The link is only in the original post inside an image, not as text, so here it is as plain text: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
and the paper about how it works: https://arxiv.org/abs/2302.04222
A bit of a TLDR for some questions I saw in the notes:
The team that created Glaze is from the University of Chicago. Their names are each listed in full on the Glaze download website. (This group of students/professors did this for their SPRING BREAK 😱 so go give them some love lol)
It is free to download. No, they won’t ask for or raise money from/for this project.(stated by one of the lead professors of the project).
Glaze is designed to protect artists’ STYLE--which a bunch of ai people have been deliberately fine-tuning their models to mimic (and specifically of current living artists--small or big).
It currently does not protect against composition/trace-like theft (as seen when run through img-to-img) but that would be protected by copyright anyway while STYLE is not.
The University Team has stated that they are dedicated to continuing to improve the tool, like fixing bugs (like overheating older computers by taking up lots of energy when Glazing--it currently runs on CPU so they’re trying to change that to GPU, I believe) and expanding the type of protection given to artists (like working against img-to-img theft).
It currently only works directly on your computer (phones not advised due to current overheating issue, no tablets, or iPads, and no website runthrough since that would be insecure to breaches/scraping/hacks)
It currently works best on painterly artwork, but can still be used on other forms (team is working on improving this)
IT WORKS BY calculating the changes each image needs for the best protection against style theft by AI, and adds tiny changes throughout the piece, so that your style will, for example, confuse the ai into seeing van gogh. But the ai thieves will see a regular image in your style, feeding it into their model labeled as your work (thus starting the “data poisoning”).
Do not post the original unGlazed piece of your artwork after posting your Glazed version (obviously)
The Team worked directly with over 1,000 artists that were being impacted by the ai theft. Because the team listened to those artists, Glaze accounts for regular art thieves too (i.e. Glaze can’t be removed/cropped etc. like signatures or watermarks when reposted. It’s just part of the image, so even if it ends up on another site and scraped, the Glazing is still in effect)
When you run your artwork through Glaze, no information is sent back to the Team. (Aka, no scraping on their part. The app receives information from the Team (like updates) but no information from you is given to them through the app. Basically Team servers ---> You and NOT Team servers <--->You) One-way data street.
Brief misunderstanding happened over an open-source license for the front-end part of the app. (Used open-source coding for front-end, not knowing that code’s use-license states it is only for other open-source uses, not closed-source (the back-end code of the app is private to prevent counter-counter measure developments)). The Team took down the app until they replaced the front-end code with code written from scratch by the team. They are now not in violation of that open-source license since they are no longer using it. (you have 30 days to remedy a license breach once informed; they did so in 2)
The Team is currently in touch with Japanese artists to better expand the tool for use to protect their art styles
From what I understand of it, Glaze is an AI tool designed to be anti-AI (Think Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 2: one Terminator robot vs. all the other Terminators 😂)
You can download it from their website and also contact them through email there with any questions, problems, or bugs. The website: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
While this song makes me merry,
Tyrian purple dyes many a hue
From magenta to berry
And a true purple too.
But fun as it is to watch this poetic race
The answer is staring you right in the face:
Roses are red and violets are blue
Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple.
Chapter 17: Musings of the Past and Dreams of the Future
TW: smut (hickeys, oral, fingering, penetration, slight orgasm denial if you squint), hinting at Calliope's assault (nothing the show doesn't depict so nothing graphic), slight moments of nervousness and a second of jealousy, Calliope is a sweetheart and I love her, fluff, and canon to the show cliffhanger (Lucifer & Azazel hinting at war, nothing too major)
Planning a wedding with a Dream Lord should have been a simple thing, but as I was quickly learning Morpheus had a tendency to overcomplicate practically everything. It had only been two months since he proposed, but I had assumed since he could create anything he wanted the planning would be a short thing. In hindsight I was absolutely foolish thinking Dream would be anything but dramatic about the whole thing. As I was laying in the bed, watching him look over about a hundred different fabric squares I couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. Dream turned his head and looked at me with a raised brow and a tiny smile. “Something amusing, my love?”
“You.” I giggled again. “A being capable of creating anything he can imagine, fussing over fabric squares.”
He turned to me, a glint in his eyes. “I refuse to allow either of us to stand before the whole of our realm in human fabrics. Besides, I am not fussing, I need to compare the colors.”
I looked back at the fabrics, all the same shades of gray. “They’re the same color.”
“I forget you have human eyes,” he said with a chuckle as he pulled me in front of him and put his hands on my shoulders. “Allow me to show you what my eyes see.”
The gray squares shifted to beautiful shades of color my mind could hardly comprehend, magnificent blues and purples and blacks as deep and endless as the night sky. “Oh! I see why you’re taking your time now.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck before replying with his usual dry sarcasm, “Such a relief to hear you acknowledge my struggle.”
“I still think you’re fussing,” I said, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Perhaps, but I want things to be perfect.” Dream looked back down at the fabrics. “I want you to have everything you could possibly wish for.”
“All I want is you,” I assured him, turning to press myself into his chest. “And I have that, so everything is already perfect.”
Dream pulled my chin up and dipped his head down to kiss me, slow and soft and filled with the all too familiar intensity that was Dream. His thoughts filled my mind, filthy and unfiltered as his hands squeezed my hips. Lust flowed through him into me, sending goosebumps all along my skin as I pulled back, gasping for air. We weren’t parted for long, as Dream lifted a hand to the back of my head letting me catch my breath for only a few seconds before pulling my lips back to his and moving forward to trap me against the table. His mouth opened my own, tangling our tongues together as his hands moved again, pulling me up onto the desk still covered in fabric squares.
“Morpheus,” I whined when his mouth shifted down the column of my neck. His chilled fingers pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders and closed his mouth around one with a soft hum.
“My lady?” he asked, pressing kisses into my skin. “Is there something you wish of me?”
I groaned, tugging tightly at his dark hair. “I wish for you to hurry up and fuck me!”
He chuckled, the coldness of his breath drawing a gasp from my throat. “You’re so impatient today, my love.”
“Not impatient,” I insisted, resisting the urge to rip my own shirt open for him as his fingers danced along the hem of it. “I just want to feel my skin on yours.”
“You will,” He assured me with a kiss on my chest. “In a moment.”
I groaned and tugged at his hair harder. “Do you always have to be such a tease?”
“Yes.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I whined as he sucked into my neck.
Dream practically covered every inch of my neck and shoulders in hickeys before finally tossing my shirt over my head and ripping my pants down my legs and throwing them behind him. With one large, cold hand, he pressed me back into the desk and bent over me, swirling his tongue around my nipple, pinching the other between his fingers and pulling both until I was archin up into him. “Morpheus!”
He kissed down my chest, mumbling adoration and praise into my skin as he sank lower and lower, pulling my legs around his shoulders and dragging me through the mess of fabrics down to the edge of the desk so he could sink his teeth into my thigh, biting and sucking for a moment before moving to the other side. My hands fisted in his clothes and hair, pulling desperately as I pleaded with him to move where I needed his mouth the most. When his chilled breath finally did fan across my core a shiver of anticipation ran up my spine. “Oh my god, please, just touch me!”
With a chuckle he pressed a kiss to my pelvis, his starry eyes flashing up to mine. “Are you truly that desperate for me, my love?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, I am.”
He smirked. “Then I shall be merciful, and give you what you wish.”
The sensation of his tongue finally separating my folds and brushing teasingly along my clit was nearly too much. My head hit the back of the desk as I gasped and moaned beneath him, pushing my hips up into his mouth until his hand pinned my hip down and he slid a finger, then two, deep into my aching cunt. “God, Morpheus! Please!”
His skilled tongue and fingers worked me to my peak with expertise and precision before stopping all movement together and pulling away from me. I whined, hands scrambling to fist in his clothes as he stood up. The clothes vanished beneath my hands and the luxurious feel of his soft skin, pressing into mine as he bent over me to press a kiss to my lips, tore a moan from my throat. “I want to feel you,” he whispered against my lips.
With one long stroke his cock was buried in me as his teeth tugged at my bottom lip and his hands roamed down my body, stroking and squeezing until they gripped my hips tightly and pulled me impossibly closer to him. God the things this man was capable of were sinful. My fingers dug into his arms as he pulled back to look down and watch as his cock disappeared inside me with each of his powerful thrusts.
“Morpheus,” I mewled as the pleasure building in my gut became too much. “I’m… I… Ah…”
“Not yet,” he told me, moving a hand to cup my jaw. “Hold it just a little longer.”
My whole chest ached as I tried to keep my release at bay, his fingers rolled over my clit, sending an even stronger jolt of pleasure straight to the already too tight coil. My nails dragged down skin. “Please! Morpheus!”
He leaned over me, kissing and biting for a moment longer before he finally whispered, “Come with me.”
My body heeded the command before my mind could even register his words, the coil bursting and the pulsing of my cunt bringing him with me. He kissed me gently, breath slightly unsteady as we lay perfectly still against each other. As I caught my breath, the warm desk beneath me biting into my skin, Dream hummed softly, reaching down to hold a fabric square up against my skin. “This one is perfect.”
I shook my head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
He moved me to the bed, pulling me into his bare chest with a kiss. “So you’ve said.”
His fingers traced the scar down the side of my throat, gentle eyes staring at the slightly raised skin as he did. Morpheus regretted that I'd had to endure so much pain, gain so many new scars in the time I was away from him battling the demon. Though he'd never outright said it, he felt responsible, and though time had passed since then I knew a sliver of that still lingered in him. His eyes would always stare just a little longer at the scars, his kisses to them would always be softer with unintelligible mummers into the skin.
"Are you nervous?” I asked him quietly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the room.
“No,” he frowned a bit. “Why would I be?”
I shrugged. “I mean it’s a big change. I just don't want to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
He chuckled. “How could I ever not be comfortable with having you as my wife?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, and it doesn’t matter,” he assured me. “I could go on for decades telling you how much I love you, telling you how much I want you to be my queen at last. I could show you again, if you’d like the shortened demonstration.”
I kissed him softly, “I would love a demonstration, but ater, I’ve got a lunch date to get to.”
He hummed, pressing his lips against my skin. “Give Constantine my best.”
Having lunch with Johanna had turned into a weekly occurrence after I returned to the apartment and filled her in on all the insanity that had been happening since she last saw me on the bridge. Both of us were glad to make time for each other, though I loved every minute of The Dreaming it was nice to have time dedicated to the simpler human things that only the Waking World and Johanna could offer. Gossip being something she excelled at, though it was mostly gossip at my expense these days.
“I still think the whole thing is absolutely mental,” Johanna said as she finished the last of her food.
“Getting married is hardly something I’d call mental, Jo.”
She rolled her eyes and swallowed. “Not that you twat! Getting married is the kind of normal shit everyone does, but no one gets married to an Endless!”
The conversation had been typical for Johanna, the cynic with a mind of steel. It wasn't surprising that she found the whole topic of marriage weird, but it was surprising that she thought the Endless were so off limits given the history we already knew of them and their numerous lovers. “Dream was married before you know.”
“To some goddess, that doesn’t count!” She insisted, taking a drink. “Besides, that went tits up so obviously he wasn’t very good at it.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” another voice… one all too familiar chimed in with a giggle. My head turned to the sound to find Desire smiling at me widely. “Hello again, Petal.”
Johanna sat up straighter, always ready to start a fight. “You know this prick Pen?”
Desire’s gold eyes flashed to Johanna. “Ooohhh! Such a spitfire of a friend you have.”
“Unfortunately I do,” I answered Johanna. “One of Dreams' siblings. The most unlikable one.”
“Another fucking Endless?” She stood up and grabbed her coat. “Fuck me I’m not getting paid for this shit.”
She gave me a one armed hug, her eyes quietly asking the question that kept her wound tight. “I’ll be fine, go.”
Johanna nodded. “Alright, don’t be a stranger, Barlow.”
“I won’t be,” I assured her, watching her leave before turning back to Desire, who’d taken her seat across from me. “What do you want?”
“Touchy!” They cried. “Did our last night out truly leave such a bad taste in your mouth?”
I grit my teeth and leaned back into my seat. “You have five minutes to tell me what the fuck you want.”
Their cheshire grin returned as they set their feet up on the table. “I came to congratulate you of course! I was rather surprised when I’d heard my darling big brother had popped the question! Usually he does it much sooner.”
“Thanks.” I said dryly.
They chuckled, the gold in their eyes flaring. “Come now, don’t be so sour! I gave you a night of unrestricted fun, it’s not like I strangled a beloved pet.”
My ears rang as my heart quickened in my chest. “A night of fun?” My fingers curled around their red thread and pulled it tightly, watching where it hung loosely off their next pull taut against their throat, not hard enough to strangle them, just enough to make it hard to breathe. “You manipulated me into getting drunk and fucked up on drugs. You took the form of the man I loved to trick me into making out with you and then you let me run out knowing damn well I wasn’t in the right mind to be going anywhere… knowing damn well that Dream was on his way for me.” All I could hear was their mild, struggling breaths. All I could see was their smile grow. “I ended up almost jumping off a bridge just to get rid of the helpless feeling your game caused. Does that sound like fun to you?”
Desire’s smile faltered, the gold in their eyes cooling to a simmer as they regarded me with what? Pity? I pulled the thread harder and walked around the table to them. “Whatever chance at being friends we had is long gone. I’m not like you or your siblings, not bound by some stupid law, so the next time you’re bored and feel like fucking with me or mine again I’d remember this moment. One more fucked up game and I will come for you, and not even Destiny would be able to stop me from killing you.”
I let the thread fall from my hand and straightened up, watching Desire catch their breath. “I underestimated you, Petal.”
“Most people do.”
They looked up at me with a smile, smaller than their usual one. “My brother will disappoint you, just like he did with all the others.”
“You don’t know anything about him.” I sighed. “You think you know him because you have a few dinners with him every hundred years or so, but you have no fucking idea what he’s really like. And I can tell you now, he is far better than you could ever hope to be.”
They looked at me carefully. “What did he do to deserve such a loyal little pet I wonder?”
“Goodbye, Desire.” I pulled my jacket on and turned to leave. “If you know what’s good for yourself you’ll stay far away from me and Dream. He might be willing to dish out warnings with you again, but I’m not.”
***
Spending time with Rose and Lyta helped take the edge off Desires' sudden and unwelcome appearance. I was happy to see Lyta looking well rested, since we'd come to her the first time she still fought sleep, so much so she and Dream had a month long fight over it, but whatever it was that ended it - my scolding or Roses promises of safety - since then she'd started looking healthy again and appearing more awake in conversations. It was comforting to know she'd started trusting us.
Daniel was growing quickly, now nearly walking. The raven plushie, Jessamy, was his favorite thing, one he took everywhere and Lyta said he refused to sleep without. In quiet moments watching the boy sleep I couldn't help but remember her. She would have been so happy to be a part of the insanity life had turned into. Jess would have been just as bad as Dream in picking fabrics and shiny jewelry and fussing over my hair. I missed her, but the pain I'd once felt at thinking of what could have been was gone, replaced by a loving fond feeling. Matthew tapped on the window until Rose let him in.
"What's a bird got to do around here to get a tiny door?" He asked, hopping onto the table. Lyta was always mildly disturbed when Matthew talked, but she was starting to get used to it.
"A bird door?" Rose asked with a giggle. "I don't think there is such a thing."
Matthew huffed. "There should be. It'd make my life a lot easier I'll tell you that!"
I handed him a piece of food. "I'll see what we can do, Smokey."
Lyta rocked Daniel in her large chair, reading him a story with soft smiles and funny voices. Though she had come off as cold when we first met every moment like this I could see glimpses of who she truly was. Her thread was also helpful in that regard. It was mostly purple, lighter than Luciennes but not quite as light as Dreams, with hues of yellow and brown. The threads were framed in places, most likely symbols of the loss she'd suffered, but the threads and Lyta were strong and wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. Her threads connected to Daniel's, a bond similar to Dream and I but different. I loved looking at Daniels threads, currently a messy myriad of colors loose and flowing, weaving together and shifting in color each day he grew.
Now that Dream and I were engaged, that vision I saw in the gold thread felt more certain. I hadn't told him about it, not because I didn't want to, but because I still felt scared. Destiny had made it clear that when it came to me very little was truly certain. Fate Weavers change things constantly, and I didn't want to get Dreams hopes up just to find out things had changed. So, I kept my little secret, hoping with every long look at Lyta and Daniel and every glance at Pierre's statue and the bridge that the gold thread had given me more than the scarred skin on my arm.
Matthew stood beside me, watching the mother and her child. "I'm glad things worked out for them."
"Me too," I replied softly. "I can't imagine how bad it would've been if things went differently."
"Neither can I," he answered. "They deserve some peace."
I smiled at him. "You're a good person, Matthew. I know you didn't think so while you were alive, but I just want you to know that you are. I'm glad we met."
Matthew cawed, pressing his head into my arm. "Thanks… I'm glad we met too. My life would be hell dealing with the boss without you, Penny."
"I have no doubt!" I laughed.
That night Dream sat with his back against the headboard, book in one hand, the other lazily stroking up and down my arm as I laid against him. Finally being able to let all our worries fade away as we lounged together in bed was something I'd missed. Unlike before where the residual frustrations and Dream's jealousy had made this kind of thing near impossible, now there was nothing but the steady stream of contentment, love and a peaked curiosity from Dream as he read his book. "What are you reading tonight?"
"Rose's new novel," he answered with a hum. "Lucienne told me of its appearance in the library a while ago, but I hadn't had the time to read it until now."
"How is it?"
"It is… Interesting."
I looked up at him with a grin. "Are you upset over your depiction, my lord?"
He scoffed, eyes sliding away from his book to shine down at me. "No. I shall perhaps just need to speak with Rose and refresh her memory of the true events."
"I loved it," I said. "My favorite part is when the terrifying Nightmare King goes full Rumpelstiltskin demanding the firstborn child!"
He nudged my shoulder. "I hardly demanded her baby."
"I know, I know, but it's still pretty funny." I settled comfortably back against his chest, letting the calm sink into me. This was what I wanted, calm nights curled into the mildly disgruntled Dream Lord, and soon that wish would be forever.
A voice curled in the air, melodic and beautiful but unbearably sad. “I call to you Oneiros, that you may hear me and come to my aid when I say your name out loud.”
Morpheus was stiff beside me as the voice faded with the fleeting smell of smoke and heat. “What was that?”
“A call for help.” His brows furrowed.
I looked back at him, studying his confusion and the disbelief that coiled inside him alongside an old pain. “From who?”
His eyes were distant, reliving whatever memories the voice brought back to him. “My ex wife, Calliope.”
Oh. I didn’t know everything that happened between them, but from the memories he’d show me of their family… from the knowledge of what happened to his son it was safe to assume that this was something he never expected. “What kind of trouble is she in?”
“I do not know. We’ve not spoken since…” His jaw tightened. “We have not spoken in a very long time.”
It didn’t take much thought to pick up on what he didn’t say. They hadn’t spoken since the death of their son. “You’re going to go to her, right?”
