Just a Dream

By: SilverLunarStar

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Tin Man.

AN: I'm blaming Licie (for bringing up that Oz was only a dream) and Calli (for being a bul- I mean, encouraging me). No, but really, this is the first thing I've been able to write and haven't absolutely loathed in over a month, so THANK YOU MY LOVES! Also, I mostly used this as a writing exercise, so I didn't go back and edit or else I'd have probably just erase it.

DG wiped the counter for the hundredth time today and stared at it intensely, as if the crumbs of food and coffee stains would give her the answers she was looking for. Truth be told, all she wanted to do was go home and continue working on her latest painting, but she still had another two hours of her shift left.

All she'd been doing for the past six months was sketch and paint, paint and sketch scenes from an interesting dream she'd had. Seven months ago, she'd woken up from a coma. Apparently, she'd been unconscious for an entire week. She'd been hit by some debris from the tornado that had hit Kansas and the doctors hadn't been sure she would wake up.

When she did awaken, it was to her mother's relieved face, tears running down her eyes. DG was confused at first and had to stay at the hospital for almost two weeks until the psychologist confirmed she was no longer a danger to herself because for four torturous days, she had thought this wasn't real or that it was all a dream created by the Wicked Witch.

PTSD, they said. After going through the trauma mother nature threw their way, it was normal. Plus, the head injury didn't help. The only way she knew this was her reality was when she saw the books. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and its sequels hadn't existed in her dream, and she knew the story back and forth. They were her absolute favourite. Still, even after she was released and came back home, it took her some time to adjust. She went back to work two weeks later, claiming she was going crazy being restricted to her room and she needed to do something.

Whatever that something was, though, it wasn't being a waitress. The only reason she didn't pack her things and run was because she knew her mom and pop were worried about her. So, as always, she took to her art. This time, instead of interpreting scenes from her beloved series, she put her dreams to canvas after canvas. There was relatively little difference, she had to admit. There had been a scarecrow without a brain, a lionman who lacked courage, and a tin man who was missing his heart. She herself had been part of the dream, playing the part of Dorothy Gale, her namesake. (Momster had also loved the books as a child and had chosen the name 'Dorothy Glinda' for her daughter.)

Her mind had twisted the story further. Instead of there being two wicked witches, there was only one, and it had possessed the heir apparent of the 'Outer Zone.' The wizard of Oz was a mystic man whom had turned into a drug addict. Toto was a man who could turn into a dog. And the good witch, a woman with lavender eyes, had been trapped by the witch and the O.Z. had suffered greatly through the Wicked Witch's reign of terror. Just like in the book, however, with the help of her three friends, DG had disposed of the witch, saved her sister, and reunited with her real family.

DG sighed as she went back into the kitchen. She threw the towel in a bin and thought about the painting that she was currently working on. It was the end of her dream. The sunset had been easy enough to draw, as had the castle and balcony. It was the people she was having a hard time with. She could remember little things about them, the good witch's eye colour, the lionman's name was Raw - the only name she recalled, the scarecrow's zipperhead, her sister's fair skin, the Prince Consort's untamed hair, and the tin man's warm embrace…

Shaking her head, she went back to the front when she heard the bell jingle. It was late and not many people stopped by, so it was either Gulch or a truck driver. DG bet it was Gulch. Well, he'd be mighty disappointed that Sandy wasn't working tonight's shift.

DG grabbed a menu and made her way to the furthest booth where the man had sat. Handing him the menu, she opened her mouth to greet him and couldn't think of anything to say when a pair of steel-blue eyes stared up at her. Her brain scrambled to identify the man, but the answer it came up with was impossible. He couldn't be her tin man.

For what felt like a century, but was really only a handful of seconds, reality finally caught up to her and she realised it was Sheriff Cain.

"So you gonna get me my coffee, darling?"