This one is kinda small by my standards, but I had a feeling you guys would want to see it anyways. ~~~~~~~ Here’s a not-well-known fact. He hated the circus. More than doctors, dentists, or even flat soda. The clowns were the worst. They were creepy, face-painted FIENDS with no souls and no friends. He’d gone with his mom to the circus to see the elephants. Because what fucking little kid DIDN’T want to see fucking elephants? Honestly. Music trickled out in the background as he munched on his funnel cake and wandered around, trying to find a good spot to see the show. His mom was holding his hand. There were people around. But there were always people around. It was the circus. People liked going there. For some reason, eating the funnel cake was really hard. He kept remembering biting into it and chewing, but he couldn’t seem to taste anything. After a moment’s frustration, he realized he’d never bitten into it at all. “Ma—?†Suddenly, he realized he wasn’t holding his mom’s hand like he thought he was. He whirled around, eyes widened in panic. “Ma?†Had he let go without thinking? Did she tell him to stay put and he hadn’t heard her? He thought he’d heard his name, but the music and the murmurings of the crowd were too loud. “M…Ma?! Has anyone seen my ma?!†His young voice was peaked with fear. He was lost in a dark jungle of legs. He didn’t know where to go. That stupid music… WHY didn’t it shut up?! “Hello? Hello?†None of the people had faces. They should have had faces, but they didn’t. They were still talking in that low, droning murmur. He could still feel them looking at him. They didn’t have eyes, but they were looking at him. The music swirled crazy. He felt dizzily. Heart racing. Eyes darting. Racing. “Mom! MOM! Please! Somebody!†In the bathroom now. Still music. Looks into a mirror. CLOWN. He couldn’t see past the yellow eyes, white face, and red hair. Crimson lips. Him? Screamed. Stepped back. Lost his balance, and falling. Falling backwards, into the darkness, and screaming. He saw his mother now. She was on the edge screaming. For him. A hand lead her away from the edge. Alone now. Music. Dark. There was a ragged gasp as Scout’s eyes fluttered open. He panted harshly for a moment, heart pounding. He still wasn’t quite sure if it’d all been a dream or not. He was drenched in sweat, his mouth ached and tasted like shit warmed over, and he was… laying down? There was one bleary blink, then two as he tried to clear his vision. That’s when he realized the music from his dream had never actually stopped. He listened carefully, and before long, it transformed from its loopy, warped, circus-like tune into a pleasant, upbeat melody. Peering between the bars of a cage he was inexplicably in, his eyes came to rest on Engineer’s stocky form, sitting with his heels kicked up on a nearby desk, strumming his guitar, and singing in a low, husky voice. “Near a tree by a river, there's a hole in the ground, where an old man of Aran goes around and around…†the man crooned softly, stroking the instrument with an odd tenderness. “And his mind is a beacon in the veil of the night; for a strange kind of fashion, there's a wrong and a right. But he'll never, never fight over you…†There was a pause as Engineer’s eyes flickered up to Scout’s face. A grin. “Oh, man. Can’t tell ya how glad I am t’see ya awake. You had me worried, there.†~~~~~~~ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DcfXVL0mh0 Okay, I kinda went against the unspoken rule and featured a song not around in the 60s. But, balls, I wanted to do this song anyway. If I have to cheat and say that Engineer wrote it, so be it. I'm not a... guitar person, so I wouldn't know if it would be possible to make an acoustic version of the song, but I wouldn't doubt it. Ah well. I loved the dream sequence (welcome to every nightmare I've ever had ever), but not the stuff afterwards too much. It's hard writing someone waking up. Especially since I hardly ever remember waking up, myself. But, yeah. Enough ranting. Hope you guys enjoy.