His attention returned to me with a stiff nod. “Of course. If she’s calling me it must be her only option.” With a pause his hand brushed against mine. “Would you come with me?”
“Come with you?” I repeated, stunned. “Like to see your ex wife… a muse…”
“Yes.”
I’d considered saying no. The whole situation was sure to be awkward beyond belief and Calliope the Greek Muse of epic poetry was sure to be far more beautiful and lovely than me. What Morpheus and I had was secure. We trusted one another and loved one another without reservation, but… Still I found myself nervous to see them together. It was the look, the gentle sparkle in Dreams' eyes that made me nod my head with a modest smile. “I’ll come with you, if you want me to.”
“I do.” He answered quickly.
I sat up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll get ready to go.”
***
The room was dark, moonlight casting the red walls in a soft glow that did little to ease the crushing weight of pain and hopelessness that swirled in the room. Dream stood in front of me, stiff and silent as the air grew thick with tension.
“You came.” A woman stood beside the window, the silky white dress she wore was cast in heavenly moonlight as she turned her head with a plain disbelief on her face. She was so beautiful, so graceful even trapped here in the cage this Richard Madoc had locked her in.
Dream took a half step forward. “You called.”
“They told me you had been imprisoned, just like me,” she said, moving closer toward him. Her eyes never left his face and an awkward feeling settled in my chest. She hadn’t seen me, didn't know that I’d come with him. This was going to be awkward.
“Not like you,” Dream said, his voice strained with pain. “My suffering was nothing compared to yours.”
“Don’t say that. Comparing our suffering only compounds it. It pained me to hear of your misfortune. I’m glad that you are free.” Her eyes finally slid to mine. Fuck here we go. I thought anxiously. Calliope smiled at me, bowing her head. “I heard of the fair Lady of The Dreaming as well, but the rumors do not do you justice.”
I was frozen for a moment, surprised at her kind tone and gentle nature. “Oh, uh, thank you. I’ve heard a lot about you as well… though I don’t know exactly how reliable myths and legends are when it comes to things like this.”
She laughed softly, the sound was heavenly. “Yes, I suppose it would be rather difficult to sift through the centuries of such things. It is a pleasure to meet you, though the circumstances are not ideal.”
“I am sorry you have been a prisoner for so long,” I said.
Dream’s nervousness, his lingering pain lessened as he addressed her again, “You are bound here by the laws.”
“I know that you cannot free me.”
“I’m not bound by the laws you two are, maybe I could do something?” I asked, looking up at Dream. “Maybe there's some kind of universal loophole?
Calliope smiled softly. “I’m afraid there is not. The law that binds me is old and strong.”
I hummed softly, moving through the space to study the plethora of gifts and trinkets that lay scattered about the small desk. Dream spoke to her, offering up little in way of ideas, as I moved things around a bit noisier than anticipated.
"What are you doing?" Dream asked with a sigh.
I continued rifling through the desk of shitty gifts and shrugged. "Getting to know this asshole."
"And these trinkets will tell you what you wish to know?"
"Objects tell quite the story, Dream. Especially for humans." I held up the sparkling pink bottle. "Like this perfume. Expensive and exotic. It says he finds adventure and far off places alluring. But the scent tells me the most. Dark and rich, ambitious scents that don't mesh with the woman to whom it was gifted. This says it wasn't gifted earnestly but rather to prove something."
I gestured to the dress hanging off the back of a chair. "That dress, though beautiful and glamorous, isn't exactly what I'd assume a muse would want."
Holding up the necklace I turned and looked back at Dream. "Do I even need to explain how atrocious this one is?"
"Your point?" He asked with a quirked brow.
"All this stuff is for him, not her. He bought it all based on his own interests and tastes with no thought to whom it was for. And thus it all speaks to his character. Selfish and absorbed with flaunting his influence rather than forming meaningful connections. It's why he's a poor writer. One so focused on the outward image of things cannot be inspired enough to create something that holds the depth and emotion that the art of the written word provides. In simple terms and absolute dick."
"I could have deduced as much," he muttered.
Tossing the necklace to the pile I turned to Calliope, who'd been watching us closely, and held out the small box to her. "Figured you'd appreciate an actual gift for a change."
"You brought a gift?" Dream inquired.
"You said we were coming to meet Calliope, the Greek Muse and your ex wife, of course I brought a gift."
She smiled a little and opened the lid. "You did not need to-"
I felt a wave of absolute nausea wash over me. What if it was too small? Too simple? She was a muse for fucks sake and I'd given her a pebble! She lifted the glittering chain of the necklace and held the small marble in her hands. "It's a piece of marble from Greece. I figured we couldn't just steal you away to your home so I'd bring a piece of it with us to bring you some hope while we get things worked out."
Calliope looked up at me with the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. "This is a very beautiful gift, my lady."
"Penelope, please," I corrected. "It was the least I could do after all you've suffered."
Dream placed a hand on my shoulder. "Consider it our promise to see your freedom returned to you."
I looked up at him and whispered a sarcastic, "Don't try to piggyback my gift, Dream."
A look passed over her face, sorrow and something else, as she looked at the locked door. “I know you do not hold the power to free me, only he can do that, but perhaps you might… inspire him to let me go?”
“I will do all that… and more.” I recognized that tone, the dark and consuming anger echoing through my chest as I watched the two of them.
Calliope sighed. “Dream-”
“He must be punished.”
“How? What punishment could be enough?” She demanded, voice quivering. “Even his death would not bring back what he has taken from me. He’s nothing. He’s just a man.”
Dream’s anger only grew, engulfing the space in shadows. “I cannot allow him to go free.”
“Why?” Because I was once yours?”
“Because he hurt you.” He drew in a deep breath as his eyes filled with glistening repressed tears. His anger ebbed, the painful echoes of their past flowing through him like a river of ice. “The last time I saw you, you said you would never speak to me again.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I… I did not know where else to turn.”
“You misunderstand me. When I heard you call to me, even after all this time… I was relieved… hopeful…” He cut himself off. “Let us help you. Please. I owe you that much.”
“What will you do to him?”
The darkness in Morpheus’ eyes was enough for me and Calliope. The King of Nightmares I’d gotten mere glimpses of over the last few months was going to make this writer pay for what he’d done. There was no doubt about that.
***
The next day when Richard Madoc returned home Dream was waiting. He sat at his desk, back straight and hands in his lap. The mortal was nothing special, not in looks or in talent… something he lacked entirely with or without Calliope’s aid. Their eyes met just as he pulled the bag from his shoulder. “What the f… Who the fuck are you? Get out of my house.”
“Be quiet.” The volume of his voice was low, soft almost, but the power that resonated within it was enough, not only to still the tongue of Richard Maddoc but to send a wave of dread through his body. “You’re keeping a woman here against her will. I’ve come to request that you set her free.”
The mortal man scoffed, his body moving into a forced casual position. “Are you out of your mind? There’s no woman here. I’m calling the police. Do you know who I am?”
Dream nearly chuckled at the gall the mortal had. Penelope’s assessment of him had been completely correct. He was self important and held his fragile ego above anything of true meaning. “I know precisely who and what you are, Richard Madoc.”
“Are you going to call the police?” He took great pleasure in watching the mortals' jaw clench, the casual position quickly turning into one of fear. His throat bobbed as Dream's silence swallowed him.
“No, I will not call any human agency. Just let her go.”
The mortal shook his head, fear nearly spilling from his eyes. “You don’t understand. I need her. If I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t be able to write, I wouldn’t have ideas. Look, I-I have money!”
Money? The insult fed Dreams' anger and his disgust. This mortal deserved no kindness, no mercy. “Hold your tongue.” He stood from the chair, slowly, deliberately dragging the movement out to prolong the fear in Richard Madocs eyes. “She has been held captive for more than sixty years. Demeaned, abused, defiled. And you will not set her free because you need ideas? Well… If it’s ideas you want, then you shall have them in abundance.”
Dream could think of no better punishment as he returned to The Dreaming and waited. Penelope was already asleep when he slid into bed beside her, pulling her warm body into his and pressing his face into her hair. The feel of her skin, soft and warm beneath his hands was the only thing that quieted the rage that consumed him. She fidgeted against him, rolling over and sleepily looking at him as she curled into his chest. Dream closed his eyes when he felt her lips press a gentle kiss to his jaw. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” he answered quietly, his arms tightening around her. “Go back to sleep, my love.”
Sleepily she replied, “Did you finish it?”
“Not yet, but it won’t be long now.”
He listened to the sound of her heart, forcing his mind to focus on the feel of it in his chest as she drifted back to sleep. Seeing Calliope again brought a lot of pain to the surface, pain he’d buried long ago content to never face it again. Knowing what she’d endured alone… Having experienced something similar himself… He pressed his head to Penelopes. Having the one he loved most in this world experience it as well made him want to resurrect the hatred and anger he’d relied on those long years in his glass cage. It would have been easier, far more satisfying to defy the wishes of his ex wife and give Richard Madoc the fate he truly deserved. But, as he held his soul bound, his love, soon to be his wife, he reminded himself of what she would advise him.
Penelope had always been more kind and merciful than he could understand. Even when she faced Elias and The Bull she’d granted them a relatively swift end. She could have demanded Elias be strapped onto that table and torn apart by one of his nightmares. In Dream's mind it was no less than he deserved after everything he’d done. She could have forced The Bull to endure days, weeks of prolonged pain and suffering if she truly wanted. She could have told him to infect their dreams and thoughts until it drove them to madness and yet she never did. Anger is a consuming thing, she’d once told him. The longer you hold it the more it takes from you.
With the words of his lady echoing in his mind, Dream embraced the foul feeling. He held it inside him for a moment longer before letting it go. His whole body felt lighter as the rage and pain flowed out of him and disappeared into the night. There was still a lot of pain that needed to be felt, much grief he’d long held at bay, but for the first time in a long while Dream felt peace settle over him.
***
I'd gone to sit with Calliope while Dream followed Richard to whatever lecture bullshit he was milking for his stupid book. It was a little awkward, but Calliope was kind and inquisitive. She asked me about myself, simple questions with simple answers at first until she almost shyly asked, "You were a captive once too?"
"Yes, I was." I said it softly, but the answer wasn't filled with as much pain as before.
"To the same man that Oneiros was ensnared by?"
"For a time."
She tilted her head sadly. "Did he give you those scars?"
I looked down at my collarbone, touching the slightly faded lines. "Yeah, a few of them."
"I am sorry," she replied, reaching out and holding my hand. "I cannot imagine the pain you have been through."
"I can't imagine the pain you've been through either." I squeezed her hand. "I am sorry we didn't come for you sooner."
She smiled, shaking her head. "Do not be. You are here now, willing to help, and that is all that matters."
Calliope was far more than any myth or legend could depict. She was kind and beautiful and had a voice as soft and lovely as windchimes or light rain. She was perfect. For one moment I felt a tiny ember of jealousy burn in me. She had been Dream's wife once, and had loved him as I did… Perhaps she still loved him. I was afraid for a second, afraid that he'd remember how much he loved her and want to reconcile those feelings, but it didn't last long.
"You are good for him," she said softly. "I don't think I've ever seen Oneiros so… Present."
"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.
Calliope laughed softly. "He is a being of great responsibilities and he has always put his duty first. I knew this about him long before we married, but it still made things… Difficult between us at times. But you, you have his devotion in a way I did not think him capable of."
I was certain I was blushing as I shrugged. "I don't really have a reference to go off of, so I'll have to take your word for it."
"He would give you anything you asked for," she continued. "And I am glad that he has finally found the person that could bring him inspiration."
"Dream is a being of inspiration, he hardly needs me for that."
"On the contrary!" She said with a smile. "He needs you more than you know."
Calliope seemed sad, not in a way that felt like she hated me, but in a way that felt like she longed for such a connection. "I'm sorry about how things ended between you two."
Her eyes went wide. "He told you of what happened?"
"Some of it," I said. "He feels guilty about not treating you the way you deserved. He… He regrets a lot of what happened."
"As do I." She sighed. "I blamed him for our son's death. It was cruel to do so, knowing how much he loved Orpheus… If he will allow me, I wish to mend the hurt my words caused."
"He's still stubborn," I answered. "But I think he'll come around to the idea."
"Thank you, Penelope."
"For what?"
"For being so kind," she smiled. "I hope one day we may be able to call one another friend."
I returned the smile. "I would like that."
Dream returned shortly after the sun had completely set, though he didn’t need to say anything for Calliope to know what had happened. A young woman came and unlocked the door, looking around the now empty room with confusion. I watched from the darkness as she picked up the book Calliope had left on the floor and turned to leave the house. Dream and Calliope stood in Richard Madocs living room, the simple gown she’d worn turned into a long flowy dress that looked far more like what she was supposed to be. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant crown of curls as she watched the front door close. From the stairs I could see Dream standing off to the side, watching her with a look of relief.
“It is over.” She said, voice hoarse with suppressed tears. She turned to Dream. “Thank you.”
I walked down the stairs and looked around the living room, picking up a few rare antiques and quietly stuffing them in my pockets. This asshole doesn’t deserve nice things. “I merely answered your call. What will you do now?”
“I think what I must do is to try to make sure that this never happens to anyone else ever again,” she said, moving around the space almost nervously.
“How?”
“I do not know. By inspiring humanity to want better for themselves and each other. By rewriting the laws by which I was held. Laws that were written long ago and which my sisters and I had no say in.”
Dream nodded. “I shall do the same in my realm.”
“If you ever need a cosmic loophole, don’t hesitate to call,” I said, offering her a smile. “It’s a useful talent to have among beings bound by laws.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” Her eyes returned to Dream, who’d looked away from her to give me that look, the one that sent waves of his adoration through me. “You have changed, Oneiros. In the old days, you would have left me here to rot without turning a hair.”
I could feel Dreams' sorrow and regret grow as he looked at Calliope. Her head was cast down as she held back the pain I could only imagine she felt. “Do you still hate me… for leaving you? For blaming you for what happened?”
“No.” His voice was soft, mournful. “I’ve learned much in recent times, and… No matter. I do not hate you.”
Calliope nodded, her thoughts drifting away for a moment before she spoke again, “I think you should release the mortal now. He has set me free. And without forgiveness wounds will never heal.”
“You would forgive him for what he’s done?” Dream asked, curious more than upset.
“I will not forgive what he has done, but I must forgive the man. Not for him. For me. Will you free him?”
He nodded. “If that is what you wish it shall be done.”
The three of us walked towards the door, where Dream held his arm out and stopped me. “Put them back.”
“What?” I asked, desperately trying to hide the weight of the antiques in my pockets.
“We are not thieves,” he said with a hint of a smile. “Put them back.”
I groaned and pulled them out of my pockets, setting them on the table by the door with grumbling words. “Fine. Let’s just let the asshole have all the good antiques.” I opened my arms wide, showing him I’d emptied my pockets. “Happy now, Dream Lord?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Asshole,” I grumbled, opening the door and looking up at the dark clouds that filled the sky. “Looks like it’s going to rain.” I turned back to Calliope and offered her my umbrella, one I’d pulled from thin air with glee. “Here.”
She wrapped her fingers around it with a smile. “Will you not need it?”
I smiled wider. “I’d never miss out on the rain.”
“Thank you, Penelope.” She said softly. “For everything.”
“It wasn’t a problem, I’m just glad we could help.” I looked up at Dream and brushed my hand against his. “I’ll be outside, you two have a bit to talk about.”
“You do not have to-”
Tilting my head I gave him a look and cut him off. “I’ll just be outside, I promise I won’t poof.”
He nodded. “Very well. Do not wander.”
“I know, I know,” I teased as I left the building, stepping out into the chilled night air.
***
Dream watched Penelope descend the stairs for a moment before he glanced back at Calliope, who smiled at him. “It is odd, seeing you so content.”
“Yes,” he said with a breath. “It still doesn’t feel entirely real.”
“May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime?” She asked, looking away from him. “So that we may finally talk about our son… and grieve him properly?”
Orpheus… It was a wound he’d not touched, not even after mending the broken trust between him and Penelope. The loss of his son… the pain that came with it, was something he was not yet ready to face. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever be ready. “One day, perhaps, but…”
Calliope knew what he felt. She always seemed to, not in the same way Penelope did, but in one that came from past experience perhaps. With a quick nod and a quiet breath she spoke, “I understand.”
They moved closer to the door, looking out into the night as Penelope hummed quietly to herself. She smiled. “She is beautiful and kind. I am glad you two have found each other.”
“As am I,” he admitted.
“Thank you, Oneiros. I will not forget this.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and with a soft sigh she pressed her forehead to his cheek. “Fare you well. Fortune be with you.”
“Goodbye, Calliope,” he said as she pulled away and offered him a smile. The love he’d felt for her all those years ago still lingered, it always would, but now he’d hoped it could be used to mend their bitter hatred of one another and return the companion she had been to him. A friend.
She left the house first, descending the stairs and placing a hand on Penelope’s shoulder, offering his love one last goodbye. He turned to the small table of trinkets and sighed, picking the one he knew Penelope had wanted more than the rest before leaving the Madoc home and closing the door behind him.
***
Calliope walked down the sidewalk, breathing in the fresh air with a light and hopeful joy. When the rain began to fall she smiled, chuckling to herself as she opened her umbrella and looked back to where Oneiros and Penelope stood. A part of her still loved him, but seeing him so happy with another didn’t hurt like she thought it would. She watched him pull the tiny figure out of his coat and offer it to Penelope with a smile, a smile she’d never seen from him before. “Fare the well, Lord and Lady of The Dreaming.”
***
Dream pulled the small cat figurine out of his coat and offered it to me with a wordless smile. I eagerly plucked it from his fingers and looked up at him with a grin. “I thought we weren’t thieves?”
“We are not, but I could tell how badly you wanted this one.”
I tucked myself into his chest and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.” The rain picked up as we stood beside each other. I held my hand out to him, taking a step back. “Will you dance with me, Dream Lord?”
He shook his head, but took my hand and spun me into his arms again, moving with me through the rain covered street. “I would deny you nothing, my love.”
***
“Is it normal to feel this sick?” I asked as Death finished clipping my necklace on. Delirium ran her fingers through my hair, trying out various styles trying to find one she liked best.
She laughed, wild and free. “Sick is never a good thing to feel, but this is a good kind of sick… Isn’t it?”
I looked at her through the mirror. “I don’t know, that's why I asked.”
Her mismatched eyes met mine. “Well figure it out! Hurry! If you have to throw up we need to make sure we keep it away from your dress!” She giggled. “It would be silly to walk down the aisle in a ruined dress. But if you did ruin it then we could rip it and throw stuff on it!”
“Maybe later…” I said, trying not to encourage her impulsive thoughts, even if throwing stuff did sound fun.
Death shushed us both and cupped my cheeks. “You two are too much together.”
“Too much is bad, until you need more than much. Then too much is a good thing. So, we’re good. No, bad.” Delirium looked up as a swirl of fish swam past her eyes. “Good.”
