Thread by @justabloodygame

Later that night, as her rhubarb pie lay wrapped in foil in the fridge with all but one slice uneaten, Maggie wrestled with her nightmares.

They began, as they always did, pleasantly enough. She and Rome luxuriates in the grass behind their first home, enjoying a picnic lunch.

Rome had his strong hands wrapped around her waist, his head lay pressed against her distended stomach, her eldest, Brianna, desperate to be born. He smiled and laughed as the baby kicked inside her. It tickled Mags, to see him so happy, so excited for their family to be.

Angie lay on her belly in the grass beside them, wriggling on her belly in the sun. Tail wagging, tongue lolling, young and frisky and blissfully aware of the plans time had for her. Mags reached out to scratch her belly, and was rewarded with Angie's low, contented moan.

She sighed, Maggie did, enjoying the breeze, Rome's touch, the joy of her lab, Brianna fluttering in her belly, shifting beneath Rome's listening ear.

If only this moment could last forever.

If only....

But no. This 'only' was not to be.

But alas, as Maggie shifted beneath her light covers, the tenor of the dream changed with her. Clouds chased away the sun. The sky, darkened and heavy, pregnant with its own child, broke its water around their heads.

Time to go. She looked down at Rome to to rouse him.

Oh no.

No longer the young man he was in the sun, Rome looked up at her through half-open, filmy eyes. The arms, once powerful and muscular, trembled weakly around her torso. She could hear him wheeze, tumors on his spine and throat and lungs choking every breath.

"Mags," He wheezed, "Mags, I don't think, I... I..."

She closed her eyes at a sharp pain at her temples, rubbing them. This hurt was all too familiar. She opened them-

-Pastor Early's eulogy buzzed like a fly in her ear, the world out of focus. All her senses locked on Rome.

There he lay, stiff, so very thin. And so very still. In that wooden box, forever alone. She wanted to go to him, to hug him, lend him her strength with her embrace as he did for her so many times.

But he wasn't there anymore. That sas a body, not her Rome full of vim and life.

She blinked, and now they stood around Rome funeral plot, she bent down to stroke his cheek.

And his eyes opened. Black sclera, in their centers, bright pupils like nebulae, like a mass of stars. Rome sat up, and spoke with a thousand familiar voices.

BE WARY MAGS, AND BEWARE.

Though his arm was emaciated, his grip felt like an iron vise bit into Maggie's forearm, she gritted her teeth in pain.

"Rome? Honey, you're hurting me!"

The skin rippled on his hand, like a pond's surface after a skimming pebble.

BEWARE MAGS, BEWARE THE WATCHER IN ROBES

She woke with a start, gasping, then gingerly rubbing her wrist. She cursed Nyla, that arrogant prick. Using her husband to send messages.

Beware the watcher in robes...

She wondered what that meant.

"What have you gotten into this time, ol girl?"

No one was there to answer.