"George!"

His name felt ripped from Scout's lips as she reached uselessly for him. Her freezing fingers closed on nothing but thin air because he was already gone.

But he hadn't fallen. She'd been watching, and even as the nerves in her hands registered emptiness, her eyes watched, disbelieving, as he rose into the air with frightening, unreal speed. He was lifted, as if he were being sucked up some kind of invisible tube. His body turned in midair, so she could see his terrified eyes as he was whooshed off into space, his arms and legs trailing in front of him, until he was nothing but a dot in the sky, mere seconds after he'd stepped off the cliff's edge. He grew too small to see, and simply disappeared into the afternoon sky.

And Scout was standing there alone, with baby Alis sitting a few feet behind her, whimpering.

The cool air whistled around them as it rose, bringing with it the mist and moisture from the waves from below. Bandit let out a howl, and Bess and her puppies joined him in making the mournful sounds.

As if in a trance, Scout picked up the baby, holding her securely as she brushed the little bit of dirt off her legs; then she just stood, looking up in the sky where George had disappeared just minutes before.

What had just happened? It would've been easier to believe that George had jumped off the cliff to his death than that he had jumped off the cliff and had, just, flown off somewhere. Scout felt like she was going crazy, like her sanity was actually coming unhinged from reality. How could that have happened? What had happened?

Eventually the fact that Alis was quaking with cold in her arms sank into her consciousness, or she might have just stood there like a statue all night until she just succumbed to hypothermia herself.

"Oh dear god, I'm so sorry, my darling little girl," Scout murmured, turning toward the house. Bess, Harry and Hermione followed her, but Bandit turned back to the cliff after a few steps, and Scout had to command him into a heel before he'd quit the spot and come with her.

They slowly made their way to the house in the cold and wet afternoon, with Scout on autopilot, trying to shield her baby from the damp spray. They entered the lounge through the French doors, where Scout quickly built a fire and put Alis to the breast.

As usual, the first few minutes of breast feeding were kind of messy because she'd made Alis wait so long, and she had to sit very still, and let the baby take long, drinks to relieve the built up pressure. Alis, who was a pro by now, knew as well what to do, and put her little hands on her mother's body to steady herself, taking good, long pulls as she looked up at Scout unblinkingly, using her tongue to exert pressure and extract the nourishing milk.

"I love you, little baby," Scout whispered to her daughter, because she did, and because she needed to say something normal to anchor herself in the moment, in reality, to keep herself sane after what had just happened outside.

Scout sat and nursed her child and rocked back and forth a little bit, and tried to figure out what she was supposed to do now, now that the only man she'd ever loved, probably the only man who'd ever love her, certainly the only man she'd ever love, and the father of her child, had simply disappeared, literally into thin air? How was she supposed to explain this to people? Was she supposed to tell the world that the ghost of his dead wife had been haunting them for the past year, and had been slowly ramping up her activities, had killed his dog, had made attempts on her life, and had finally culminated her activities by simply taking George somewhere?

They'd lock her up.

They'd certainly take away Alis.

Scout sat her up, burped her, and switched her to the other breast. Alis latched on, and again began with nice, long drinks at the beginning, smiling and gurgling at Scout as she did.

Bandit was hovering near the French doors, looking outside. The visibility had gotten worse because of the mist, and the gate at the edge of the yard was already obscured by the swirls of fog rising off the cliffs. He looked yearningly at Scout, who shook her head.

"Sorry, buddy, I'm not letting you out."

Bandit knew the meaning of a head shake and went despondently to lie down next to the fireplace with the puppies. Bess licked him out of sympathy.

Scout began to cry, and did her best to wipe them with her free hand and not disturb Alis too much. She made herself comfortable on the couch, knowing that the baby would probably nurse herself to sleep for her nap, and feeling like she might escape into sleep for a little while, too, though she knew that this wasn't the best time for her to be sleeping.

Sure enough, in a little while Alis detached with a quiet gasp, and she felt the soft, warm exhalations of her baby's sleeping breaths on her breast. She rose and laid her down in the beautiful cradle that Sunil and Alfred had made for her, and came back and flopped down on the sofa after putting another log on the fire.

She let herself cry for a while, trying and failing to figure out what to do.

"George," she whispered to the room. "I miss you, George."

Scout fell asleep.

She woke from a deep sleep to hear the French doors rattling. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. The fire had burned down to embers, and the room was comfortably warm and nearly dark, in that way that rooms get in dreams.

Bandit was sitting next to the French doors, tail wagging madly at George, who was standing outside, turning the locked knob, trying to get in. The dream George was wearing the Star Wars shirt and ripped jeans he'd been wearing when he ran off the cliff, except that the shirt was now torn to shreds, too, and the jeans were even more ripped than before.

Dream George was looking at Scout expectantly, and gesturing at the doorknob. Scout jumped up from the couch and walked quickly to the door, unlocking it to let George in.

She reached to hug him, locking him in her arms tightly.

"Oh my god, you're cold," she said.

"It's bloody freezing outside," he said through chattering teeth. "Feels marvelous in here, though." He went to the fire and put another log on, hunkering down in front of it while trying to keep Bandit from knocking him over.

He finally got the wood going, and rose, turning to take Scout in his arms again. "I've had the strangest afternoon, darling," he murmured as he kissed her.

Scout stroked his hair back from his face. "Me too, me too," she said. "And I know this is a fucking dream, but I don't care, I'll take you, however I can get you, you know?"

He looked at her in confusion. "What are you on about?"

Just then Scout noticed the hair she was stroking. "George, what's happened to your hair?" His hair, which was dark blond, with light streaks in it, now had a thick streak of pure white, which went from his temple, all the way down to the tip. Scout thought this was a weird detail to have about someone else's hair in a dream.

Come to think of it, so were the parts about someone else's clothes being ripped to pieces.

She stood back from him so she could see him more clearly.

She reached up and pinched her own ear, viciously, hard enough to make her eyes water.

"Hold on, hold on, darling, what the fuck are you doing?" George asked with concern, grabbing her hand.

"Oh my god, am I fucking awake?" Scout whispered, looking into George's eyes.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," George said softly. "I think I might've spent the afternoon dreaming, maybe, but we're definitely both awake now." He kissed her hands. "Or maybe I was high or something? I honestly don't know what the fuck happened this afternoon, Scout." He blinked before continuing.

"The last thing I remember clearly is being in the music room. Then I think I fell asleep? I feel like I had a dream about Tessa, of all people. I remember yelling at her, that I'd die for you and Alis. She was shocked." He kissed Scout's hands again. "I can still remember the look on her face. She didn't believe me. So I told her again. I said that I would die for you. And I think she finally believed me, because in my dream she was nodding. And she was crying, Scout," he said, nodding. "She was crying. I've never seen her look like that, you know?" He shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

"Then I woke up or whatever, and I was way the hell and gone, out on the links, way up near the light house, you know? Up near the stone fence?"

Scout nodded, leaning into George's body. He put his arms around her, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head.

"So I started hoofing it back here as fast as I could. And I have no fucking clue what happened to my clothes," he said, touching his ruined shirt ruefully.

Just then Alis made a questioning sound from her cradle, letting her parents know she was awake, and they both went to her, laughing.

George picked her up, kissing her soundly.

"How's my favorite girl?" he asked.

She cooed at him as he lifted her over his head, amiably letting a long string of drool slide out of her mouth to land on his face.

"Let's go see what we can rustle up for dinner, hm?" Scout suggested, putting an arm around George.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied.

So the human family, surrounded by their canine family, vacated the lounge for the kitchen, from where clinking sounds soon began to emerge as they prepared their evening meal in the late summer evening.