“You’re just having wedding jitters,” Death assured me. “Tons of humans get them. It’s nothing to be worried about.”
I nodded. “You’re right. Totally right. It just feels… weird.”
She laughed softly. “Don’t worry, everything is taken care of. And unlike in traditional human weddings nothing can go wrong because, well, Dream controls the entire thing.”
A soft knock at the door sent both Death and Delirium running to stop it from opening all the way. Delirium laughed and relaxed instantly as they pulled Destiny inside. “Whew! We thought you were bad luck!”
He regarded the two with a nod. “I am here to speak with our new sister.”
Death crossed her arms over her chest. “No business today, brother.”
“No,” he agreed. “That would hardly be appropriate for such an occasion.”
“Good,” she said, turning towards me with a smile. “I’ll see you down there. I’ve got to go find Dream and make sure he’s not being an idiot.”
I laughed. “Give him my best.”
Delirium hugged me tightly and played with the butterflies that landed in my hair. “Don’t walk too fast! Or too slow! You have to move just right or your feet won’t go where they’re supposed to.”
“Thanks, De,” I said softly. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on my feet.”
Destiny closed the door behind them and turned to me with a blank expression. “You look lovely, Penelope.”
“Thanks Des.” I stood up and smoothed my nervous hands over the fine fabric of my wedding dress. It was truly a work of art, made by Cain and Abel with the help of Mervyn and Lucienne and the whole of the Dreamings residents. The fabric was the one Dream had picked out, a soft blue that shifted between light and dark as I moved. Gems and jewels adorned the dress, sparkling stars in a cosmic sky of night. The bodice dipped into a sensual, but classy, v shape, showing off just the right amount of cleavage to appease Dream while still appearing regal. The material flowed down, soft and covered in butterflies as they perched on my dress. “Did you need something?”
He shook his head. “No, but you do.”
Of course he already knew. I shook my head. “Do I even need to ask, since you already know?”
“Only if you want to.”
“Destiny,” I started. “Will you walk me down the aisle today?”
He nodded. “It is written and so it shall be.”
“You and that book are unbearable, you know that right?” I fiddled with my fingers and sighed. “Is this going to go well? Or should I prepare myself for a disaster?”
“It will go as it is meant to,” he offered me.
I rolled my eyes. “Should've expected that.”
He agreed with me. “Yes.”
When the time finally came to leave the room, it was Merv and Matthew that came to fetch me. They led Destiny and I across the bridge and through the town of people, all standing and waiting to throw various flowers at my feet as we walked. The beach had been my idea, it was the first place I’d seen of The Dreaming, the place I’d fallen back into upon my return from Destruction's realm, it was the black sand that had brought Storm to me at the hotel. It was the gateway to Dream and to everything he held dear to him. The path beneath my feet shifted, De’s words echoing in my mind as I slowed my walk down to match Destiny’s leisurely pace.
There at the end of the path, standing tall in front of the waves was a beautiful pavilion covered in flowers and swarming with butterflies. The guests lined either side of me as I walked through them, each smiling and whispering kind words as I passed them. In the front row, Lyria waited beside Destiny’s chair, her golden eyes bright and a look of pure love and appreciation filling her face. Death stood in the center of the pavilion, smiling and wiping her eyes with a handkerchief as she watched me walk toward them. Matthew swooped down, perching beside Death and right next to Lucienne, who mirrored Death’s expression with poise and joy. Morpheus stood in front of them, clothed in fine clothes of midnight with cuffs of fire around his wrists and ankles. The stars in his eyes shined brighter than ever before as I moved to stand in front of him, looking him up and down with an appreciative noise. “You certainly picked fine fabrics for yourself, Dream Lord.”
He chuckled softly, his eyes trailing down my own clothes with a hum. “I certainly picked fine fabrics for you as well, my lady.”
I shrugged. “I think everyone else did most of the work.”
“A fair assessment.” He smiled, holding his hand out to me. “You look beautiful.”
Blushing, I took his hand. “Stop it. Any more flattery and this will be a short affair.”
Death led the whole event while Dream and I stared at each other, making inappropriate comments to one another through our thoughts and trying to remain composed. If Death noticed she didn’t say anything, but Lucienne shook her head at us and gave us a quick, but firm point with her finger. A clear message to behave ourselves, which only made me want to laugh more.
My nervousness had melted away beneath Dreams' steady and adoring eyes. It became so perfectly clear, so painfully obvious just how much we loved each other at this moment. If I could go back to that basement and show myself one thing, it would be this. The look that Dream gave me, a love that hummed between us stronger and more powerful than anything I’d ever felt before. I’d tell myself how worth it all the pain and years of uncertainty and running was. I’d tell myself that Dream was worth more than anything, and that this moment was all that mattered.
“And now, because I said so, I pronounce you two husband and wife.” Death practically squealed. “You may kiss the bride, little brother.”
Morpheus smiled down at me as he took a step forward, stroking a hand down my cheek before pressing his lips to mine, a modest kiss, all things considered. He pressed his head to mine. “My beautiful wife.”
I bumped our noses together. “My handsome husband.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Dream of the Endless.”
As Dream and I walked back down the aisle, and led the guests to the palace for time to mingle, the coronation that Dream insisted we hold immediately after the wedding, the town of dreams and nightmares cheered and celebrated with dancing and songs. Everything was full of joy and life as we greeted each guest and Lucienne and Matthew and Merv accepted gifts tucking them away on some table that was far too small seeing as it was hidden completely by a mountain of stuff. The Endless, save Desire and Destruction, gave us their well wishes. Hob looked out of place and absolutely lost, but insisted that he was having the time of his immortal life as Death wrapped an arm around his shoulder and introduced herself to him. The look on Hob Gadling's face when he learned Dream was not that one that gave him immortality was priceless.
Calliope and her sisters came bearing even more gifts that we truly didn’t need, but appreciated nonetheless. She embraced me tightly and whispered a soft, "Congratulations." In my ear before turning and bowing her head to Dream. Each of her sisters thanked us for our help as they followed her past us.
I smiled over at him, smugly recalling how he nearly didn’t invite her claiming it could be awkward. "See, not weird at all."
He shook his head, holding my hand. “Are you ready?” Right. I’d almost forgotten that we were doing both of these big things today. I nodded, but the nervousness burned through me and into him. “We don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I said. “It’s just… It’s a big deal.”
“Is it?” he questioned. “You have already been doing the duties of the Queen. I do not see how making such official is more frightening than the actual work.”
“It’s just very… official.” I tried to explain. “It changes things.”
Morpheus pulled my hand to his lips. “It changes nothing. You are my wife, my equal and you are the Queen of The Dreaming. Our people have known this, have witnessed this for months. All this changes are the laws that, we’ve witnessed, rarely apply when it comes to you and a few extra adornments.”
“A crown and a throne are hardly simple adornments.”
He shook his head. “You’ll get used to it.”
I smiled at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course I am,” he answered. “More than okay I am eager to see you sit beside me on a throne of your own, a monarch beside me forever.”
It was relieving to hear him say it, even though he’d said it all before. I breathed out a long breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”
He squeezed my hand in his and led me up the winding staircase, the sounds of the throne room dwindled down until it was silent as Dream and I stood side by side, Matthew perched on Dreams throne and Lucienne standing off to the side, tears in her eyes as she shed the box in her hands and smiled at me. God I was going to cry… I swallowed thickly as Dream turned me to face his throne. He opened the lid of the box and pulled out the glistening crown of moonstone gems and silver light. “Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver, my soul bound, my wife, do you swear to rule over this realm with honor and loyalty?”
“I do.”
“Do you swear to place the needs of your subjects and the safety of The Dreaming and all it encompases before your own?”
I nodded. “I do.”
Morpheus smiled at me, placing the crown upon my head with tender care and gesturing towards the throne, now moved slightly to the side. As I took a step forward a throne of white, much like Dreams took shape, the back carved with a butterfly to match his helm as a marble plant branched off to the side, wisteria plants of stained glass glittered in the light as butterflies came from every direction to perch on the back of it. I chuckled quietly as I sat down, looking out at the throne room full of dreams and nightmares and friends. Death was smiling brightly, Delirium was playing with the butterflies that had gathered around her, Destiny and Lyria both smiled, holding each other's hands as they looked up at us. Abel was crying, Cain was holding his head high and smiling up at me. Dream bowed to me. “I, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, name you Penelope, Queen of the Dreaming.”
***
Hell was quiet as Maikeen walked up the stairs in search of her master. “Your Majesty?” There in the side room, looking out at the clouded sky of ash and fire, Lucifer stood, still clothed in their night clothes. “Shall I ring for your attendants to help you dress? There are several demon battles scheduled for your entertainment.”
“I can think of nothing I’d enjoy less,” Lucifer said, voice devoid of the usual mischief that it usually held.
Mazikeen sighed. “In which case, Lord Azazel would like a word.”
Lucifer sneered. “Except that.”
The echoes of the multiple voices that the void known as Azazel echoed from behind them. “Then I will be brief, Your Majesty.”
Mazikeen and Lucifer turned toward the torn open veil of darkness and glowing eyes and sharp smiles. “Azazel, how like you to arrive without an invitation.”
“I come at the bidding of the assembled Lords of Hell.”
“You’ve stopped fighting each other long enough to assemble?” Lucifer asked, walking towards the many faced demon.
“We have, against your enemy, our enemy, Dream of the Endless. The armies of Hell are yours to command, should you wish to strike.”
Lucifer smirked for a moment as they moved around the table, fire blazing in the braziers. “You wish to invade The Dreaming?”
“If you command it.”
“And then perhaps the Waking World? And one day even the Silver City.”
Their mouthed tilted up into smiles. “Precisely. Since none of us may leave Hell, we may as well expand its borders until Hell is all there is.”
“You have given us much to think about, Azazel.”
“I would ask you do more than think.” The demons tone darkened. “The generals demand action.”
“Do they?” Lucifer asked, voice dipping into a deadly rage. “Then I shall act. You may tell them.”
“Excellent,” Azazel said. “One last thing, Your Majesty.”
“Yes?”
The shadows seemed to ripple as Azazel spoke again, “I ask that the Fate Weaver… The new Queen of The Dreaming, be left to me.”
Lucifer's wings flared. “What do you want with the little Weaver?”
“She has burnt my book, killed the strongest among my dukes and foiled the plans I’d placed to bring you, us, closer to the victory we long for.” The voices echoed words. “We want to be the ones in charge of her suffering.”
“Very well,” Lucifer agreed with a stiff smile.
“Good day, Your Majesty,” Azazel said with a bow of its heads.
Mazikeen waited until the void of darkness faded before she turned to Lucifer and sighed. “He is not to be trusted.”
“No,” Lucifer agreed. “But he’s not wrong.”
“Then, may I ask, what are you going to do?”
“Something that I have never done before.” They stared into the fire with a smile, their face twisting into delight. “Something that will make God absolutely livid… and bring Morpheus to his knees.”
From the balcony all of Hell could be heard chanting the name of their ruler. “Lucifer! Lucifer!”
As they looked down at the horde of demons they smiled, flaring their wings out to draw out louder cries and cheers as their army marched down the center of the ruins.
The Sandman and The Girl Without Dreams will return once more news of the possible second season comes out. If there is going to be a season 2 then I’ll likely wait to write the sequel until I can watch it. And if there isn’t going to be one, then I’ll do my research into the comics and just kind of wing it. Thank you all for the absolute love and support this series has gotten! I am so proud of how it’s turned out and so proud of the work I’ve accomplished. I’m so thankful so many of you have grown to love it just as much as me and I’m so excited for all the coming projects. Thanks so much!
TW: gore, violence, knives, cuts, a tiny bit of angst (this is the end of the angst train I promise), bickering, slight reliving of some memories, smut (oral both receiving, penetration), fluff, apologies, gifts, Dream finally has his head out of his ass
This chapter is mostly unedited so if there are mistakes please just ignore them 😅 My app won't let me edit long posts so 🤷♀️ Enjoy!
Reposting AGAIN BECAUSE THIS APP HATES ME! xD
Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”
“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.
The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”
“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”
The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”
The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”
“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”
Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”
***
The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"
"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."
He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."
"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.
Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"
"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."
I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"
Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."
He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."
Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"
"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”
“Let’s get on with it then.”
“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”
I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”
Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”
He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”
"Far from it doll," he said with a laugh as he advanced forward once more.
The kick to my sternum was unexpected and sent me flying off the stage and onto the ground. I had no time to catch my breath before The Bull leapt down, knife poised and ready to end this. I rolled to the side, gasping and sore, just missing the stab of his blade. He twisted the blade in his fingers and moved to stab me again, but I stabbed into his wrist, holding his arm away from me as he pushed harder with a desperate thirst for blood.
When my strength didn’t falter his fist came swiftly from the side and punched up into my ribs, the hit not only broke a few, but sent me falling further into the aisle. I hurried back onto my feet and moved backwards, dodging each movement of his fists and blade, waiting for an opportunity of my own to strike. The wound on his shoulder provided such, it was a small delay but it would have to do. He moved again and then I struck, lunging forward, leaping onto him and digging both my blades into his back and pulling up.
The Bull grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doors to the room, not giving me any time to move or think before kicking me all the way out into the lobby. My head cracked against the ground as he advanced, stepping on my knee until the bone strained and cracked beneath him. With a pained cry I stabbed his thigh and rolled when he lifted the pressure off me, kicking the shin of his leg as I went. I was off balance now, my knee burned as I shuffled backward and watched The Bulls movements. He smiled, but this one was no longer the wide smug grin, it was tense and forced. He was getting annoyed with me.
He started advancing more sloppily now, the pain I’d inflicted on him mingling with that bubbling frustration. It was risky, relying on his fractured emotional state, but I intended to use every possible advantage I could. We moved around the people, who appeared to be sleeping or frozen, dishing out hit after hit until my back slammed into the cool metal of the elevator doors just as they began to open. The Bull shoved me inside, winding his fist back. I ducked and used the opportunity to lay into him.
My blades sliced the back of his knees, stabbed into his side and stomach, just as I brought my hand down to bury the blade into his chest, his hand caught my arm and threw me onto the bloody floor of the elevator as it began moving up. His knife dug into the side of my stomach and my sharp cry filled the space. The Bull settled on top of me, smug and over confident as he abandoned his own blade and forcefully pulled one of mine from my hand. “I’m gonna make this nice and slow.”
The metal of my blade caught the light, fire raging inside it as he brought it down to my face. I caught it in my hand, wincing as the metal sliced through my palm. My blood didn’t drip down onto me though, it ran backwards up the blade and spread out over his hand. I could smell the flesh burning as The Bull let go of the hilt with a startled noise as my blood burned him. I wasted no time throwing all my body weight into him, pulling him to the ground. The dagger flipped in the air, I caught it and quickly buried both of my blades deep into his eye sockets. His body moved, twitching and flailing for a moment before it stopped entirely.
Breathing heavily I forced myself to my feet, wiping the blood off my blades with my already ruined pants. I hit the lobby button and stared down at the lifeless body of The Bull. The ride down was silent, still, as my body reeled in pain. “Have fun in Hell you fucking bastard.”
The doors opened and I slowly made my way back to the convention room, just in time to catch the demon standing between The Corinthian and Dream, holding him still with Lyrias twisted dark threads. “Now you die, Dream Lord. You then Destiny.”
I threw one of my blades, aiming to slice through the threads. “You and I have business, demon!”
Its head turned to me with a dark sneer. “You. Why won’t you just die?!”
With a painful shrug I moved closer to the stage. “Maybe it’s just not in my nature.”
It turned away from Dream, jumping down off the stage and standing between me and them. “You cannot stop me, Weaver. Not without killing Destiny’s precious Lyria.”
“I’ll find a way.”
A dark smile, oozing with black spread on her face. “No, you will die.”
It lunged forward, slashing with dark claws and cutting my leg and hitting the daggers from my hands as I dove behind it. The Corinthian had turned to Dream, dagger raised and ready to strike his creator. I grabbed his threads and pulled him to his knees. Dream watched, still unable to move his feet from the threads I hadn’t cut around his legs. “Penelope!”
Claws dug into my shoulder, reopening the once sealed wound there as the demon cut deep and then threw me to the ground. It smiled widely, twisting its hands, a noose tightening around my neck and pulling me back into the stage, choking me. Voices filled my ears, The Stewards, Olethros, Isabel, Pierre, Johanna. Voices of all the people I’d lost, or could lose. The demon laughed. “Such a convenient thing for you to keep tied to you. A noose, made of your own failures, perfectly sized to hang you with. Pathetic. Soul bound. Fate Weaver. Your titles matter not, for you are weak. It was foolish of you to think you could ever beat me.”
Soul bound. The voices grew louder in my ears as my lungs began to burn. Fate Weaver. I closed my eyes, my hand scratching the ground, fingers running through coarse sand. Sand. The hilt of my dagger brushed against the tips of my fingers, buried deep in the black sand that now coated the floor between me and the demon. I wasn’t just those things. Thunder rumbled in the room, echoing loud and fiercely as the dark clouds of The Gathering Storm covered the ceiling. I wrapped my hand around it and cut the threads around my neck, ignoring the way the blade sliced through my skin as well. Lightning struck the claws of the demon, bringing it to its knees with a startled cry as I stood, the sand swirling around me. “I’m not just a soul bound or a Fate Weaver. I’m the fucking Lady of the Dreaming and so long as I live you won’t lay a finger on my King.”
Storm swirled around Lyria’s hunched over body, twisting around her limbs and shocking the demon as it writhed and fought against it. I moved fast, grabbing hold of her shoulder and looking back at Dream, our eyes locking for the first time in days. “Finish it, Dream.” I looked at The Gathering Storm and bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”
Then Lyria and I were gone, landing in Destiny’s garden as he stood, waiting for us. The demon was weakened by the lightning and I had hoped that Lyria would be strong enough to fight it. If Destiny could get through to her, maybe the book could provide some information. Black blood spilled from her mouth as the gold of her eyes flared against the darkness. “Kill me.”
“No.” I said, grabbing the book from Destiny’s table and flipping through the pages. “We’re going to save you.”
“There isn’t time!” She cried out. “Kill me. Do it before I hurt him again.”
Destiny knelt down in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. “I will not lose you again.”
Her head slammed into his face, the blow from the demon strong enough to send him to the ground as it climbed on top of him, raising its claws with a shriek. Its hand froze in the air, trembling as the gold in her eyes raged. She was fighting, as hard as she could, I needed to be fast. The pages provided little information, but a dispelling spell finally met my eyes and I wasted no time in reading it. The demon's dark shadowed body pulled away from Lyrias, both of them screaming as I completed the spell and the demon was pulled back to its own shadow realm.
Lyria slumped forward into Destiny's chest as he sat up and quickly checked her for a pulse. “Des, is she okay?”
He pressed his head into her hair and breathed in deeply, quiet for a long moment. “She’s alive.”
I released a relieved breath, my shoulder stinging as I neared the two. Her eyes fluttered open, the black finally gone from them as she looked around us. “Is it truly over?”
