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Story sits up in the bed, drenched in sweat. She looks over to the sleepy Dayton. His fists rubbing out the sleep in his eyes. Her breaths coming out in pants, and he finally sits up to wrap his arm around her. "Petal, what is it?"

"I had a nightmare."

"It's just a dream. Nothing can hurt you in them," he brings her face to bury in his chest. "Shh...tomorrow is the big day. I need my rest, beautiful."

"I know. I'm sorry," her eyes look around the room. This isn't the way she envisioned living with someone. It's true his house is immaculate, but it lacks character, it's too perfect and not lived in. Everything so white and shiny. Story's unsure how he's going to react to a rambunctious little boy. Kids are always so sticky.

"You need rest too. You've got to start my motor in the morning," he gives a sly chuckle, and she gives him a tiny nudge. "Sex with you before a race is a good luck charm."

"Oh, hush," Story thinks about her nightmare and how she had to choose between him and Carter. Whoever she chose, the other would die. A recurring nightmare, and no matter what was said, what had happened leading up to the choice, she always chose Carter. She can't help but think if it was Carter in the bed with her, he would be singing Beautiful Dreamer to her.

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Iris turns over in the bed to cling to James, "Hey, sweetheart what's wrong?" she continues to cry in his chest. Her hands feeling all over his body, making sure she's no longer in the dream. "That same dream again?"

"Yeah. This time, he got us, Andy. I knew from the moment I saw him he wasn't Frank, but my dream self still went with him. He tricked me, and he had mom and Pops, Jamey."

"Andy is too afraid to come back. He's been gone for twenty-five years."

"But they never found him," she whispers on him. "Blade and Curtis were working on a case against him. Jamey it was so real."

His hands soothingly rub up and down her back and she melts on him. Sinking even deeper in his warm embrace. "Why don't we talk to Blade. Or even Curtis."

"I don't remember him, but I hate him so much. What he did to mom, what he did to Pops, even what he did to dad."

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You pace around your bedroom, Ransom sound asleep in the bed. No matter the amount of time that's passed, he's still your favorite face. He's been your rock, and you love watching him sleep. Even though your body is buzzing because of that stupid dream. A dream that one of your daughters would pass away before they ever rekindled their relationship.

You know that Iris needs time. Time to process, time to deal with her identity, and even time to process what had happened to her that she doesn't even remember. The constant reminder that biologically she isn't Ransom's. Even though she knows her dad would kill and be killed for her.

His hand moves around on your side of the bed, that unconscious search for your body. When it never finds you, he sits up abruptly. Walking closer to his side, you lean over giving him a kiss. "Kitten, why aren't you in the bed?" pressing your hand against his rapidly beating heart at the prospect of you gone, he pulls it off to kiss your palm. "That stupid dream again?"

"It's not stupid to me."

"I know. If I had the dream, you would be the one comforting me. They'll talk again."

"When?"

"Soon. Iris loves Story, she's just confused. Her confusion isn't about Story, she's just projecting it to her, because she knows Story will forgive her. It's also easier for her to compartmentalize her feelings."

"When did you get so smart?" you laugh.

He gives you another kiss to your palm. "I don't know maybe the decades of therapy I've had with you. Lay down," he pulls your body onto the bed even though you protest, his hand starting to spread your thighs. "Kitten, you still warm my cock while I suck on your tits when I need comfort. Can I not just fucking put my fingers in you so you can get some sleep. I've got to go to the race with Story tomorrow."

"You're so romantic."

"Twenty-five years of being with me, I don't need to be romantic," his lips press sloppy open mouth kisses all over your face and neck. "But I will be whatever you need me to be, babe. I love you."

"Yeah, I guess you're okay," Ransom gives you a quick nibble to your neck. His body hovering over you. "I love you, Hugh Ransom Drysdale. I wouldn't want to share this life with anyone else."

"That's better Kitten."