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The nightmare starts like it always does.
Phoebe, heart pounding, along with her feet against the ground as she runs toward the theater, slowly being engulfed by flames.
There are people running out, some in better shape than others, but no one that she's looking for. Where are they? Where are they why aren't they coming out, surely the screaming voices inside can't belong to them- she needs to go in there, she needs to save them, to do something-
But before she can, she's pulled back- by who or what, she can't tell- hell, it could even be what little self preservation she has left- but something keeps her in her place, on the ground, just staring at the carnage.
Then, something inside the theater ignites and explodes, taking what's left of the theater with it. Not just the theater, either, but the screaming. The voices inside just.. stop, don't even have time to die out properly, and are replaced only by the sharp, shaky cry of Phoebe's breaking heart.
She flashes back to that morning- she always does, at this point in the dream- to Ramona brushing her hair back, telling her to 'take it easy today, the band will perform without her.' She's always so gentle, even if Phoebe can tell she's upset with her. She doesn't blame her either. It had always been a problem, but she's going to fix it. She promises. Not to Mona, she's already out the door, but to herself. She needs to get better. Cut off her father and have Agate cut her off of the stuff completely- she wouldn't try and put that on anyone else- and get clean. For Mona. For Maron. For everyone.
A long while later, Phoebe finally gets up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as her head thrums from her hangover. Gods. Another reason she needs to quit. She glances over to the door, where Mona's violin is perched carefully against the frame.
Phoebe winces. Mona must've forgotten it after trying to get her up. Phoebe already feels bad enough about this whole thing, so the least she can do is give Mona her violin so she can perform today.
She picks the case up and slings it over her shoulder, making her way to the theater.
That brings her back to the beginning, usually. The dream replays her most haunting memory over and over until she's roused from her sleep.
But it's different this time. Not even visually, it's the same song and dance of Phoebe watching her loved ones die in front of her, unable to stop it, but the people inside were different.
Ariea. Dex. Arlen. Wheatley and the boys. And, again, just like before, she was completely powerless to do anything to save them, why can she never save them?
God fucking damn it, Willowwalker, you can't save anyone, can you? You can't save them, just like you couldn't save your mothers. You couldn't save Dex, or Jahlas both times, you couldn't, you could barely save Iris-
Everything stops. She's sitting with Ramona, in the same campsite they shared their very first kiss, looking up at those same stars. They're both older now. Phoebe is missing her arm, there's a ring on her finger, and yet she looks at this older version of her beloved, maybe one she'd been able to save, with one question on her mind.
"What if I could bring you back?"
It's a question Phoebe has asked herself many times, that used to play on a constant loop in her mind, was the reason she put her foot down on necromancy-
But, now it's not. She's gotten so much back from allowing people to raise the dead. Her mothers. Her brother. Jahlas, even, it... Seems a bit selfish, now, that she didn't give them another shot at life. But what if she did now? What if things could go back to the way they were, maybe even better. She'd always thought Maron and Dex would get along great, with their general enthusiasm and their specific love for the stars. Mel would probably get along well with Gibbes- maybe even his boyfriends, too- and they always needed more muscle on the ship, so Agate would be a great help.
And Phoebe would have her Mona back. Bee and Mona, together again at last. She laced her fingers with this... Idealized Ramona in front of her, just as beautiful as the day she'd lost her. She always would be beautiful, no matter what happened to her. She smiles at her, that same sweet, forgiving smile that always put Phoebe at ease, as she leans in for a kiss. The fantasy is so appealing, so just out of reach, that Phoebe can almost forget about Ariea.
... Ariea.
No, no, no. Even in her dream, in this fantastical reality where nothing bad ever happened, Phoebe couldn't betray her wife like this. Her... Fiancee, technically, but... Still. She pushes "Ramona" away and stands up, walking into the woods.
Ramona is gone. Mistakes were made, and she misses her greatly, sure, but... She has devoted herself to another woman. Another life, so it didn't matter how far apart she tore herself over it. She lost that chance at all of this the second that fire was started, the second she put her mouth to the bottle, the second she even met her father.
Ramona, and all they could have had together, is gone. Phoebe has to live with that. Just as she's lived with it all these years.
... Phoebe wants to question why all this is coming up now, but she knows exactly why. The wedding.
She's never been this committed to someone after Mona, even before her. All of her... Past girlfriends, boyfriends, flings were... Temporary. Something to fill the void left behind by Mona's death. But Ariea isn't that. She's completely swept Phoebe off her feet, being so... Charming and smart and gorgeous- just like Mona was. But also not like Mona at all. There were so many little ways you can't even compare her and Mona. Ari is in a league of her own, one might say.
And that scares Phoebe so much.
She loves Ariea, she wasn't doubting that, but... She loved Mona, too. She still does, deep down.
Would Mona be mad? Would Ari be mad? It's not like she can really stop loving either one, but... Is this a choice she can make? She isn't sure. It makes her sick to even think about, and as she spirals further and further down, things in her mind begin to melt together- Ariea and Ramona, Dex and Mel and Maron and the kids and Arlen and Agate and her father and the fire, the fire, the fire, it burns-
She sits up with a start, panting and grasping at the bedsheets. She's burning up, sweating as she looks around. She's in the Captain's Quarters, Ariea is sleeping next to her, and everything is fine. The only fire in the room is a small, flickering candlelight. Phoebe is fine. It was just a dream.
She lays back down, next to her bride-to-be, and tries to go back to sleep.
It doesn't work.
Her hair still smells like smoke.