“Yes, Lyria,” Destiny said softly. “You are home.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned weakly to him. “Destiny… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He stroked her cheeks. “No, this was my doing. I should have told you of Penelope… should have told you what I intended.”
The sting in my shoulder intensified until I found myself gasping for air. Looking over my shoulder at the shadows as they began to seep from my wound. Destiny looked at me, Lyria’s eyes followed. “He’s left his mark on you. He will use it to pull you to him.”
“You can still trap him.” Lyria mumbled weakly as Destiny held her close. Her golden eyes met mine. “His soul, whatever is left of it, is bound to the book. Find the page with my handprint and you’ll find the spell to rebind his physical form to the book as well.”
“Penelope-”
“Don’t worry Des, I’ll finish it. Just… Tell him I’m sorry,” I whispered, gripping the book tight in my blackening hands as my shoulder seethed in shadows. “And that I loved him more than anything.”
“Weaver!” Destiny yelled as I let myself be pulled into the darkness.
***
Dream rose to his feet, his eyes turning away from where his lady had vanished from to The Corinthian as he clapped slowly. “Quite the woman isn’t she? I’m starting to think I put my money on the wrong Weaver. So, back to square one it seems.” He pulled a knife from his jacket and shook his head. “But I won’t go willingly.”
“A knife against a dream?” he asked, stepping towards his creation slowly.
“You don’t think dreams can die?” The nightmare egged on. “Let’s find out.”
Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand has only just begun to swirl around The Corinthian as he stabbed his knife into Dream’s hand. It was surprising to him when it actually hurt, so much so he dropped to his knee and examined the cut with tentative hands. “How?”
“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide, smug grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”
“No.”
“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”
“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”
The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”
Dream ignored the nightmares words and pushed himself into the dream just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”
“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”
He moved through the plastic lining the door with a sigh at the sight of so much death and violence before him. “It’s his dream, for your world.”
The Corinthian sneered at him for a split second before smiling at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”
The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”
“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”
“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly as he watched his nightmare struggle to keep his composure.
Rose looked up at him, sorrow and confusion shining in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”
Dream nodded a little. “Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”
The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”
“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”
Steel singing in the air echoed around them as The Corinthian pointed a knife at him. “He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”
“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”
“I’m tryin to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.
“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.”
“Enough!” Her voice echoed in the vast space as Dreams' eyes looked up, there in the distant darkness he could see Penelope… A dream of her? No. A vision.
She’d been thrown to the ground, her surroundings unknown to him as a clawed hand of darkness grabbed her head and held her down, squeezing enough to puncture her cheek. Dream took a half step forward when her eyes met his, wild and desperate… afraid. Penelope! Her eyes filled with tears, the fire in them raging as her hand found a dagger. She shoved up, stabbing deep into the arm of whatever creature lurked.
Rose’s power radiated through the room, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of his lady as she was dragged back into the shadows and out of his sight. A scream and a wild shriek filling the air. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime the walls go back up. Because I am not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two I’m wide awake.”
His heart thundered in his chest as he watched the walls further separate him from going to Penelope. And just like that the dream faded, The Corinthian filling his view as he lifted his hand and examined the healing wound. His nightmare took off the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. “If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”
“You’re not going back.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse with the emotion that raged in him. Penelope was somewhere fighting for her life and he could not save her and The Corinthian… his masterpiece needed to be unmade and he needed to be the one to do it. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”
“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian scoffed at him. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them, not even her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”
“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”
“Or you might actually feel something.” His nightmare smiled, sad and angry. “I am not the problem Dream.”
There it was. The answer to the question he’d been asking for so long. Why did his dreams and nightmares feel so distant from him? Why did they prefer Penelope, someone they’d only just barely been introduced to when he had been beside them for eons? It was far more simple than he’d thought possible. He pushed them away, shoved them into strict rules that shackled their growth and thus their ability to view him in any light other than a captor. “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”
The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. “I am only sorry I won’t be here to watch you lose everything… to see Rose Walker do the same to you.”
Dream knelt before the pile of sand and plucked the small skull up and a sad smile. “Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little dream.”
He turned to the crowd of his creations flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”
They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed out of the room. Dreams eyes settled onto the spot Penelope had once stood, his heart sinking lower and lower every second she did not reappear before him. My love… Where are you? Please… Tears filled his eyes as the minutes passed with no sign of her. Penelope.
***
Darkness surrounded me, the wound on my shoulder burning now in the rancid air as I stumbled into the altar and shakily set the book in place. I flipped through the pages, eyes scanning and desperate to find Lyria’s handprint. Come on. Come on!
A dark chuckle echoed around me, pain ripping through my shoulder and tearing a scream from my throat. “Why do you still fight against the dark, little Weaver?”
Before I could even move out of the way the demon had grabbed me and thrown me to the ground. My head cracked against the stone as I pushed myself back, hands fumbling in the dark for my lost daggers. The glowing red of the demon's eyes was all I could see in the darkness in front of me as it shifted and moved without a sound. Its long talons flashed for a second before its whole hand curled around my head and squeezed the sharp points into my skin. I groaned, still trying to move as my eyes lifted and a hazy vision of Dream and Rose and The Corinthian flashed in the distance. Dream... I thought softly, my hand shifting toward him and bumping into the sharp sting of Destruction sheathed in steel.
I wrapped my hand around it, taking one last look at Dream's eyes before forcing my body up and stabbing the blade deep into the demon's arm. It shrieked loudly, its hand tightening around my head as it flung me through the air and sent me crashing into the altar. This time my whole body burned with pain, every wound I sustained in my fight with The Bull and with the demon before, as the adrenaline began to fade and everything else started to settle in. I coughed up blood as I turned and reached for the book, weakly flipping the pages until my heart sank at the sight of a torn page. “No.”
“Did you really think I’d leave the one page that could rebind me?” Mephistopheles asked with a loud, smug laugh. “Don’t you see now? You cannot trap me.”
“If I can’t trap you then I’ll just have to kill you.” I wheezed as I took my blade in hand and stabbed the book as hard as I could, the steel piercing the thick leather. A soft, dark light began to seep out from the book. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
Mephistopheles growled in the darkness. “Your little blade isn’t strong enough to kill me. NOTHING IS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL ME!” Claws sliced clean through my side, pulling me and the book back to the ground as the red eyes loomed over me and a twisted grin of darkness and thorns smiled down at me. “I’ll give the Endless your regards, Penelope.”
No. The world of threads offered little help, as all the threads save the gold were covered in darkness. My eyes fixed on the molten gold as it swirled brighter than ever, gold drops pulling towards me like fireflies in the dark. Forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom. The Fates voices echoed in my ears as Mephistopheles’ claws tore through my stomach. FUCK! My hand shot out and wrapped around the golden thread. Fire, bright golden swirls of fire wound around my arm and sunk into my skin, burning hotter than anything I’d ever felt. A scream tore through my throat as the gold curled up my shoulder as I lifted the dagger again and stabbed the blade the rest of the way into the book. Golden light illuminated Mephistopheles’ face and he tore away from me, attempting to shield himself from the light.
“NO! NO!” He roared as the light burnt away at the shadowed body. It lunged for me one last time, a mad move made by a dying demon. I ripped the dagger from the book just in time to lift it in front of me and watch it slice clean through its neck. The head of the demon fell to the stone and the book blazed in a puff of golden fire, blackening until the soul within it was consumed. The dagger clattered to the ground as I turned to look at the golden thread, unable to pull my hand from it. Power burning and bright and nothing like any power I’d felt before surged through me. I pulled against it harder, tears streaming down my cheeks as the power grew too great, too painful for me to stand any longer. The gold filled my vision as my body weakened to the point where I couldn’t move anymore. Blood oozed from my wounds, pooling beneath my back as a vision played in the glowing thread.
A tall figure clothed in black and stardust moved across a stone bridge. Dream. He walked through the town with his head held high as everyone he passed smiled and bid him a fond good afternoon. He looked happy. Dream followed the familiar path to Cain and Abel’s houses and shook his head with a chuckle as he crossed the bridge. “I thought I told you not to stray far, yet here you are wreaking havoc on Cain and Abel’s garden.”
A little girl was perched upside down half hanging from Pierre’s statue, her long raven hair blowing in the breeze as she flipped around and leapt into Dreams' waiting arms. Cain bowed his head to Morpheus. “It’s no trouble, my lord. She can be quite helpful when she wants to be.”
“Yes, when she’s not too occupied with vanishing!” He shook his head as the girl pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “You’re just like your mother.”
“Mommy’s good at disappearing!” The child sang. “She can do it SO FAST!”
Dream laughed, a laugh so full of joy I’d never heard it before. “Yes, she is. Speaking of her, we should get back to the palace. She’s going to be back today.”
The girl looked up into his eyes, stars shining in hers. “Do you think Uncle Destiny and Aunt Lyria will give her a gift to bring me?!”
“Don’t they always?” He asked as she jumped from his arms and hugged Cain, then Abel and then the much larger Goldie.
She grabbed Dream's hand and tugged him along across the bridge. “Come on then Daddy!”
They moved back through the village, the sight of the mighty Dream Lord being dragged through the town by the smaller girl didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Just as they reached the bridge a woman stood on the opposite end, looking out at the setting sun. The little girl let go of Dreams hand and booked it toward her, only giving her enough time to turn before nearly tackling her to the ground. “Mommy!”
Laughter echoed as Dream moved closer, revealing my face buried in the girl's hair. “Ophelia!”
“Did you bring me a gift?” the little girl demanded, squeezing my cheeks.
“Of course,” I replied, laughing. “It’s in the library with Lucienne and Matthew.”
The child, Ophelia, leapt to the ground and ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her. Dream pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “How is my brother and his wife?”
I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”
“Did he answer your question?”
“He did.”
Dream looked down at me, an expression of anticipation and hopefulness filling his usually stoic face. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense my lady?”
My smile grew wider as I nodded. “He confirmed our suspicions.”
Now, Dream was beaming, bright as a star as he enveloped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a bit. “This is wonderful news! Did he tell you which it would be?”
Once he set me back down I cupped his face with a wide smile. “A boy.”
“A boy,” he breathed, hands resting on my stomach. “I assume you already have a name in mind?”
I smiled, the eyes of my future self looking over his shoulder and into my own. “Omiros.”
“Omiros.” I could hear the smile in his voice as more tears streamed down my cheeks. “A strong name. Though I have to wonder where you, my love, came up with such a name.”
My eyes turned away from me and looked up at him with happy tears. “I heard it a long time ago.”
His head tilted to the side as he stroked my cheek. “From where?”
“A dream,” I answered.
“You said that last time,” he noted, suspicious.“Well maybe you should believe me then.”
“My son. Omiros,” Dream said again, softer, almost like a prayer as his thumb rubbed against my stomach.
The gold thread faded before my eyes, taking the vision with it, and my hand fell limp onto the stone floor. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me. The darkness and decay of the realm remained as the creatures gathered around me, drawn to the starlight that had been glowing from my head. A green butterfly flew past my eyes and settled on the bloody skin above my heart. The light moved, flickering out for a moment before glowing even brighter beneath the butterfly. The creatures made a noise, soft and desperate. "You would be stripped of your light and left to darkness should you try."
The light, the blessing, would set these people free. I didn’t know how I knew, but something inside me just did… It was the only way to set all this right. I lifted my hand, despite the pain the movement sent through me, and touched my heart. The butterfly settled over my palm as I pulled the light from my chest, holding its steady warm glow tightly. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me.
"Goodbye, Morpheus," I whispered, letting the light slip from my fingers and up toward the sky. Silver spirits of the creatures trapped in the darkness followed the light up into the sky, tearing through the darkness and leaving me one last fading view of the night sky before darkness overtook me.
***
Destiny stared out into the night sky as he held Lyrias hand in his, absentmindedly stroking his thumb along her skin. He could feel her heart beating again, after all these long years, she was home. All of it was thanks to Penelope. She’d offered him help, even knowing that the likelihood of her demise was great. He looked down at the shimmering gold of Lyrias cheeks and smiled, pressing a kiss to them as he stood.
“Father,” he said out into the sky. “I have never asked for anything… You know I would never ask unless it was of great importance. Just this once, I ask for your favor.”
Beside him Time stood, hands clasped in front of him. “I cannot guarantee she will live. First she must pass her final test, and then her fate will be decided.”
Destiny nodded. “It is a chance, one I can only hope she will be strong enough to make good use of.”
“We shall soon see.”
***
The darkness that cocooned me was neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. I felt weightless as voices swirled around me, one soft but cold. A hand shook my shoulder, soft and warm and familiar. “Penelope, it’s time to wake up darling.”
“Mother?” I whispered as my eyes opened to her kindly face looking down at me with a soft smile. She pushed my hair out of my face. “Am I dead?”
Her face twisted as she gasped at the question. “Heavens no! Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because this…” I stopped myself, eyes roaming over the modest bedroom that had so very long ago been my own. “This isn’t real.”
Mother laughed softly. “You and that imagination of yours. Now, get up. We have a long day of lessons ahead of us.”
I sat on my bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room and my breaths heavy and sharp. What the fuck is going on? I thought as I pulled the covers off me and practically ran to the mirror. I looked like I had then, youthful. The wounds I’d gained while fighting The Bull and Lyria and the demon were gone. I turned my wrist over, running my fingers along the smooth unscarred skin. It was all gone… No, it just hadn’t happened yet. I sank to the floor, tucking my knees to my chest and letting out quiet, scared sobs. Was this real? And if it was… what was I meant to do?
A voice, warm and loud, echoed through the room. “You must choose what was or what could have been, Fate Weaver.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, but the voice didn’t come again. Okay, I told myself, wiping the tears from my eyes. This is just another test. I just needed to figure out where I was and what this choice was. After I got dressed for the weird day that was no doubt ahead of me I looked around my room, if there was anything here to tell me what was going on it would certainly make this easier. I pulled a box out from under my bed and opened it up to reveal a simple fine dress, one I recognized almost immediately.
This was the day I snuck out and attended the party at the Burgess house for Alex. The day I met Morpheus. The day that changed everything. Choose what was or what could have been? Whoever it was that set up this weird trip to the past wanted me to either make the same choices I had, the ones that led me to where I ended up or to choose differently? I practically scoffed. Why would I change what happened? I had already lived through it. Unless… whatever being was doing this expected me to live through it all over again.
The pained memories of the asylum filled my mind as I set my head in my hands. What would change if I tried to do things differently? Morpheus. I looked down at my arm where the mark had been and sadly ran a thumb over the smooth skin. If I change things… It would change our relationship, change what we meant to each other… what we still mean to each other. I kept going over it in my mind as the day dragged on. My father, the man I’d killed with my bare teeth, sat across from me at the table as we ate. I’d forgotten how miserable I was. Forgotten how absolutely horrible life had been living in the Barlow house.
Sure, I was fed and had plenty of time to myself, but it was lonely. There was no Matthew to swoop down and chatter in my ear. No Lucienne to offer up a book recommendation or talk to me for hours about the knowledge she held. No Mervyn calling me kid and offering to show me how to do various jobs. There was no Cain and Abel and Goldie with their garden and their bickering. No town full of loving nightmares and dreams. There was no Dreaming, no home… No Morpheus.
For a while I wandered the Barlow estate grounds, deep in thought, but no matter how long I thought about it my answer stayed the same. I would follow the events of the day as they had happened, even if it meant I would have to live the years that followed in the same torment that I had before. I looked at myself in the mirror as night finally came and smoothed a hand over the dress that would soon be ruined, before climbing out the window and making my way toward the Burgess house and the crowd that gathered there.
I walked as if I was in a daze, moving through the crowd until Alex's young and familiar face smiled down at me. "Penelope! It's about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandoned me to be eaten by these people!"
“Alex…” I hadn’t seen him in eighty years. Even after all the pain he’d caused me, I couldn’t help but feel happy when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside. For a split second I’d forgotten that this wasn’t real, that this was all some kind of memory or, or, something.
I looked up at the house, residual fear and anxiety building in me as Alex led the way. Hand on my shoulder he looked over me with worried eyes. “Are you alright? You seem quiet.”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Well, relax, Pen. Tonight is supposed to be fun.” His family butler scolded him quietly and he nudged my shoulder. “Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility.”
I took one last look at his face, one last look at him while he was still my friend. “You are rather irresponsible.”
“Says you,” he retorted with a laugh and a nudge to my shoulder.
“Don’t be too long… responsible Alex, or I’ll be the one that becomes the meal.” Goodbye, my friend. I thought as I watched him walk out the door. Hopefully once I got to Dream this whole thing would end, but if not… Alex wouldn’t be like this again.
I instinctually moved toward the least crowded part of the room, my eyes drawing to the door with the guards standing in front of it. Now that I knew what secrets it held the curiosity was gone, replaced by a cool and pulsing rage. He was down there. Alone. Naked. Locked away in some goddamn fish bowl for what? Roderick Burgess’ pride? I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Dream was free. He was safe. Just like before I watched the people dance, drink and come close to overdosing on every drug imaginable at the time. All just one large facade. The rich man fell to the ground, convulsing just as he had before and I turned toward the basement door. Everything and everyone froze as the voice from this morning echoed around me again. “Choose.”
For a moment I looked around at the party, studying the faces of the upper class crowd. They were miserable, all of them, I had known it then and I knew it now. I turned back to the door and descended the dark stairs, into the basement that would soon fill with beatings and blood, but the second my eyes met his in his glass cage my heart soared. Whoever organized this, whatever they wanted of me, had wasted their time. There was no world where I wouldn’t choose him.
The basement was just as I remembered it, damp and dark, reeking and poorly lit. The glowing glass sphere hung in the center of the large space and my legs nearly buckled at the sight of it. Morpheus sat up, dark, star filled eyes watching me as I moved closer and closer to him. He watched me with a stoic expression, but his eyes betrayed what he felt, as they always did.
“Don’t worry. There's nothing they could do to make me choose differently.” I said as I stood face to face with him, tears running down my face as I pressed my hand to the glass without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you, Dream.”
He said nothing as he mirrored the gesture. Just like the first time pain exploded across my palm, but this time when the images and voices filled my head I knew them. The memories of Dream and I played in my head, every tiny gleam in his eyes, every stupid game I played with him, our goodbye and then our reunion, Matthew and Lucienne and Mervyn and Cain and Abel, home. They were here, all along from the beginning they were here. The glass shattered beneath our hands as Dream’s voice silenced all the others. “I thought you’d left.”
I smiled as the glass turned into sand. “I would never leave you, my Dream. You’re my home.”
The memory or illusion of Dream stepped out of the metal frame and stood in front of me, lifting his hand and blowing sand into my eyes. Everything faded away until I stood staring at an empty expanse of darkness. Two figures stood before me, neither looking my way but at each other.
"It has been a long time since we have shared a plane,” the soft, cold feminane voice said.
The other replied, rough but warm. "Yes. I have missed you."
