  He was startled to look up and find the anxious faces of Julia and Willie staring at him.   It was obvious from Julia’s expression that she was shocked by his appearance.  He knew that he must look tired and thin, but he was a proud man, and he straightened his back and attempted to appear normal before his old friends.   But it was difficult – he was not happy to see Julia; his confusion as the result of the vision he had seen was too great.  He knew how easily Julia could see through him and that was the last thing that he wanted at the moment.

“Oh hello, Julia.  I didn’t know you were here,” he said, stopping in the doorway to the drawing room.

Julia moved closer to him before she spoke, and he felt like she was examining him as she would something under her microscope.  “I just stopped by to see how you were, Barnabas.  Where have you been?”

“I just went for a walk,” he answered, trying to sound nonchalant. Willie and Julia exchanged glances at his words unseen by Barnabas as he stared into the fire.   “I’m afraid it has tired me so if you don’t mind, Julia, I think I’ll go up to bed,” he continued.  “Good night.”

The two friends watched with painful expressions as Barnabas slowly trudged up the stairs.

“My God, Julia, he looks worse than ever.  He looked so weak he could hardly stand up,” Willie said the moment Barnabas was out of earshot.

“I know, Willie.  He looks worse each time I see him.  This situation can’t go on.  It could kill him.    I have to help him.”

“But how can we help him if he won’t let us?  He won’t even tell us what’s really going on.”

Julia looked at Willie with the steely determination he was so accustomed to seeing on her face.  “I must be with him when he has the dreams, Willie.  I must be right by his side. Maybe he will say something in his sleep.  And when he wakes up, I’ll be right there, and he can tell me everything.”

The young man looked at her as if she had gone mad.  “Are you nuts, Julia?  He won’t let you stay by him!”

“It’s not a question of him letting me, Willie,” she said, her eyes a bright sparkling green now.  “I’m just going to do it.  He won’t even know I am here.”

“You mean you’re gonna stay here tonight with asking him or tellin’ him?”

“That’s right, Willie,” she said with the note of finality in her voice that Willie had learned long ago not to question.

~*~

Barnabas Collins stared silently out the window of his bedroom, but his mind registered none of what his eyes saw below.  He was torn.  He was exhausted and knew that if he stayed in his room, he would be asleep in moments.  But he did not want to sleep, to dream again, to thrash about and wonder what his dreams were trying to tell him.  And yet, he did want to sleep and to finally solve this puzzle that had tormented him for weeks. He felt he might go mad if he did not resolve the turmoil that ruled his nighttimes. 

But did he really want to know the secrets buried in his dreams?  Maybe he was unable to find the answers because in truth, he did not want to know what was hidden there.  Maybe he already was mad.

He turned from the window and reached for the silk dressing gown laid across the end of his bed.  He would go downstairs, perhaps read a bit.  No, he couldn’t – perhaps Julia was still down there with Willie.  He didn’t want to see her, have her probing eyes and mind plucking at him.  He was too tired to hide his anxiety, his feelings.

But in the end, the choice was taken from him. Without even realizing it, Barnabas had laid down on his bed and drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~*~

Julia sat slumped in the chair by the fireplace struggling to keep her eyes open.   She could hear Barnabas pacing in his room above her and hoped that he would not descend to find her dozing alone in his drawing room. 

Little did I know when I went to medical school how handy my training to stay awake until all hours was going to be as I went through life, she thought wryly to herself.

Human sounds in the old mansion finally ceased, and Julia listened for awhile to the symphony of creaks and groans that the house conducted when it thought it was alone.  She wearily raised her body from the chair and quietly made her way up the stairs to Barnabas’ room.  She stood for a moment with her hand on the knob listening to his soft, regular breathing.  Fatigue washed over her in a wave, and she realized that she had been up since dawn and wearing the same clothes.  She felt grimy and tired and longed to put on something soft and comfortable.  She abruptly turned and headed for *her* bedroom where she kept extra clothes for those nights that she had unexpectedly had to stay overnight at the Old House.  She found what she was looking for in the armoire and quickly donned a peach nightgown and robe.  The nightclothes were modest but feminine, and she felt comfortable sitting in Barnabas’ bedroom wearing them.

Julia slipped into Barnabas’ room and waited by the door until her eyes adjusted to the darkness.  The room was bathed in the faint glow of the palest moonlight, and she could see that he was lying atop the covers.  She silently made her way to his side and covered him with the blanket at the end of the bed.   She watched him for a moment as he appeared to be sleeping peacefully, his broad chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm.  The shadows played across his face accentuating his gauntness; Julia wanted to reach out and trace every line on his thin face.  Instead, she pulled a chair close to the bed and settled down to wait for him to begin to dream.

