He wakes in sweat and panicked breath,
Convinced that these are more than dreams,
The thought of her in pain and scared,
A vision far too real it seems.

Alone in darkness but for her,
Still lingering within his mind,
Her presence there but out of reach,
A mystery with clues to find.

He looks around, "Am I awake?"
Still sitting in his office chair,
A folder open- staring up,
The pages scattered everywhere.

"Pull yourself together, Tom!"
Awake for sure, he looks around,
The folder closed and clearly marked,
'Tom Archer - Clients: Lost and Found'.

The storm outside is bearing down,
A city wrapped in hail and snow,
Just as the dream had been, he's sure,
"Is it tonight?" he has to know.

A map is laid out on the floor,
With markers to each past attempt,
Now only one is left to try,
Tom bears the task no ill contempt.

His gun is set- now cocked and checked,
The holster safely by his chest,
He grabs the map and all his notes,
"It's time to put this thing to rest!"

With one last glance down at his sketch,
Those deep, soft eyes and blushing cheeks,
The golden halo of long hair,
He leaves for what his heart now seeks.

The door is closed, the wind so harsh,
His skin is cold, his coat pulled tight,
The streets are clear, save for the brave,
They rush around, soon out of sight.

The shops still serve, their doorways lit,
A stray dog barks from streets away,
Some dustbins fall two buildings down,
Tom knows each move before its play.

Around the corner, down the street,
He holds the map up like a shield,
Running now- he feels so close,
Through the gates, across the field.

The snow is thick around his boots,
His soaking coat stuck to his skin,
The hill is steep, he forges on,
His head is cloudy, in a spin.

Tom knows she's here, he feels her near,
This is the place, the time is right,
A little further up this hill,
He finds the door, still bolted tight.

The cold is bitter but he's strong,
All of his strength is mustered now,
With one charge, two, he's through the door,
He wipes the frost from coat and brow.

He hears a scrape, perhaps a cry,
A staircase down to dark unknown,
Tom takes the stairs at frantic speed,
A trip, a slip, or was he thrown?

The fall is short, the pain is brief,
The world goes black and there she is,
Smiling through those stunning eyes,
Reaching out, her hands touch his.

Then he's back, she's gone again,
Just lying there amongst the dregs,
His calls for help just echo back,
He moves to stand on shaky legs.

Unsteady but with work to do,
Tom checks his coat- the gun now gone,
His papers lost, the map gone too,
He has no choice- he must go on.

Across the ground he makes his way,
Not far away, a dim light's glow,
He's closer now, a haloed door,
Tom turns the handle, takes it slow.

No sign of life, no one in sight,
No distant sounds, nothing at all,
The air is cold, his movement slow,
Quite weary of another fall.

The map had marked this as a mine,
Abandoned long ago it seems,
Tom ploughs his mind for memories,
So much of this not from his dreams.

The light is dim and the way unclear,
But doors appear at either side,
A corridor of lockers shut,
The perfect place for one to hide.

Once again he hears that cry,
Closer now, sweat on his brow,
Further still he moves along,
He knows she's here, in pain somehow.

He feels the punch before it hits,
Yet still a blow that takes him down,
They scuffle in the dirt and grime,
A boot connects hard with his crown.

Tom knows his way around a brawl,
And holds his own against the brute,
He rolls aside and lands a kick,
Then grabs him by his dusty suit.

A punch, a kick, another roll,
Tom thrusts him hard against the floor,
The foe is down and now out cold,
No pulse to feel, though not for sure.

Tom checks his pockets, finds the gun,
A rusty key, all that he's found,
"The only way is up from here!"
He makes his way back to the sound.

Trying doors and rattling locks,
Tom finds one that does not quite match,
A bolted door with bars across,
He tries the key then pulls the latch.

Sliding open, naught but black,
Metallic scent strong in the air,
A scrape, a soft and muffled moan,
He moves on silently with care.

There against the wall, it seems,
A louder scraping and that cry,
Tom makes it to the shapeless form,
He touches rope and starts to pry.

Seconds pass that feel like hours,
But at last each rope comes free,
Skin meets skin, both pull away,
Tom knows it's her- it has to be.

He reaches out, she's screaming now,
Still muffled sound though through the gag,
"I'm here to help- you must believe!"
"Just relax…" he frees the rag.

She tries to run but falls down hard,
Tom rushes over, helps her stand,
"Just take it easy, try to rest",
"You're safe with me" he holds her hand.

Calming down now, breathing hard,
"Who are you? Why am I here?"
Tom hears her voice- a dream come true,
"My name is Tom, please have no fear!"

"I've searched for weeks to get to you!"
Her breathing fast, she lashes out,
"Please let me go- I don't know you,
Just tell me what this about?"

Tom takes a breath, he has to think,
"The man who brought you here is dead,
I searched each room and found you here."
There wasn't much more to be said.

She's calmer now, her breathing soft,
"Your voice, I know it from somewhere,
Where have we met? I don't recall...
I don't know why you seem to care!"

He smiles inside- not sure of why,
"We've met so many times, it seems,
You've been with me for several days,
Albeit only in my dreams."

She reaches out towards his face,
Caresses it to find the shape,
"You are the one- I knew you'd come!
Please help me- quick, we must escape!"

They stand to leave, still holding hands,
The lights come on, he's standing there,
"YOU CANNOT TAKE HER, SHE IS MINE!
YOU BEAT ME ONCE, LET'S MAKE IT FAIR!"

Tom pulls the gun- still cocked and set,
The shot is clean, the **** precise,
"Let's get a move on, now!" he cries,
"This is no time for playing nice!"

Out they bolt, they barely breathe,
Down the now-bright corridor,
Back to the site of Tom's short fall,
They find the stairs behind a door,

Up, and up, and up they go,
On, and on, and on they run,
Finally they reach the top,
Bursting out into the sun,

They take a breath then start again,
Running downhill with no delay,
Through the field and out the gate,
Up the street and across the way,

Safe at the door marked 'Private Eye'
They dash inside and slam the door,
Tom hears a scream and turns around,
She's seen the sketch, still on the floor,

"You really knew me all the time?
I've shared the dreams you've held so long,
I thought you'd be just one more shadow,
But, now I know, we must belong."

Tom smiles and hangs his coat back up,
"I've searched my life for you, it seems,
I knew I'd find you- someday soon,
For love- they say- creates our dreams."