The soft voice belonged to a woman, tall and thin, beautiful beyond belief. She wore a gown of glowing light and her long hair was black with stairs swirling inside it. Night. I told myself. This was Dream and the other Endless’ mother. “I am here now.”
The loud voice belonged to a man, old with vibrant red hair and a long beard filled with gray strands and features that reminded me of De and Olethros. He shook his head. “Only because you felt drawn here. You did not come for me.”
“No, but I am here nonetheless.” Her eyes, two glowing stars, turned to me. “Your light is gone, little star. It was a mistake of you to give it away for even I cannot return it to you.
The old man changed before my eyes, into a small boy. “To give away such a blessing is quite the feat alone, especially for a mortal born. But, more interesting, perhaps, is your choice.”
“I just did what I thought was right.” I answered him.
“Right?” he questioned, now older but not old. “Was it out of obligation or love I wonder? Mortals seem to be quite fickle in their feelings.”
This must be their father, I told myself. Dream had spoken little of his parents and from what I could gather from Desire there was a good reason for it. As I watched them coldly argue with one another over what my fate was to be all I could think of was how unhappy and bitter they both sounded. Night was cold and emotionless as she spoke. “Does it matter why she chose this path?”
The man turned to her, the young boy once again. “It does to me, as it should to you.”
“She may have foolishly given away my blessing, but the fact remains she passed your test, Time. Do you not wish for our son to be happy?"
“My blessing is a rare and powerful thing. I will not give it to someone unworthy of it.”
They fought again for what seemed like hours. Listening to them certainly made their children's messy histories make more sense. For a while I considered trying to leave, find my own way, but there was literally nothing but abyss around us so I quickly decided against it. Then my thoughts shifted to whether or not I'd have to choose a side between them, should this argument turn into an actual fight.
As I looked between the two it was difficult to figure out who I found more intimidating. Time was loud and even in his old appearance he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Night, while delicate in appearance, held a very cold and calculating look in her eyes that made me question just how soft she truly was. Truthfully I hated both options. Maybe I could take them both? I thought, touching my thighs. Right no daggers. They both looked at me curiously.
"Do you honestly think you could fight us both?" Night asked.
"Two Endless beings of greater power than you could ever know?" Time added.
I shrugged. "I don't know! It's not like I have a lot of options. And also it's quite rude to drag me here, test me, argue in front of me, then read my mind and judge me on trying to figure out how to fight you two if need be. Mind your own business, which it seems you two have plenty of!"
"Who would you choose of the two of us?" Time asked, sending Night a glare. "I am far more powerful."
Night merely rolled her eyes. "You always were so self important. The mortal would obviously pick me, for she has been given my blessing before."
"Another reason as to why she would choose me. For it is my blessing she needs now."
"ENOUGH! God I see why your kids are so fucked up! You two are, no offense, truly fucking terrible.” I looked at Night. “I thank you for giving me your blessing. I’m sorry I gave it away, but I’d do it over again if it meant saving those people.” I turned to Time, now an old man. “Give me your blessing or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going home with or without it.”
He tilted his head a little. “You think yourself capable of navigating the endless darkness?”
I shrugged again, frustrated and exhausted. “I don’t know, but I don’t care. I’m going home. If it takes me days or years I don’t care. If I fucking die here trying to find my way back… I. Don’t. Care. I have to try at least, I owe them all that much.”
“You are a curious human, Penelope Barlow.” Time said, stepping towards me and holding out his hand. “My son has asked me to save you.”
“Dream?”
“No, I’ve not spoken to Dream in eons. It was Destiny.” He changed again into a younger man. “He’s asked nothing of me since the creation of this world. Yet he asks for a favor now, for you… a mortal.”
I smiled at the thought. “He didn’t have to do that.”
Time nodded. “No, he did not, but he did. You hold much influence over my children and are regarded highly among them, for all would have asked this of me."
"You sound confused by that."
"I am. You are nothing but a mortal." Time insisted. "Your soul being bound to Dream means little in regards to my other children. And yet they would all come to me on your behalf."
"Maybe it would be easier to understand if you actually spent any time with them." I bit out. "Both of you."
Time didn't respond to the jab. "You passed the final test I had laid before you, The Fates were right in their assumptions. But, know that it is only for Destiny that I grant you my blessing.” I could see Night scoff as he held his hand out to me, old once again. Once my hand met his wrinkled skin, golden light filled the darkness.
My eyes drifted shut as the bright light grew hotter and filled the dark abyss, and when I opened them again I was back at the hotel, laying in the center of the aisle, chairs on either side of me. Some of my wounds had healed, the ones that would have killed me, but the others were still fresh and bleeding. My hand was blackened from the flames and burnt marks curled up my arm, remnants from the golden thread and there, laying at my side was the head of Mephistopheles and the burnt book that once bound him.
***
"Did you find her?" Matthew asked as soon as he landed at Dreams feet.
Dreams' eyes scanned the crowd for a moment. "No, but she's still here, I can feel it. We'll check inside."
He turned just as she hobbled out of the hotel doors. She froze at the sight of him, her tear stained face looked pale and sickly. The blood and wounds that covered her all over didn't help ease his conscience, but it was her hand that he focused on. Penelope cradled the right one to her chest, holding a black book, the dark lines of burnt flesh in the shape of rope, no, threads. She'd had to touch the burning thread, had to twist it around her arm to free herself of whatever torment his callousness had doomed her to.
For a moment they both just stood there, looking at one another, not willing or able to move first. He took a half step forward, and her eyes filled with tears, lips quivering as she closed the distance between them, crushing herself into his chest. He felt lighter, like he could finally breathe again as he hesitantly hugged her to him. Through her sobs she pleaded, "Can we go home? Please?"
Home. The word was bittersweet. It meant that she still considered The Dreaming her home, but also meant that even with what he'd said to her and denied her, she still trusted him. "Yes."
Her body relaxed as the chilled air of The Dreaming wrapped around them, but neither of them moved. Dream was afraid of what would happen after he let go of her. She had to be angry with him and after searching for her for so long… After seeing Desire's hands on her… Dream knew they had much to discuss. Matthew cawed. "I hate to ruin the moment but… Is that a head?"
She pulled back, lifting her left hand and the severed head she gripped in it. "Right. I'm gonna have to take this shit to Destiny tomorrow."
"What the fuck have you been up to the past few days?!"
"It's a long story," she admitted with a wince as she waved her hand, easily creating a box and tossing the head and book inside. Whatever she had done to gain the upper hand over the demon had unlocked her connection to his power fully now.
Dreams' eyes slid down to her deep wounds as blood dripped to the floor. "You need attended to."
She nodded, dazed and stumbled to the side. "Yeah, uh, I'm about to pass out. The… The blood loss is really starting to, uh, kick in so if you could… Catch me or something, I'd appreciate it."
Just as she predicted her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she began to drop to the ground. Dream caught her, holding her to him tightly. "Matthew, tell Lucienne that Penelope is back, and send her to my quarters."
"You got it boss," the raven said. Hearing his casual tone made Dream feel better. Perhaps now that she was back things could return to normal. He set her on the bed, carefully discarding her clothing and looking down at the deep wounds and still retreating black veins. No. Things would never go back to normal, at least not the normal he was accustomed to.
He worked tirelessly, sewing and wrapping her wounds with what magic and skill he had until he finished. He pulled fresh blankets over her and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her injured hand tentatively in his. Dream watched the black veins and discoloration fade from her skin. His hands helped cool the sweltering heat of her body and once the color had begun to return to her skin he let himself feel the relief of having her home.
It may not last. She could still wake up and decide to leave, but for now he was content. Penelope was home, here in their bed, and most importantly she was alive. Lucienne knocked at the door, entering quietly and clutching her hand to her chest at the sight of her friend. "My lord! What's happened to her?"
"I do not know," he admitted. "After she and the demon vanished I only saw a glimpse of whatever she faced. When she awakens, I'm certain she will fill you in on the details. The items she came with, where are they?"
"In the library, sir. I thought it best to keep a close eye on them, just to be certain they are truly dormant."
He nodded. "A wise course of action."
Lucienne stroked Penelope's hair and looked up at him. "Do you need anything, my lord?"
"I must finish this business with the vortex." His voice was soft and sad, unable to pretend any longer that the task at hand meant nothing to him. Rose Walker had proven herself to be brave and kind hearted and strong. She reminded him of Penelope when he'd first met her in the damp dark of the Burgess basement. And that only made his duty more difficult.
Lucienne nodded. "I'll stay with her."
"No," he said softly. "Return to the library and watch the artifacts she brought. Matthew can watch over her, that way I will be able to see her through him."
"Very well, my lord." She smiled down at Penelope and sighed softly, relieved. "I am glad she's home."
"As am I." He stroked her skin one last time before standing. Now he could only hope she wanted to stay.
***
When I opened my eyes I was back at Destiny's garden, everything had been repaired and put back just as it was supposed to be. Destiny stood beside the table, carefully setting it as the sun began to rise. "You are early. Or perhaps you are on time."
I smiled, laughing a little. "Were you expecting me?"
"No," he answered, turning around to face me. "But I was hoping you would come back."
"I have you to thank for that," I said, moving closer and wrapping him in a soft, weak hug. "Your parents are assholes, by the way, your dad especially."
His hand gently pressed against my back, his famous and comforting one armed hug. "I am simply glad you are here, Weaver."
"Me too." I mumbled. "How is Lyria?"
"She is resting," he said, turning to finish setting the table. "But she will recover quickly, thanks to you."
"Good." I sat down in my chair and sighed in relief as the pain subsided a little. "How are you?"
Destiny smiled. "I am better than I have been."
"Wow, a real answer?" I teased. "You sure she didn't hit your head too hard?"
He sat down across from me and shook his head fondly. "Did you retrieve the book?"
I nodded. "And the bastard's head."
"Both must be taken to Hell and returned to The Morningstar."
"You think Lucifer is involved in this?" I asked.
Destiny didn’t respond for a moment. “No, but Mephistopheles was a Duke of Hell and what remains of him should be returned to his master.”
There was more, I could feel it. “What else?”
“While you’re there I would ask you to retrieve some things of Lyrias from Lightbringer.” He looked at me, but this time there was a thinly concealed rage in them that I’d never seen before. “The demon stole them and took them to Hell in order to keep them from me. His remains should be enough to trade for them.”
"Alright, how do you want me to facilitate such a trade?" I asked. "The devil and I don't exactly have the best relationship."
Destiny gestured to a small letter beneath my cup. "I've written out what to say. Hopefully it keeps you out of trouble."
I opened the letter and read through the finely written, far too modest request.
Lucifer, Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I will offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts, as well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.
“Sounds simple enough," I said, moving to stand. A bit too simple.
His hand reached across the table and settled over mine. "Weaver, I simply wish for you to get Lyria's artifacts back, though I know there are some questions of your own need answered. So, I hope you shall heed my advice when I ask you to remember the ruler of Hell can be rather pedantic. Tread this path cautiously."
"Aren't I always cautious?" I joked.
"You will be going as my emissary." He gestured to the broach on the table. It was shimmering gold with an intricately carved depiction of his garden. "My sigil will mark you as my Fate Weaver and grant you entrance into Hell. They will likely be expecting you."
"Expecting me?"
"Word of Mephistopheles death will have reached them by now, along with the nature of that death.
I sighed, wincing at the pain that motion caused. "So I'm gonna be walking into a bloodbath?"
"No, so long as you do not stray from the path or your purpose."
"I'll be safe, Des."
"Of this I have no doubt, Weaver."
***
Back in Dreams bedroom I forced myself to get dressed just as Matthew flew through the window with a relieved sigh. “You fucking asshole!”
“Whoa, chill out there Smokey,” I said looking down at him as he perched on the bed. “Why are you so mad at me?”
“You disappeared!” He yelled with a caw. “They told me to watch over you til you woke up and you just poof, gone! I was worried! I thought for sure you’d gotten trapped or some shit!”
I winced as I sat down beside him. “Sorry Matthew. I didn’t mean to… poof. Destiny and I just needed to have a quick chat.”
He ruffled his wings at me. “Well, warn a bird next time.”
“I will,” I said, smoothing over his feathers. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Penny. For a while last night we thought we lost you for good.”
Looking around at the room, cast in rainbow light I chuckled a little. “You might have, for a little bit at least.”
“So, what did Destiny want?”
“I gotta take that shit I brought last night to Hell.”
“You’re going back to Hell?!” He cawed again. “Like willingly?”
Looking down at him with a smile I shrugged. “Looks that way.”
“God, you’re weird.” He said. “Come on, Merv and Lucienne are freaking out looking for you.”
“Did you tell them before you told Dream?”
He flew onto my shoulder. “Of course! I sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell the boss I lost you again!”
We walked through the halls for a while before Merv came around a corner and nearly slammed into me. His pumpkin features relaxed slightly as he pulled me into a hug. “Thank fuck! I thought you left us, kid!”
I smiled into his thin shoulder, inhaling the smell of pumpkin and tools. “I’d never abandon you guys.”
He steadied me as we walked the rest of the way toward the library where Lucienne paced back and forth as a dream stood off to the side of her. “He’s not going to be happy when he comes back and finds her gone again. Are you certain you checked everywhere?”
“She is nowhere outside the palace. We would have noticed her.”
“I do tend to stand out,” I said, hobbling forward towards them.
Lucienne let out a breath and ran to my side. “My lady!” Her arms wound around me, pulling me into her embrace. “You must stop scaring us like this.”
“I’m sorry, Lucienne.” I said. “Had a meeting to get to.”
She pulled away and helped Merv get me settled in a chair at the table. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m alright,” I insisted.
“My lady, you are badly injured,” she said, examining the deep wound on my neck. “You need to return to bed and rest.”
“No can do, Lucienne. I’ve got a job to do. Speaking of, where's the things I brought back?”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to the book and the… head?” She said moving around the corner to bring the box of the artifacts out. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.”
“Thanks,” I said, examining the box carefully as the feeling I’d tried to ignore since getting back began to bubble to the surface. “Where… Is Dream busy?”
Lucienne gave me a gentle look. “I just returned from helping him deal with the vortex.”
Shit. I tried to stand. “Is he okay? Did he…”
She set a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay sitting. “He’s alright, my lady. As is Rose Walker.”
“How? I thought there was no other way.”
“Normally there isn’t,” she said. “But, this whole situation appears to have been manipulated by Lord Morpheus’ sibling.”
“Desire.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Lord Morpheus is speaking with them currently.”
“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” The memories of them, their cruel game, filled my mind. “Is he… Did he seem angry?”
Lucienne looked confused for a moment. “He did. Desire’s game would have put the entire Dreaming at risk.”
I sighed. “And did he seem angry after I passed out?”
“No,” she said. “He was worried for you, my lady. All night he remained by your side, tending your wounds and ensuring that you were healing.”
“Thank you, Lucienne.” I said to her, standing to look over the artifacts in the box. “I need to get ready to go to Hell.”
Lucienne’s face immediately twisted into sharp concern. “My lady, that is most unwise! You are still injured!”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I still have to do this.”
“Surely it can wait,” she insisted.
“The longer I put it off the worse it’ll look to Lucifer. I killed one of their Dukes, they know that I did. Besides, I’d like to get this over with, and get a few answers.”
She seemed to understand as she looked down at my clothes. “Well, if you intend to travel to Hell, you may want to change into more appropriate attire.”
I laughed, nodding. “True.”
For the first time since the hotel I felt the surge of power that normally would have been Dream, but it was different. It wasn’t as strong as his, not by a long shot, but it was more than I’d felt before. I lifted my hands and ran them down the length of my body, watching as my clothes changed into light and breathable but strong material. The long sleeves were dark lines of multicolored thread glistened when I moved. The chest piece was golden armor with a half cloak of starlight pinned with Destiny's brooch. My daggers were secured to either side of my belt that snuggly accentuated my waist where the gown flared out and cascaded down my legs like a dark night sky.
Matthew let out a loud noise. “Damn Penny! That’s impressive!”
“You look amazing, my lady!”
“Kids got more talent with gowns than wood, that’s for sure,” Merv teased, bumping my shoulder.
“Hell appropriate?” I asked.
“Very much so.” She said as the doors to the library opened and the familiar light footsteps of Dream echoed through the library as he moved with haste.
Dream’s mouth opened, ready to call out to Lucienne no doubt, but he quickly shifted into a sigh as his eyes met mine and he swept towards us. Merv and the dream quietly excused themselves from the library, as Matthew and Lucienne moved to the corner. "There you are. You should be in bed."
"I have work to do," I answered, awkwardly fixing the fastenings of my newly made gown.
I could feel his eyes look me up and down, admiring either the gown or my figure beneath it. "And what work takes precedence over your health?"
Here we go. "I have to take these back to Hell."
I could feel that hum of his resistance roll through me. "No."
"Dream," I sighed. My side burned as I turned to look up at him. "You of all people can understand that this is important. It's my job, just as ruling over the collective unconscious of this world is yours. I have to do this and you have to let me."
"The Morningstar will be looking to ensnare you again." He warned. "Not only for your association to me, but because of your power and because you've killed one of their more powerful demons."
"I know." I touched the brooch. "Destiny has asked me to do this. As an emissary I should be free to come and go."
Dream still wasn't convinced. "Should be, but they will try to trick you or bend the rules."
"If worse comes to worse I'll just teleport out. They won't be able to hold me for long."
"I'm coming with you." He decided.
"No. If you set one foot in Hell they will either lock you up or kill you."
I was right and he knew it. "Take Matthew then."
With a sigh and a smile I shook my head. "Matthew hates Hell."
Dark and strong clouds took shape beside us as Storm bowed. "My lord, my lady. I wish to accompany you."
“I would gladly welcome your company, Storm,” I said, relieved that they were willing to join me. Having a friend at my back, especially one as intimidating as them would hopefully help calm my nerves and keep Lucifer from trying anything.
Dream acknowledged Storm with a polite nod and then looked at me one last time. It was obvious he didn't want me to go, but unlike all the times before he seemed softer as he agreed. "Be careful. You are still injured and they will see it as weakness."
"Thank you," I said, my hand brushing against his.
"I have one condition."
"Dream…"
He lifted his hands, a brilliant and gleaming circlet crown with a vibrant blue gem in the center of two butterflies sitting against his palms. "Wear this. That it may remind any that sees it of your status in our realm."
Without a word he set it on my head, wearing my hair around it and gently holding my face in his hands. "Thank you, Morpheus."
"Do not thank me for giving you what's rightfully yours." He pressed a kiss to my hand and squeezed it. "You will return once you've finished, won't you?"
"Of course I will." I answered. It was awkward between us, the things left unsaid and unacknowledged festing between us as we interacted with one another. "We have a lot to talk about."
Guilt and sorrow flared in his chest as he nodded. "We do, but later."
I smiled a bit and nodded. "Later."
"Yes," he replied fondly.
Lifting myself up on the tips of my toes I pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping the simple act could convey my sincerity, and turned to Storm. "Ready?"
They bowed again. “I am beside you, my lady.”