~*~

As it had every night for weeks, Barnabas’ dream began with him walking into the drawing room at Collinwood.  Bright sunshine bathed Angelique in a golden glow as she turned to face him.   At least, he assumed she was Angelique; the vision was blurred, and he could not make out her face.  She wore the gray and black dress that he had seen her in so often, and she moved gracefully across the room to him.  He was overwhelmed by strong feelings of love for her for all she had done for him over the years, for all she had risked on his behalf.  His Angelique…

Suddenly, his feelings began to make little sense.  Yes, Angelique had lifted his curse, and he was grateful that she had seemingly done something unselfish for once.  But she had also been the one who had been responsible for the curse in the first place and for so many of the horrors in his life for so long.  It made no sense…  

And then he could hear her speaking, starting to tell him something, something important.

“Barnabas, I…”

But her words were garbled, and he could not make them out. He drew closer to her in an effort to hear what she was saying.

“Barnabas, I care for you too much to…”

Those words, he had heard them before!  But he could not remember Angelique saying them.  It was someone else, someone…  It was important that he learn the identity of this woman; if not Angelique, who could she be?  All he knew was that he was desperately in love with her, this mystery woman.   He had to know who she was. 

Barnabas drew closer to her.  Her face was turned slightly away from him so he gently reached out to cradle her chin and turn her face to his.  To his shock, the face of the woman was blank, and he moaned in disappointment.

~*~

Julia quickly awoke from a light doze.  Barnabas had become restless and had begun to shake his head back and forth across his pillow.  She leaned closer as she heard him whisper a name.

“Angelique…”

His word pierced the doctor like a knife.  Such a beautiful name, a sound like a wind chime tinkling softly in a breeze.  How could such a sound contain so much unadulterated horror?

The man in the bed continued to toss his head from side to side and became more agitated.  He repeated the name, but this time, it was a question asked with uncertainty.

“Angelique?”

Julia was intrigued by the change in the tone of his voice.  He now sounded confused and a little frightened.

“Who are you?”  Barnabas asked anxiously.  “Please… No!” he shouted.  Julia recoiled in surprise as he suddenly lifted his head then collapsed back down upon his pillow.

~*~

The brightness in the drawing room faded into the gray and black hues of the woman’s dress.  Barnabas found himself in his bedroom at the Old House preparing for bed.  It had been a day of tremendous changes for him, and he was exhilarated and exhausted at the same time.  He turned at a sound behind him and was surprised to find Angelique watching him with a hopeful look.  Her blue silk gown accented the color of her eyes, and she truly resembled the angelic portion of her name.

She was speaking to him, obviously imploring him to do something, but he was unable to hear her words.  But he was flooded with strong emotions – surprise, guilt, anger, fear – so many emotions that he felt he might drown under the weight of them.  He could tell from the plaintive expression on her face that she wanted something from him, and she wanted it very badly.   But he also knew that it was something he could not give her.

She was so close to him that he could look into her eyes and see their past together.  First there were days of flawless blue skies spent in warm ocean waves, and nights under a sapphire and diamond sky.  And then those visions melted into endless midnight blue nights, nights spent thirsting, hunting, hunting for something warm, something to fill his veins, the hot, salty taste of blood….

He moaned as the dream changed yet again.  Now he dreamt of Julia, and he could see her standing in the sunlight.  The sun’s rays blended with her titian hair creating a halo of rustic gold behind her head.  Her wide hazel eyes shone with emotion, and he longed to tell her something.  He started to speak, but her face was suddenly obliterated as the room flashed with searing white light and heat. 

And then Julia was gone from his dreams.  He searched for her, but the place where she had stood was black and empty, so empty that he could no longer even picture what she had looked like.  And when he looked again, someone else stood in her place…

The scene changed yet another time, and Barnabas whirled to find himself back in the drawing room at Collinwood.  Once again, the woman in gray and black stood before him, telling him something over and over.

“Barnabas, I care for you too much to…”

Her head is turned away from him as she speaks.  He desperately wants to see her face, but he cannot.  He approaches her and starts to gently turn her face to his.

“Who are you?  Who are you?” he pleads.  He cradles her chin to look into her eyes as she gazes up at him.

~*~

Barnabas awoke with a start to find Julia standing over him.  He looked into her face and saw the love and concern there for him, the love and concern that had always been there even when he had abused and rejected her in the cruelest of manners.  And he knew in an instant what the dreams had meant all along.

He sat up in the bed and grabbed hold of both of her cool hands.  “Julia, it was you!  You are the woman I have been dreaming of!”

The doctor gasped as much from her surprise at Barnabas’ words as from the feel of his warm hands on hers.  She reflexively tried to pull back from him, but he held her firmly in his grip as she stared down at him with wide eyes.