I secured the head onto my belt and grabbed the book, sparing one last look at Dream as black sand swirled around Storm and I, engulfing us in it and then fading away to reveal the charred bodies that lined the gates of Hell.
“There’s one at the door,” a heavy breathy voice followed. “At the gate of damnation. Is thief, thug or whore?” At the end of the burnt hallway of mangled bodies behind the twisted gate I could make out the tall and burly figure of the demon as he stood, waiting. “There’s one at the door. And there’s room for one more till the end of creation.”
The gates of Hell were less grand than I’d imagined and clearly geared toward terrifying anyone stupid enough to find themselves here. I walked forward with my head held high, I would not meet the Devil as a scared sniveling girl again. “Hello, Demon. I’ve come to speak with the Morningstar.”
The demon chuckled. “And who are you?”
“I am the Fate Weaver and Lady of The Dreaming.”
“Do all queens have such small crowns? Or is it just you?”
Thunder clapped behind me, a cold wind swirling in the air. “You can either open the gate or I can tear it open. The choice is yours, but either way I’ll be seeing your master.”
A smaller figure, gleaming in silver, stepped to the side of the demon guarding the gate. “Move, Squaterbloat. They’re expecting this one.”
“Mazikeen,” I said softly, nodding at her as the gates opened. “Thank you.”
She bowed her head to me. “Apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of our gatekeeper.”
I gave the demon a side glance as I walked through, looking at the dimly lit sky raining with fire ash. “It’s fine, one doesn’t expect courtesy in Hell.”
The path ahead was lined with demons, each holding a blazing brazier, the smell of their burnt flesh wafting towards me as Mazikeen gestured forward. “Our ruler awaits you in the palace and has prepared all of Hell to entertain you during your stay.”
“I have no need for entertainment,” I answered, holding the book tightly in my hand.
“Our master insisted. They said you will be staying for quite some time.”
“I’ve come to return something of your sovergines, as well as receive answers.” As we passed each demon, thunder echoed behind me and dark clouds plumed at my back. I smiled at the theatrics of my companion. It appeared I would be entering Hell with wings of my own. "I won't be staying long."
Mazikeen led me the whole way to the palace, across the steep winding bridge and through the large stone gates back into the familiar dark stone of the devil's palace. She bowed to Lucifer, moving into the shadows of the room as I stepped up the stairs. Their great wings tucked into their back as they turned to me with a smile. Their eyes looked at the wings Storm had given me with a chuckle. “Quite the entrance you make, Lady of The Dreaming.”
“I figured Hell would be the appropriate place for such theatrics,” I said, bowing my head. “I assume you know why I’m here.”
“You’ve come to return something of mine, I hope.” They looked at the book and then the head that hung around my belt.
I set the book on the table between us, then I unbound the head and set it beside it. The words Destiny had prepared for me rolled off my tongue. “Lucifer, honorable Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts.” Their eyes lit up as I spoke, delighted to hear such a formal message. “As well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.”
They waved their hand, a box being brought out by another demon and set on the table. “We were prepared for such a trade. You do surprise me though, dear one. Not so long ago you were shaking and fearful in this very room. And now, you stand before me again, tall and steady.”
“I’ve been through a lot in the past few months,” I said. “A meeting with the devil isn’t exactly surprising anymore.”
“There’s something else you want,” they said confidently. “Ask it, and perhaps I will grant it to you.”
I took a deep breath. The questions I had weren’t ones Lucifer could answer. Only one person could answer them. “I want to speak with Nada.”
Their smile grew wider as they moved around the table to stand in front of me, eyes piercing my soul. “Nada? Now why would the Lady of The Dreaming wish to speak with one their king has condemned to Hell?”
“She can answer some of the questions I have.” I said plainly.
Lucifer tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment. “Why should I let you speak to her?”
“Me asking is a courtesy,” I answered. “We both know I could just teleport to her if I wanted to. But, I wish to respect your authority in your realm, so please, allow me to speak with her and then I will leave.”
They chuckled. “Another question, why should I let you go? You are Dreams beloved and he would surely come to save you, should you be trapped. It would be quite a brilliant lure.”
“It would. But, it would also bring Destiny to retrieve me, and with him Death and Delirium.” Fire burned in their eyes. “I am a Fate Weaver and the Endless have made it known that they respect my position enough to defend me if need be. Is war what you seek?”
“It would make God quite angry with me.” They smiled, but their fire in their eyes faltered.
“It wouldn’t last long enough for him to notice. The Endless united would destroy you.” My words swam in their eyes as they regarded me with a look I’d almost consider admiration.
Lucifer stood up straight and gestured toward the windows of their palace. “You are free to seek out Nada, Lady of The Dreaming, I’ll allow you a short amount of time and then you will leave. Should you refuse to go, you will remain here.”
I bowed my head again, retrieving the box from the table. “Thank you, your majesty.”
With Storm at my back one of the demons had escorted me to the tall winding tower and up the steps to the thorned gates of the cell that housed the woman Dream had once loved. She was beautiful, even in the distressed state that Hell had driven her to. Her skin glistened in the dull firelight as she turned, shimmering brown eyes wide and hopeful. “Kai'ckul?”
Our eyes locked and a wave of confusion washed over her before understanding sparked. “Hello, Nada. Forgive me, if my presence has brought you more distress. I just wanted to speak with you.”
“He spoke true then?” She said quietly. “He has found another… His queen.”
I shook my head. “I’m not a queen. I’m just… Just me.”
Nada stood, moving to meet me at the gate, her hands curling around the thorns. “Yet a crown he's given you, small but more significant than you could ever realize. What is it you seek?”
“I…” Maybe this was a mistake. What would my questions accomplish? “I just wanted to know what he was like, when you knew him.”
“He was magnificent,” she said, eyes drifting off into the distance, some part of her finding a moment of release in the memories. “Beautiful and powerful… Being loved by him was consuming. Kai'ckul loves deeply and holds onto that which he loves with a grip like chains. We were never meant to be eternal, but I knew it was what he wished of me, and perhaps before the destruction of my home… perhaps things could have been different.”
She was kind, such a beautiful soul. “I am sorry about what happened to your people, and to you.” I looked around at the small space that was her prison. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Nadas' eyes returned to mine. “You cannot free me.”
“No,” I answered solemnly. “But I will try to convince him to return for your freedom.”
“Kai'ckul will not listen to you,” she said. “He listens to none but himself, for he is a proud king above all. I could feel how deeply he loves you when I saw him last, and I can see how deeply you love him. But he is Endless, his pride will never bend to anyone. One day he will cast you aside for duty and if you gain his ire he will cast you from his side… perhaps even to a prison like my own.”
Had I not already done that? Had I not questioned him and insulted him and gained his anger more than once? I shook my head. “That is not the man I know. He is stubborn and can be unmovable at times, quick to anger and prideful yes, but he’s never once threatened to cast me aside and when I have gone he has always come looking for me.”
Nada took in my words and smiled softly. “You think he has changed?”
“I know he has,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”
The demon that escorted me shifted, my time was running out. Nada took my hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it. “Lady of The Dreaming, I wish you luck in your endeavors. And… And I humbly ask that you not forget me. If anyone can convince him to free me, it is you.”
“I won’t forget.” I promised. “And the next time you see me, you’ll be free. I know it.”
The demon moved forward but Storm and I were gone, back in the library. I set the box down on the table and asked Lucienne to watch over it and went to find Dream. I expected him to be in the throne room, but he wasn’t. As I opened the door to the bedroom I didn’t see him at first, but when I turned to leave he emerged from the balcony. “You’ve returned.”
I could see the worry in his face melt away as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “Of course I did. We need to talk.”
“Indeed.” He sighed. “I thought you were trapped… You were gone longer than I expected.”
“I was safe,” I assured him, picking at my fingers. “I… I spoke with Nada.”
Dreams face fell again, dark and sad as he took on the weight of my words. “I see.”
“Does that upset you?”
“Only because I know what she will have said about me.” He admitted. “And I fear that it will change how you see me.”
“Nothing could change how I see you,” I said, just as he had to me all those months ago. “What you did to Nada was wrong, but you’ve already admitted that you know that.”
He studied my face closely. “Then why did you go to her?”
I shrugged. “I needed to know if the person I spent the last few months feuding with at every turn was the person your other lovers knew.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen the change in you. You are not that man anymore. After… After Roderick and the years we spent apart, you’ve changed Morpheus. I know that you don’t like to think you have, but you have.”
For a moment I thought he would insist he hadn’t changed, like all the times we’d spoken about it before, but instead he nodded. “I know.”
“What?”
“I know that I have changed,” he breathed out. “It was… unexpected and difficult to come to terms with, but… I am glad that I did. It puts many things into a different perspective.”
I took a step forward. “Like what?”
His starry eyes met mine as he moved closer to me. “I have treated you poorly… Have wronged you and denied you that which is your right and I have done it all to satisfy my own pride. Asking you to halt your duties as Lady of The Dreaming was my first mistake, one I regret more than words can express. Growing angry with you for doing that which is merely your nature to, was my second. You have helped this realm far more than anyone since you came here. You have brought hope and laughter back to The Dreaming in a way I never could have accomplished. But what I regret most deeply, is how I spoke to you the night you left. You were right. Gault did not deserve the punishment I gave her, nor did Nada. You were right to question my judgment and I… I am sorry that my words, my actions forced you to leave and placed you at the hands of my sibling.”
I stiffened at the mention of Desire, tears filling my eyes as I looked away from him. “That night… I kissed them. But I didn’t…” God I was so stupid. “I thought they were you. They looked like you and then I saw you in the mirror…”
“I know,” he said, reaching out to press a gentle hand to my arm. “I know what they did to you and I am sorry I did not get there sooner. I looked… I spent all night looking for you, I even asked Hob Gadling for help.”
I smiled a little. “I knew you were looking for me.”
“How?”
“I spoke to your sister. Despair first,” I admitted. “I kind of fell into her realm. But when I came back De… Delirium saved me from falling off a roof.” I smiled, only now remembering the way her eyes were the same color, blue just like Dreams. “She and I have known each other for a while though… From the asylum. She tried to get me to wait for you, but… I was scared.”
Dream stiffened, and even through the barrier still between us I could feel the hurt in him. “You were afraid I would hurt you?”
“No!” I said quickly, my eyes meeting his again as I grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating. “No, Dream… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d see me and it would just confirm that I was nothing more than a mortal. That I wasn’t worthy of being your equal. So, I left and then things started to get… worse. I’d only felt that out of control when I was back at the asylum and it.... I went to a bridge and, uh, almost jumped.” I could see the fear in his eyes grow. “Death brought Pierre to me and they stayed with me until Johanna picked me up.”
“I am so sorry that my sibling drove you to such a dark place,” he said. “You did not deserve that, none of it.” His eyes sparkled. “I am not worthy to have you as an equal… You are far more wise and loving and strong than I could ever hope to be, my love. You deserve my power.”
I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re an idiot. I never wanted your power Dream. I just wanted you.”
He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek. “I see that now. I know that the trust that was broken between us will take time to heal. Words are not enough to make up for all the months I’ve mistreated you, but I wish to show you now… in our room, what you mean to me, if you’ll allow me.”
I lifted my lips to his, just a breath away from touching. “Pierre asked me to make you work for my forgiveness.”
Dream smirked. “Did he?”
“Oh yes, I believe the exact word he used was grovel.”
“I will,” he said seriously. “If it’s what you wish I, Morpheus, King of Dreams will grovel before my lady.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want you to grovel, but I am going to make you work for it. You can start by kissing me.”
He needed no further instruction, hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him, his head ducking down to press his cold, silken lips to mine. Chills ran all over me as the barrier between us fell apart and both of us were overcome with everything we'd been holding back. For a minute all we could do was breathe against one another as everything settled between us. It would take time to sift through everything, but we had it.
Dream closed his eyes, holding me tightly. "It's good to feel you again. I've missed your heart bearing beside mine."
"As have I," I replied. "No more barriers."
"No more." He agreed, pulling me into another kiss.
It had only been a few days, but so much had happened it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last touched each other like this. He waved away our clothes, both of us moaning at the feel of each other's skin, as he moved us to the bed. His mouth was on my neck the second my back hit the silk sheets, biting and sucking and kissing down my body. He lavished each breast before moving lower, pulling my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them.
My hands fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots as his tongue lapped at my core, twirling around my clit and plunging as deep inside me as he could make it. My moans and mewls filled the room as the stained glass glowed brighter, casting Dream in a heavenly glow as he looked up at me from between my thighs. "God you're pretty."
He hummed against me, nearly bringing me to climax. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, chills breath fanning across my wet skin. "You are divine, in every way. Your body, your voice, your scent… The way you taste. I could spend hours feasting on you."
I moaned, tossing my head back with a breath. "I don't doubt it."
With a gentle chuckle he returned his mouth to me, moving in the way he knew drove me mad. I came, breathlessly against his tongue. He would have kept going, but I had other plans. I tugged at his hair until he rose from the floor, kissing up my chest until he reached my lips. Pulling him to me I kissed him desperately until his body relaxed on top of me. I flipped us over, hovering over him with a smile. "My turn, Dream Lord."
Unlike the few times before Dream relaxed into the bed, spreading his arms out, relinquishing full control to me. "I am yours, my love."
I returned the favor, sucking marks into his neck, kissing each one and moving down the length of his body until I reached his hard cock. Stroking it slowly in my hand I listened to every soft sigh and strained moan that spilled from his lips. Morpheus was never very loud in bed, but god the noises he did make were heavenly, or sinful perhaps.
I kissed his hips before moving my lips to pepper his cock with the feather light kisses and licks. His hands fisted in the sheets. "Penelope," he gasped. "Don't play games with me."
"I would never, my king," I answered, licking slowly up the length of him and swirling my tongue over the tip. My lips wrapped around him, slowly moving until the majority of him was in my mouth, my hand pumping what remained as I settled into a steady rhythm.
One of his hands fisted into my hair, not pushing me further down or pulling me away, just grounding himself as worked. I didn't know how long it took for him to take hold of my head and lift his hips eagerly into my mouth, his moans growing louder and louder until he pulled me off him and dragged me up to straddle his waist. I'd expected him to flip us over and retake control, but he didn't.
Morpheus looked into my eyes as he guided me down onto him, just like at the lake but this time his hands were soft against my skin. He let me move, set the pace and simply ran his hands along my skin, closing his eyes to savor the feel of us both moving against each other. He finally surrendered control and that fact drove me to move faster, to kiss him harder, to pour every ounce of love and admiration I held for him into this moment. Forgiveness, full and complete forgiveness, would take us both time, but in this moment there was no doubt in my mind that he was the man I knew him to be.
I came and he followed, but he continued to fuck me all through the afternoon, by the end of it both of us were spent and breathing against one another as we lay tangled in the sheets. "Was that satisfactory work for you, my love?"
With a smile I kissed him again. "It was a very satisfying start."
"Cruel thing," he teased, his hand resting on his chest where his ruby would have sat, reminding me of my own gem sitting in my drawer.
"Would a cruel thing have a present for you?" I asked moving to my desk and taking the necklace out, hiding it in my palm.
I returned to my place by his side. "A gift?"
"The project you were so curious about. It was this," I opened my palm and dangled the necklace in front of him. "It just seemed like you missed having one, so I made this."
Dream sat up and ran his fingers along the jewel with a soft smile. "It is magnificent."
I watched him slide it over his head and admired it against his bare chest. He lifted my head and kissed me deeply. "I shall have to make you a gift."
"You don't have to do anything," I assured him. "Just lay with me."
"Always."
As we lay together we caught each other up on all the details of the last few days. Both of us were content for the first time in a long time.
“Matthew said The Dreaming wasn’t doing so well after I left. I’m sorry if I caused any problems,” I said tracing shapes into his chest. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“You didn’t cause most of the damage,” Dream admitted. “It was Rose Walker and her friend, Lyta Hall.”
“What did they do?”
Dream sighed. “Rose weakened the barrier between dreams and reality, giving her friend an opportunity to live out a life with her dead husband, who had been using dreams to avoid his fate. I had to step in. Her husband is now at the place appointed for him and Lyta Hall and her baby are within my sight.”
“Baby?” I sat up a bit. “She had a baby in The Dreaming?”
“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he clarified. “When he grows I will have to make certain he’s safe.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you tell her that? Should we be checking in on them?”
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Oh I doubt she would be happy to see me again.”
“I mean you took her husband from her, but that wasn’t really up to you. You just did what you had to.” I answered, examining the look on his face. “What else did you do?”
“I may have… rushed through the process and… perhaps… insinuated I would take her child.”
My mouth fell open as I glared down at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”
He sighed. “I informed her that the child was conceived in The Dreaming and told her I would come for it.”
“Dream!” I slapped his arm. “You cannot just tell people you’re going to steal their kids!”
“I’ve no intention of stealing the child!” He argued. “He has power, and such can be used against us should another being learn of his existence. He will need to be watched over and taught how to harness his abilities eventually.”
“I understand that,” I said sternly. “Lyta Hall does not! She’s just a human that thinks some god is coming after her kid.”
I stood up and started getting dressed. “What are you doing?”
“WE are going to apologize to Lyta Hall and assure her that her kid isn’t getting stolen.” I waved my hand to him. “Get up, baby stealer, let's go.”
Dream complied with a heavy sigh. “I forgot how demanding you can be.”
With a smirk I pulled myself into his chest. “I can be very convincing too.”
“I am aware,” he said, kissing my lips gently. “You’ll be showing me after we return from this endeavor.”
“Will I?” “I too can be very convincing, my lady.”
***
We stood awkwardly in their living room, everyone staring us down but none more than Lyta. She blocked the path between us and Daniel with a glare that spoke the words she did not. I turned and glanced back at Dream, who met her glare with one of his own. “Could you just try to not look so… you?”
He practically rolled his eyes as he looked over at me. “This was your idea.”
“You need to apologize,” I said quietly as I elbowed him. “You promised!”
Dream sighed heavily, stepping forward a bit and addressing Lyta. "I am sorry for insinuating that I would steal your baby."
"The gift too."
A quiet groan. "Here is a gift, to show our good will."
He held the onesie out to Rose, who took one look at it and chuckled. “My little Dreamer?” She asked looking up at Morpheus who looked back at me with a glare when my giggling grew too loud.
“If I recall, you are the one that chose this gift,” he practically growled.
“I did! It was just too funny.” Rose laughed with me as Dream and Lyta continued their glaring. Rose turned to her friend, showing her the soft fabric and though her anger and near hatred remained prominent I could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. I stepped around Dream and held the basket out to her. “There’s also these.”
Lyta looked at the basket and then up at me. “Why are you doing this?”
I smiled. “Because I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to lose your husband again and then have to fear losing your baby too. Dream is….” I shook my head and shrugged. “He’s an idiot. But, I can assure you he has no intention of stealing your baby.”
“How can we know that?” She demanded. “He’s some kind of god, isn’t he? What’s to stop him from just doing what he wants?”
“Me.” I answered without hesitation. “If he tried to take your child I would stop him.”
Dream's hand on my back was comforting as he replied, “It will not come to such. I give you my word that I will never seek to part you from your son, Lyta.”
She didn’t look convinced, but when Rose grabbed her hand and nodded she softened a bit. “Alright, well what do you want?”
“To offer my protection, to both of you,” Dream said. “He was born of a dream and as such he was born with power. One day I fear there will be those that seek to use him for their own gain.”
Seeing the renewed fear in her eyes I stepped forward and smiled. “Don’t worry, between the two of us he’ll be safer than the pope.”
She laughed a little and took hold of my hand. “Why does it feel like I can trust you?”
“Because you can,” I answered. “You might not know me, but I’d never let anyone hurt a child. Nor would I attempt to steal one from its mother.” I sent Dream a glare over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding and no doubt fear it’s placed into your life unnecessarily.”
Rose lifted the basket up. “I mean if the amount of gifts they brought means anything I’d say they’re telling the truth.”
I took the soft raven plushie off the top of the pile and showed it to Rose. “Matthew’s contribution. May I?”
Lyta stiffened for a second, fear and anxiety plaguing her as she shifted to the side, letting me move toward Daniel. “Yeah.”
He was laying in his crib, oblivious to anything other than the small winding mobile hanging over him. When I bent over the side his eyes slid up to mine and a wide smile spread on his chubby cheeks as I held the raven out to him. His tiny hands took hold of it, “Jessamy.”
I smiled, tears swelling in my eyes as I studied the plushie. “It does look more like her, doesn’t it?”
Lyta and Rose came rushing to him, praising him for the word, quite possibly his first, as I looked back at Dream who smiled at the sight. It was awkward and full of tension, but it was a start. Dream rarely came with me when I visited Rose and Daniel and Lyta, but that was more to ease Lytas mind. He sent gifts with me, clothes and toys, books from Lucienne dedicated to recording Daniels first within The Dreaming. She had gushed over it for hours, pointing out how magnificent of a dreamer Daniel was.
The last time I visited them everything was the same as it always was, but this time when Daniel fell asleep with his plush raven I noticed a tiny name tag around its neck that read Jessamy. I smiled to myself at the thoughtfulness of it. Dream may not have visited often, but when he did he made sure he always left something behind for the growing boy.
***
The months that followed were hard, but unlike before it felt like Dream and I were a team. We solved problems together, he came to me for my council and considered my opinion before making any decisions. He even started delegating some of his work to me, teaching me how to do things around The Dreaming and trusting me to do what I felt was best. He even let me help him in designing new dreams and nightmares.
The residents of The Dreaming were glad to have me around and it seemed like they valued my contributions to their world. It took a while before they began to see the change in Dream, but once they did the change was almost instant. They were always happy to see him as he walked through the town, it was no longer simply respect that they showed him but also the love he had longed for from them. Dream would spend some time among them every day, creating things, conversing, listening to their complaints or criticisms and taking it into account. If there were changes that he could make, he would.
It was good to finally see him receiving the adoration he deserved. He still had moments of forgetfulness, but The Dreaming and its residents were far more understanding of it now that they understood. He was trying his best, and everyone saw it. Accepting that he had changed was difficult for him, but now that he was here he seemed far more willing to not only accept it but embrace it. Things between us only grew stronger as the days passed, and if possible I’d fallen even more in love with him.
I walked along the beach, toward the distant figure of Lucienne and Dream. This was where he liked to work, far from the noise of The Dreaming and somewhere open enough for him to create freely. The closer I got the more visible the new dream became and a smile pulled at my lips. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”
She laughed, the cosmic color of her dark skin lighting up and her wings flaring out proudly as she examined herself. “Thank you, Lucienne.” She smiled up at Dream. “May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?”
“I have no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that, so did you. But now I’m listening, or trying to.” He sent Lucienne a smile. “New dreams. New nightmares. A new age.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I moved closer with a bright smile. “Stealing my ideas now, Dream Lord?”
He chuckled. “You hardly invented butterfly wings, my lady.”
“They suit you, Gault.” I said to her, “You make a beautiful dream.”
“Thank you, my lady.” She bowed her head to me and then turned to Dream and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
She flew up into the sky, the blues and purples of her wings glittering in the sunlight. “I may be here a while. Would you mind taking care of things while I work?” He asked Lucienne.
“With pleasure, sir.” She answered happily as she bowed to us both and turned back towards The Dreaming.
Dream watched Gault fly into the clouds a moment before looking at me. “I believe there was another nightmare you wished to change.”
I nearly cried as I nodded. “Are you alright with that?”
“I am.” He said, and I could feel how deeply he meant it. “They have served you well in the past months, and they deserve to be what they wish.”
Holding the vial of storms in my hands I summoned the dark clouds and lightning. Storm looked around, confused for a moment before bowing. “My lord, my lady. Do you have need of me?”
“You once told me you wished to be a dream,” I started. “Do you still?”
They looked at Dream but nodded. “Yes.”
I placed the vial in their forming hands and held them tightly in my own, feeling the darkness and the cold winds between my palms. I focused on white clouds and calm seas, the sky as the sun rose and filled it with light and warmth. The vial shattered and wind swirled around us for a moment before light spread up Storms form, dark clouds shifting and changing color until they stood in front of me, calm puffy white clouds with hues of orange and purple, warm and filled with joy. “Then a dream you are, my friend.”
They looked at themselves, bright sunny eyes looking up at me with joy. “Thank you, my lady.”
“No, thank you. If not for you… your loyalty and friendship, well I wouldn’t be here.”
Dream stood beside me, a hand on my back. “I thank you, dream, for being there for my lady when I could not.”
They bowed. “It was my honor. But… Now I will not be able to serve you, my lady.”
“You don’t need to,” I answered. “Go, be a dream my friend. Feel the sun.”
“I need a new name,” they said. “Would you give me one, my lady?”
“What about Cloud Shaper?” I asked.
The clouds puffed up happily and the light hues shined brighter. “Cloud Shaper. You honor me, my lady.”
I watched them spread out over the sky, filling it with various shapes and hues of color, leaning into Dreams' side. “Thank you.” “I did nothing,” he insisted. “Now, I must return to my work, but I will join you later, my love.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ve got to get back to work too. I’ll find you when I’m done?”
Dream pressed his head to mine for a moment. “I would like that.”
After I finished my duties I went to the library to spend some time with Lucienne while I waited for Dream to finish his work, but to my surprise he was already there. He and Lucienne spoke softly to one another. What was he planning? I asked myself as I walked closer, nearly tripping when three loud caws echoed in the room. Matthew was perched on the shelves between me and them, standing guard. They turned to me and smiled, ceasing their conversation as I moved closer. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Dream asked. Was he nervous?
I tilted my head. “You’re up to something.”
“Perhaps. But it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”
Lucienne smiled wider. “You’re not going to tell me either?”
She laughed. “No, my lady, I fear I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“What about you Smokey?” I asked Matthew.
“Not a chance Penny.”
Dream held his hand out toward me with a smile. “Will you join me for a walk?”
I tapped my foot, pretending to think it through, before smiling up at him and taking his hand. “I suppose I could make time for you.”
“Busy are you?”
“Very!” I insisted. “I am Lady of the Dreaming, you know. It’s a very demanding position.”
“Oh I’m certain it is.”
He offered me his arm and I took it without question. We made our way through The Dreaming, greeting everyone we passed and the whole walk all I could feel was Dreams joy. He was happier than I’d ever seen him and in turn it made me feel even more joyful. At last, he was finding the balance between his duty and his people and I was proud of him. He’d come a long way. We walked down a new path, filled with tall trees and wildflowers swarmed with butterflies, it felt familiar the longer we walked. “What is this place?”
“Fiddlers Green,” he answered.
“The last of your missing Arcana?”
“Yes,” he said. “And somewhere you have wished to see for a long while.”
The path opened up to a field of wildflowers, in the distance a waterfall of crystal clear water roared to life, pouring into a lake that sparkled in the rising moonlight. It looked just like I imagined it would, no, how I pictured it could never do it justice. "It's beautiful."
"The sandman never forgets a dreamer," he said beside me.
With teary eyes I smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"After all you endured because of me," he paused, cold fingers gliding over the scars on my collarbone. "I owed you this at the very least."
"You're Dream of the Endless, you owe nothing to anyone, least of all me."
"I owe you everything, Penelope." It wasn't said out of obligation, but instead he said it like it was a simple fact. Nervousness tingled up my spine as he breathed out a breath. "None of this would have been possible without you."
"You would have done alright on your own," I assured him.
He swallowed thickly. "Perhaps, but it would not have been the same. You have reminded me of so much that I once thought lost, so much that I'd never thought I would want again. My subjects love, one to share my burdens with… A family." Turning toward me he smiled. "Penelope, I would give you anything you wished for and I promised you once that I would make you a queen if you wished it."
"Morpheus," I whispered. "You are all I want, whether or not the title comes with it I don't care as long as I have you."
"Would you wish to become my Queen and bind yourself to me?" He suddenly asked, eyes shining.
I smirked. "Pretty sure we're already bound together. But yes, I would."
He lifted his hand, opening his palm to reveal a new moonstone ring, more beautiful and extravagant than the last. Two butterflies held up the gleaming stone set in a silver band of starlight. "Will you marry me, Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver?"
Happy tears filled my eyes as I nodded. "Yes. I will marry you, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." Once he slid the ring on my finger I grabbed his gem necklace and pulled his lips to mine. The Sandman never forgets a dreamer indeed. I thought, making him smile against my lips.
TW: Dreams in denial (and a bit of an ass), angst, The Dreaming misses its fun parent, sass, Desire, mentions of manipulation, kissing, drinking, drugs, a bit of protective Dream (he's obviously big mad)
A huge thanks to @true-queen-of-mischief once again for being an absolute help with a good chunk of these two chapters! You are amazing and I adore you! 🥰🥺
Standing in the darkness of Cain and Abel's frozen garden Morpheus felt a variety of emotions raging inside him. Hurt, anger, but most of all he felt betrayed. She left. Without speaking to him, seeking him out, she snuck away and left him alone. His hands clenched at his side. You will do it alone. She had warned him. She had told him exactly what would happen, exactly what she would do. He tore his eyes from the sky and looked to Abel. "What did she say to you?"
"Nothing, my lord," Abel replied, holding the golden creature in his hands.
Cain shook his head, he was angry, but more than that Morpheus saw the pain in his eyes as he finally looked at him. "She said she needed space."
"Space?" He asked. "She's fled The Dreaming for space?"
"She's fled The Dreaming to be free of you." It wasn't Cain that had said it, but Abel. The man looked at the garden with tears in his eyes. "For months she's been fleeing the palace, coming here or hiding away deep in the woods. All because of your callous mistreatment and unjust anger."
Morpheus didn't know how to respond, not to Abel. He'd always been the more reasonable of the brothers, the one to always bkw his head and address him formally. This was different. Abel, it seemed, didn’t know how to react either, judging by the way his face paled and his eyes went wide. Cain, however, smiled at his brother for the first time in centuries. "I think it's time you left, Dream Lord."
"You-"
"You gave us this land, these houses." Cain said sternly. "Now we're asking you to leave."
He clenched his fists in his hands and released a heavy breath as he watched the brothers stand together. With a tense nod he turned away from them. “If she should return, you will come directly to me."
As he walked through the town of his subjects he saw their cold stares and felt their anger. If he'd thought what they felt for him before was bad this was something deeper, worse than he'd felt before. Dream spent the remainder of the night on the balcony, looking out at the starless night. Even through his coat he could feel the cold breeze sink into his body. Dark clouds had slowly drifted over the moon, casting the land in pure darkness. He’d tried to fix the wrongs going on in his realm, tried and failed. Penelope was gone and it seemed as though The Dreaming was reacting to her absence accordingly. He looked at his bed and his sheets, but the longer he looked the less right it felt. Everything here, in this room, didn’t feel like his anymore.
If he focused hard enough he could see her curled up in the bed they shared when he rose too early in the morning for her to even attempt to wake. He could see her standing in front of her wardrobe, covered only by their sheets, or if he’d been lucky covered by nothing at all. He could see her fixing her hair, lounging in the tub and inviting him to join her with that adorable mischievous grin. Morpheus couldn’t imagine the room without her in it, and yet here it stood empty… she was gone. Clenching his jaw he left the room and its swirling cold of old memories. She left. She had chosen to go. The fault did not lie with him, but with her.
Dream stacked all the books he needed on either side of his throne and sat, lips pursed and a book in his lap, but no matter how many times he tried to read it the words never stuck. His eyes always found their way to stare down the stairs and glued to the spot she’d defied him. The memory of her bowing, of her closing herself off to him haunted the space, an occurrence that seemed to be growing more and more common. The silence was one he was familiar with, one he’d spent eons sitting in and a century doing the same, unwillingly. No, he reminded himself. It hadn’t been completely silent then. Penelope had been there to add her noise to his forced quiet.
His whole body ached. Morpheus missed her, missed her so much he could hardly breathe and she’d only been gone for a few hours. Closing the book harshly and listening to the sound of it echo empty around him he held his head in his hand and sighed. She would come home. He knew it… he hoped… she had promised.
***
The days that followed had been unbearable. He had moved from his throne to the small space behind it where his desk sat with a few other miscellaneous things for his work. Morpheus had intended to do more work, but as he stared at himself in the small mirror his thoughts raged like an untempered storm. He had been so sure she would return after a few hours to collect her thoughts. It was unlike her to stay away without even allowing him the opportunity to explain himself. Was she hurt? He wondered, his hands tightening on the edge of his desk. Had she been trapped or perhaps injured? Dream felt his heart twist in his chest as he looked down at his arm, the black sleeve covering the mark but even the thick fabric was unable to stop the light numb sensation of nothing. He closed his eyes. Would she return at all?
Penelope had never cut off her end of their connection, she hadn’t even ever attempted to shield her emotions from him. From the moment they touched hands through the glass of his cage all those years ago he’d been able to feel her. Even when she’d been forced from his side and when he thought her to be dead the mark held echoes of her in it, a constant feeling of something more inside him. Back when he hadn’t known what it meant it had been the only thing to offer him some reprieve from the pain of her absence. And now, that too was gone. She’d stripped him of all traces of herself and left him with nothing but his own pain and worry.
It was selfish and cruel and it was everything he had been to her in the months that had passed. Even after their physical reunion at the lake he’d still treated her coldly. Abel was right on one count, Penelope had left because of him. A soft crack caused his head to lift and his eyes honed in on the mirror, more specifically the crack that had now marred the surface of it. Dream watched the crack spread from the mirror up the whole of the stained glass window and across to the others. Was all of this happening because Penelope had left? He wondered. Or was something else happening to The Dreaming? He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. She should have stayed, should have at least spoken to him or left something to tell him… tell him what? Everything he already knew?
“Loosh? You in here?” The pumpkin heads eyes widened at the sight of him before he turned on his heel and moved to leave. “Sorry boss, I was just looking for Lucienne. See ya.”
“Wait.” He said sternly. “Why were you looking for Lucienne?”
“Oh, well, we just had some minor seismic activity and a little, you know, damage I wanted to report.”
“Then why not report it to me?” He asked. Why do you not trust me?
“Uh, because you’re busy?” Mervyn offered. “While you were away, Lucienne started taking care of that stuff, so I figured why bother you when-”
That dark feeling, that loss of control curled around his lungs, nearly squeezing all the air from him as he said, “Mervyn, if The Dreaming has been damaged in any way I will be the one to address it.”
The floor shook and the cracks spread throughout the windows and up the stone walls. “Oh, for crying out loud. You want me to fix that for you? Or will it just keep happening?”
“It will not keep happening, because I will find the cause of the disturbance and I will eliminate it. Thank you, Mervyn.”
“Uh, you’re welcome.”
Morpheus watched him turn and before he could truly think about it he’d already spoken, “Did she come to you, before she left?”
The pumpkin head stopped, taking a deep, frustrated breath. “No. She didn’t.”
“Do you have any idea where she would have gone?”
“No, but hopefully it’s somewhere far from here.”
He clenched his jaw at the words of his handyman. The floor shook again, cracking the palace further. Mervyn didn’t speak as he began patching the large ones, the ones that likely would be fatal to the room if another wave shook it. “You forget yourself.”
Mervyn chuckled. “Maybe, but I wouldn't doom that sweet kid to this crumbling wreck.”
Mervyn worked quickly, but it seemed a new one would appear each time another was mended. "Any theories as to why this is happening?"
"I got one." He said, far more angry than the pumpkin man usually was. "Our lady is gone, and she's taken the heart of The Dreaming with her."
Dream breathed out a hot, jealous breath. “She does not hold that much power over my domain.”
“You really haven’t been looking around then.” He turned and bowed his head slightly. “If that’s all you require, I’ll be on my way. There’s plenty of cracks to fix around here.”
As Mervyn left Matthew flew into the room and settled on top of the desk, looking at the cracks inquisitively. Normally he’d have immediately asked the no doubt string of questions he had, but instead he just stood quietly. Dream watched him for a moment before asking, “Anything to report?”
“Just the usual. Rose is on her way to answer a call about her brother and Lyta is still pregnant.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Silence filled the room, stiff and unusual for the present company. "Are you ignoring me?" Dream demanded, glaring down at the bird.
"Of course not, if you have a task for me I'll do it." Matthew said calmly. "If not I'll be on my way."
"That is most unlike you."
The bird ruffled his feathers. "Guess I'm just not in the chatty mood while half the Dreaming is frozen and the palace is crumbling around us because you drove Penny out."
He sighed. "She left. I had nothing to do with it."
"If you really think that then I'm glad she left." Matthew hopped down from the books he’d perched on. "Better her gone than be treated like shit."
As the bird shook his wings, stretching them wide, a lingering presence of Penelope rolled off of him. “Matthew. Have you seen her?”
The bird tucked his wings back in. “Nope.”
“Matthew,” he warned. “If you know where she is and you do not tell me I-”
“You’ll banish me to some darkness like you did Gault?” He asked, staring at him. “I’m not going to betray the trust of my friend and lady. So if you’re gonna banish me then do it.”
Dream recognized the determined glint in his raven's eye and sighed. “Return to the Waking World. Report back anything out of the ordinary.”
He bowed. “As you command, my lord.”
No sarcastic quips, no nicknames, just like everyone else Matthew had begun to treat him with a cold formality that he found he did not like. It lacked the respect of such a title and was laced with an angry undertone that sent his mind into a spiral of negative emotions and hurt. They hadn’t been so callous toward him even when Penelope had been here. His brows furrowed at the realization. Though they’d loved her deeply, they’d not changed their view of him until after he’d punished Gault and Penelope had left. It was obvious they blamed him for her absence, and maybe they were right to.
You will do it alone. Though she had left without explicitly telling him she was going to, those words she’d spoken, her cutting herself off from him all of it should have been all the evidence he needed. She left because he had ignored her opinion and blatantly brushed off all conversation on the matter. All I've asked is that you hear me... That you treat me as the equal you claim I am… Since long before she had taken up the duties of his lady he had assured her, promised her that they were equals. He’d promised her a crown and a place ruling beside him and then when the moment had come to prove it he pulled the promises from her grasp and then blamed her for her frustration.