“I remember now, Julia.  The conversation we had at Collinwood the day my curse was lifted.  You started to tell me something, but you stopped.  I remember as I walked through the woods, I wanted to talk to you more about it.  I thought I knew what you had started to say.  But then the next day, I could no longer remember what I wanted to speak to you about.  I was consumed by thoughts of Angelique, by feelings for her.  They were so strong that they overpowered me, almost in a physical as well as an emotional sense.  She became all that I could think about.”  Barnabas stopped to see what effect his words were having on Julia.  She continued to stare at him as she struggled to place herself back in 1840 and to recall all that had happened on the day to which he was referring.

Barnabas renewed his hold on her as he continued.  “Julia, please tell me.  What were you trying to say to me that day, that day in 1840?”

Julia finally managed to wrestle free of him and turned away, still too embarrassed by her outburst that day to explain what she had almost said to him.  She was too used to hiding her feelings from him, to protecting her heart. She knew how easy it would be to let down her guard in this bedroom filled with moonlit shadows.  Too easy now but too painful once the cold light of morning shone relentlessly on the truth.  She did not want to risk the agony of rejection yet again. 

Barnabas watched all of this silently and felt he knew the thoughts that were guiding her.  He got out of his bed and went to her, gently putting his large hands on her shoulders.

“Julia, I know now what happened to me, why I have been suffering from these dreams,” he whispered against her ear.  “My memory, my feelings were stolen from me.  No,” he amended hastily, “not stolen but buried deep inside me.   Other feelings were given to me to replace the ones that were truly mine.”

She turned to face him, and he moved his hands to grip her arms.  “What do you mean, Barnabas?”

“I can only guess, Julia. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I think Angelique somehow injected herself into my dreams.  I remember now that night in 1840.  I was overwhelmed by emotions.  I wasn’t sure how I felt or how I should feel.   Anqelique came to me – she wanted to… to reestablish our relationship as husband and wife.”

He felt Julia stiffen slightly at this admission, and he took the opportunity to stroke her arms reassuringly as he spoke.  “I turned her away, Julia,” he said and felt her relax.  “And once she had gone, I dreamt of you.  But then the room flashed with heat and light, and you were gone from my dreams.  Until now.” 

He looked down into her eyes and found them filled with both hope and fear.  “Julia, please,” he pleaded.  “Please tell me what you were trying to say in 1840 that day.”

She knew exactly what he was asking of her.  She had almost told him that day.  But she had been unable to go through with it.  How could she say it now?  How could she risk it? It would change everything; it would lay her soul bare before him.  And so she remained silent.

“Julia, please,” he asked again, his eyes full of expectation.  “Don’t you understand?  I wanted to talk to you about this again, but Angelique did something…  She stole this from us.”

She lowered her head and refused to meet his gaze.  She tried to pull away from him again, but he held tight.  “Julia, would it be easier if I said it first?   If I told you that I love you?”

She looked up at him with astonishment, her eyes filled with tears.  “Because I do, Julia.  I do love you, my darling.  Not even Angelique’s powers could keep that knowledge from me forever.   My subconscious warred within me until the truth had to break through.”

“Oh Barnabas,” was as much as the shaken doctor could manage to utter before he gathered her into his arms for a long, sweet kiss.

“Tell me now, Julia,” he murmured holding her close.  “Tell me what you started to say over 100 years ago.”

Julia felt the walls she had erected come tumbling down in a great rush. “I love you, Barnabas Collins,” she finally admitted as she looked up into his glowing face.  “You are in every beat of my heart, every breath that I take.  You are my world, Barnabas.”

“My beautiful Julia,” he said caressing her face with a light touch that quickly turned to concern.  “Julia, you are trembling.”

“Well, what do you expect when you don’t have central heat in this old tomb?”  she teased.

“I shall call tomorrow to arrange to have it installed,” he said in a low voice.

She looked at him dumbfounded.  “Call from where, Barnabas?  You don’t have a phone!”

He grinned down at her.  “I shall go to Collinwood to arrange to have electricity as well as a phone installed as soon as possible.  I know that you require the modern conveniences, my love.”

A shiver ran through her then but not from the cold this time, and Julia realized that she was no longer chilled.

“In the meantime, we shall have to think of another way to warm you, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and penetrating.  He began to place small kisses on her mouth, her neck, her throat, down to the neckline of her peach negligee.  His warm hands stroked her back and her waist, pressing her closer to him and to the fire that burned within him.  And she responded with all of the passion that had lived for him in her heart since almost the first moment she had heard his glorious voice.

There was little time for the dreams of sleep that night in the Old House.  There was only time for the dreams of two lovers to come true, only time for their dreams to finally become reality.

THE END

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