He rubbed a hand down his face. They were right to say he’d driven her away. While he’d not told her to leave, he’d offered her little choice. Another wave of tremors shook the foundations of his palace. Dream forced the thoughts of her away for a moment, focusing back on the trouble at hand. He needed more information, something he could only find in one place. With a sigh he gathered up the books he’d borrowed and began walking toward the library. This was not going to be easy, especially after his treatment of his librarian.
“Lucienne?” He called out as he walked towards her desk.
She stood off to the side, reshelving books. “My lord.”
“I have come to return these.” He handed her the books, their eyes meeting in an awkward stare. “And to assess the extent of the damage from the recent disturbances.” She said nothing, merely regarding him with a mildly curious, mostly frustrated gaze as she continued cleaning the space. He bent down and picked up a stack of fallen books. “Have you any idea as to what caused them?”
“I assumed it was you, sir.” she said blandly.
“Me?”
“Making further improvements to the realm… now that you’re back.” She replied, brushing past him to the other shelves.
Dream sighed quietly. Why must this be so difficult? “Lucienne, when we last spoke, I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value.”
“Oh?” She questioned with a tinge of that frustration he knew she bore him in her voice.
“I merely wish to relieve you of responsibilities with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened.”
“I see,” she said unimpressed.
“And in that time, did you experience any… similar seismic disturbances?” he inquired offhandedly looking at the book he still awkwardly held, only peeking up at her.
Her body deflated more. “I did not.”
“Have you any… theory as to their origin?” He pressed cautiously.
At last Lucienne sighed heavily and set down the stack of books she held, turning to him. “Speaking strictly as a librarian? I do. But won’t like it.”
“Go on.”
“I know you’re waiting to see if the vortex will lead you to The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green. The way she led you to Gualt.”
“She may yet still.”
She scoffed. “Yes, but while you’re waiting, she’s putting cracks in the foundation.”
“Rose Walker has visited this realm before and done no damage,” he replied, an attempt to comfort her. “This is something else, something new.”
“Perhaps, but if there is something new in The Dreaming and you did not create it how did it get here?” She asked. “This is the vortex. I assure you. And seeing as The Dreaming is already weakened by the absence of our lady, I would wager there’s little time to find this something new.”
He watched her return to her work. "Did she... Did she say anything to you before she… Before she left?"
Lucienne glanced up from her book for a brief moment. "No, my lord, she did not."
He knew the word of his librarian was true, she'd never lied to him before and as angry as she was she wouldn't stop now. "Do you know if she visited anyone?"
"Only Cain and Abel, as you already know."
God this was horrible. "Lucienne, I need to find her."
With a sigh she turned from her book and looked at him. "I'm afraid I cannot help you, my lord. If there is a book you're in need of finding, or anything else fitting of my station then I would be more than capable of helping you."
He opened his mouth to speak again, but Lucienne simply moved past him and walked books in hand down the row of shelves. Dream waited for a moment longer before turning and walking away from the library. He walked through the town, the eyes of his subjects burning into him as he moved. His nightmares reacted to him as though he were an enemy, furling with smoke and flashing their teeth and claws. Whispers echoed around him. "Where is she?"
"Has our lady returned? Will she ever?"
"Why has she gone?"
"Is she safe?"
All of their whispered questions he ignored until one made him stop in his tracks. "It's your fault."
Dream turned his head, examining the faces of his creations for the first time in a long time. They all looked so sad, so scared… Scared of him. They moved around him as if he'd burn them should they come too close. Had they always felt this way? The words Penelope had spoken to him so long ago on their balcony echoed in his mind. "They miss the magnificent Dream Lord that would walk among them and make new and beautiful things. All of them speak of you as though a part of you was lost, the part that enjoyed this job and all that came with it."
I do enjoy this job. He'd told her that, and yet he could not recall the last time he'd made something because he wanted to. For eons Dream did his duty, he made dreams and nightmares and he up kept the rules, but after so long had he grown weary of creating? Had she been right to suggest that a part of him was lost? He kept moving until he stood at the base of the statue in Cain and Abel's frozen garden. Looking up at it he sighed. For once he wished the Frenchman were alive, then he'd at least know wherever Penelope had gone she'd be safe with him at her side.
***
Morpheus had followed Rose Walker through her dreams and watched as she and her pregnant friend walked towards the home that should not have been there. He watched the cracks in the ground grow and felt the slight tremors beneath his feet.
"So, what do you think?" Matthew asked with a caw.
"Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors." He ordered. "And that I'm taking care of it."
As he moved, entering the home with ease he breathed out the unpleasant feeling in him. Fixing this would not be easy, taking away such a powerful dream, such a painful one, never was. But it was his duty, his responsibility, and furthermore his realm and his people depended on it. He stood off to the side, the spirit of Lyta's dead husband sitting tensely on the couch as the two women entered. “Hector, look who's here!”
“Lyta, you remember I told you about Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams?” Rose said, looking at him skeptically. She was going to make this more difficult.
“What do you want?”
“He wants us to leave,” the spirit answered.
Rose took a protective step in front of her friend, the action reminding him of Penelope. “Why?”
“Because a ghost cannot escape his fate by hiding in The Dreaming. Nor can a living human being escape her grief here. Do you not see the damage your presence has done to this realm?” He asked looking up at the cracks that lined the ceiling. “I cannot allow you to stay.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“You belong with the dead. You must go to the place appointed for you.” He stated simply. “I’m sorry, but you must say your goodbyes now.”
“No,” Lyta whispered hoarsely. “I’m not losing you again.”
He watched the two embrace one another with a heavy heart. “I love you so much.”
The memory of Penelope’s soft smile and faint sensation of her warm naked body pressed against his filled him. “I love you.” He clenched his hands at his sides at the pain that the words caused him now.
“You’re not going anywhere.” She pressed a kiss to her husband's lips before looking up at him with tears and anger. “Get out of our house.”
Rose moved toward them, “Lyta.”
“Enough.” He waved his hand, banishing the spirit from his world.
“Tell the baby…”
“No. Please!”
Rose turned to him. “Stop.”
“Stop!” The painful echoes of her voice, desperate and pleading as he dragged her from her friend nearly made him halt his actions.
“Hector?”
“Dream, please, stop!
“Dream stop!” His heart ached, but he continued nonetheless.
“No! Hector! No…” Though he could see the woman weep, it was not her cries he heard. Penelope’s pains sobs and screams and begging was all around him. Filling his head with the noise and the fleeting feeling of her raw pain.
Dream forced himself to remain closed off. Forced the swell of emotions down into the pit of his stomach and spoke, “Your husband died a long time ago. He was a ghost and this is a dream. The baby is yours… for now.” One day the child would grow and it would do so with power. One day he would have to take it, teach it how to control whatever gifts the circumstances of its birth gave it.
“What do you mean?” She asked, hands clutching her stomach.
“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he said softly. Dream could have explained the situation, could have offered them some kind of answer, but he was tired. His thoughts and body still swirled with pain and the loss of the one person that could have been here… could have offered the kindness this woman wanted and deserved. “It is mine.”
Rose’s face twisted with shock and building anger. “What?”
“And one day I will come for it.”
“No you won’t,” Rose demanded. “You’ll do nothing-”
“This dream is over.” With a wave of his hand he was back in his throne room, looking up at the throne and the cracked glass. "If this is how you would choose to rule then you shall do it alone.”
“You killed my friend.” Rose’s voice startled him out of the dazed memory.
He turned, shocked. “How did you get here?”
“In front of his wife, and then you threaten to take her baby?”
“Do you know why this happened? A vortex gathering strength can weaken the walls between dreams.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Even so!” he shouted, anger rising in him.
She looked around the throne room. “Where’s the queen… Goddess… lady, whatever she is? She’d agree with me.”
He clenched his jaw. “She is not the ruler of this domain, I am.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “She left, didn’t she?”
“She is not your concern.”
“Yeah, well she becomes my concern when her absence is clearly causing you to lash out and be an asshole.” Rose argued. “Would you have treated her like you did Lyta?”
He wanted to say no, the word was right there on the tip of his tongue but it would have been a lie. In the past months his treatment of Penelope had been just as callous as his treatment of the human woman. He had offered her little or no explanation for his actions and simply expected her to bend to his command. He had expected her to settle into a place beneath him simply so he would not have to confront his own pained past. Dream would have doomed her to be lesser than him to satisfy his pride. “Rose…”
“No! I don’t want you coming near me or my friends ever again.”
“Rose, listen to me.”
“I do listen to you,” she said. “You said that a vortex can create universes or destroy them. So I suggest you leave my universe the fuck alone.”
“Rose-”
“This dream is over.”
His audible gasp echoed through the room as she vanished from his sight. This vortex was different, he could feel it, could feel there was something he was missing. He could consult Destiny on the matter, but it was unlikely his brother would share anything useful. Dream walked the palace halls, glad to see that Mervyn’s patches were finally beginning to mend and that the cracks were no longer spreading. The slight relief he felt was short lived as he walked out onto the bridge to find the sky still clouded with clouds and snow. Through the haze of falling white he could make out the quick shapes of butterflies hurrying down the familiar path toward the lake.
Had she returned? He followed quickly behind them, his heart falling even further into the doubt and sorrow he held as his eyes scanned the area only to find nothing. The lake had completely frozen over, the distant memories of her in it looking at him from over her shoulder, the feel of her skin beneath his hands, the gleam of trust and adoration in her eyes as she looked down at him. The butterflies swirled in the air, flying up into the only clear portion of the sky and vanishing from sight. It made sense that they would leave, their creator, their lady was gone from here and at present it seemed did not intend to return. This is my fault. He closed his eyes and turned away from the lake, moving back to his throne room to sit on the bottom steps.
If he closed his eyes long enough he could feel her leaning against him as she wove her threads. Phantom warmth filled the space around him as tears rolled down his cheeks. If he had only listened to her… had put aside his pride and jealousy and the need for control then she would still be sitting beside him. She would have been able to help keep The Dreaming intact long enough for him to handle the situation with Rose and Lyta more delicately. Everything would be better, as it always was, when she was here. When he opened his eyes a speck of green began to float across the room towards him. A butterfly? The last in The Dreaming.
The butterfly perched on his knuckles, beating its green wings softly against his skin. Dream watched the creature with watering eyes, curiosity filling him. "Why have you not also abandoned this world with all the others?"
Its wings fluttered quickly as it took flight once again, drifting slowly through the throne room.
"Dream."
The soft whisper of his name filled him with relief. Penelope, it was her calling out to him, he was certain. He would know her voice in a crowded room, would know it in pure chaos and by the vibration alone. Dream's feet carried him through The Dreaming, the green butterfly guiding him as he chased the sound of her. When he reached the edge of the pier darkness and silence surrounded him. The butterfly landed on the edge of the wood, waiting.
"Morpheus, please."
The depths, now mostly frozen over with ice beckoned him again softer than before, fleeting. He leaned over the edge, pressing his hand onto the frozen surface and willing it to melt beneath his palm. There in the reflection of the water he saw a flash of her bathed in dull light and clouds of smoke. "Penelope," he whispered as the water pulled him in.
The current was strong and angry, even if he'd wanted to fight against its pull Dream could not. He was dragged down deeper and deeper into the darkness of the water until red lights and noise echoed around him. Smoke clouded his vision and the constant clattering of cups clashing together filled his ears. A bar? As he moved through the mirage of the space his whole body halted, tensing at the sight before him.
In the far corner of the room Desire leaned against the wall. Through the mirror he saw they'd changed their form to replicate him. Their hands were on Penelope's hips, drifting up the length of her spine, twisting in her hair and pulling her head back. Pure rage filled him as he watched his sibling suck a dark angry red mark into the junction of her neck. Pure unrestrained jealousy joined it at the sound of her soft moans. Desire looked up, their eyes locking, and with a wide cheshire grin they winked at him before returning their lips to his beloved, his soul bound, his Queen.
Fists clenched and body seething with power he was back on the edge of the pier. The butterfly flew around him for a moment before perching on his shoulder. Dream waved his hands and the ice broke apart, water rising to reveal the steps below. He walked with shadows in his strides, the image of Desire's smile, their golden wink, burned into his mind as he walked towards the bar door. The red lights and the noise of the bar were drowned out as he saw Desire across the room, leaning back and waiting.
"Big brother, what a lovely surprise."
His voice was nothing more than a raging shadow as he took a step towards them, “What have you done?”
Desire smiled wider. “I’ve merely helped the poor little flower loosen up, dear Dream. She was quite difficult to seduce, it took all the focus and power I could muster to finally break through that ironclad mind of hers. Once I did, well, it was a lot easier to convince her that a few drinks and a few other… activities wouldn’t be so terrible to indulge in.”
“You manipulated her. You abused what little trust she put in you and you would dare to impersonate me?”
“Impersonate you?” Desire shrugged. “I merely took the shape she wanted me to.”
“Where. Is. She.”
They looked around, golden eyes wide in fake surprise. “Is she not here?”
Dream moved quickly, grabbing them by the throat and slamming them back into the mirror on the wall, shattering it instantly. “ENOUGH! Where is my queen?!”
“Queen?” they asked. “Don’t go making promises you can’t keep, dear brother.”
His hand squeezed tighter, “Where?”
“Gone,” their smile didn’t wane, even as he squeezed their throat hard enough to make them choke a little. Their eyes dulled with a tiny speck of fear. That small shred of emotion kept him from going too far, from breaking their neck entirely. “She was in quite a hurry, probably trying to get a head start to flee your ire, big brother.”
She was afraid of him? His behavior toward her had not been ideal, he recognized that now, but he’d done nothing to her that would have made her afraid of him. Morpheus let Desire go and turned away from them quickly, eyes locking onto the glowing exit sign across the room. He turned his head slightly back towards them, sending them a cold glare. “If you ever touch her again it will be the last thing you do, family or not.”
"Cute isn't it?" They purred, retaking their lounging seat. "Even high as a kite on god knows what… Even after everything you did, her greatest desire was still you." Dream clenched his fists, not bothering to turn back to them as he walked forward. "Or… Perhaps it's sad, all things considered."
He kept moving toward the exit, shoving people out of his way and slamming the door open so hard it nearly tore off the hinges. Frantic eyes looked around the empty alley and parking lot. "PENELOPE!"
There was no answer to his call, nothing but the faintest echoes of her presence lingering in the cold. The green butterfly flew from his shoulder and into the night sky. He had to find her. If his sibling had influenced her enough that she’d been lost to the haze of drugs and alcohol she would be in danger. She’d never spoken on it fully, but he knew the dark and complicated history she had with the substances after all her years relying on them at the asylum.
Dream moved, following the faint feeling of her energy, with haste all the while scolding himself for ever allowing this to be possible. If he had just listened… If he had just treated her the way she deserved, the way he longed to, then this night would be different. She would be safe at home, curled in his sheets and in his arms. He had to find her.
***
The trail of energy had gone cold, leaving Dream in the middle of the city, blindly moving between bars and nightclubs looking for any sign of her. He stood in Hob Gadling's living room just as the man had gotten home, likely from the inn. Once he walked into the sight of Dream in his dark living room he let out a startled shout and held a hand on his chest. “God damn you. If I wasn’t immortal you could’ve killed me.”
“Have you seen Penelope?”
Hob made a face, containing his emotions as if he’d just remembered something. “I did. A few nights ago she came and stayed with me.”
Dream took a half step forward. “Is she coming back? Do you know where she is?”
“I don’t know where she is,” he admitted leaning against the doorframe. “We ran by some office space or something and then she left. I haven’t heard from her since.”
He took in his friends frown and the way he crossed his arms and sighed. “Are you angry with me, Hob?” Like everyone else in this universe?
The man nodded. “A bit. When a girl like that comes knocking on my door in the dead of night, crying out in the cold rain, I’m going to be a bit cross.”
“Did she tell you what happened?” He asked softly.
“No. But it was pretty obvious it had something to do with you.” Hob tapped his foot. “So, if you came here hoping I’d snitch and tell you where to find her you’re out of luck.”
“I need to find her,” Dream said, the urge to pull his hair out growing by the second as he paced in Hobs apartment. The action seemed to speak the words he could not.
Hob shoved away from the wall and stopped his movements. “Is she in trouble?”
He nodded. “One of my siblings has… That doesn’t matter, what’s important is she’s wandering the city, drunk and possibly drugged. I need to find her before anything happens.”
Without another word Hob Gadling grabbed his coat and gestured toward the door. “I know a few spots we can check, or we can split up. We’d cover more ground that way.”
“Thank you, Hob,” he said as the two walked out into the dark.
For a while they stayed together, moving through the city and checking places Hob suggested, but when an hour of nothing had passed they split up. Dream was wandering the crowded streets when he felt a low hum of her presence fill the air. He followed the trail to a rooftop and then down the street and finally into another bar. There were a few people here, mostly older and nearly passed out drunk. He approached the bar where the half empty drink sat swirling with the energy of his lady.
He sighed, setting his hands on the bar. Through the mirror behind the bar he saw the drunkard beside him sat up straighter, no grow taller? "You just missed her by… Twenty minutes! That's pretty close."
Dream froze. He knew that voice. No. Surely it was some trick or perhaps he'd gotten drunk somehow. There was no way his brother was sitting beside him, not after nearly two centuries of being missing and untraceable. He looked up into the mirror to see his brother's reflection. At last he turned his head and sure enough Destruction sat beside him, ordering a drink before sending him a smile.
This wasn't possible. He had been missing, he had disappeared with little warning and no contact since their last family dinner. This was an illusion. One of Desires games no doubt. The image of his brother took a sip of the brightly colored drink and hummed in approval before setting the glass down on the counter and slapping the back of his head. The hit sent his head forward, nearly slamming him into the bar. Pain rattled through his skull as he groaned. No, this was his brother. No human or illusion would have such strength.
"Oh," he said with a nervous chuckle and a polite rub to his shoulder. "Sorry bout that, brother."
"Destruction?" He asked softly, head still spinning as his brother guided him to sit in the stool beside him.
The hearty laughter of his brother was something that brought him both joy and unearthed unhealed pain. "What's up brother? Breaking hearts just like before? Always the old romantic, eh?"
Dream watched his brother with wide and teary eyes. "Destruction?"
"It's me, Morpheus. In the flesh, or, well, not really but close enough."
"Why?" He breathed out. "Why now after all these years?"
His brother's rich eyes grew sad. "Because you needed me. Both of you did." He looked around the bar and smiled fondly. "She always knew how to pick the best drinking spots."
"Penelope, you said she was here."
"She was."
"Where did she go? Is she alright?"
"Breathe brother, she's safe. Death will be taking care of it by now."
"Death?" All breath left his lungs and he nearly collapsed out of his chair.
Destruction cleared his throat. "Oh no! Not like that! She's alive. Deaths just… Enlisting the help of a friend to get her to call it quits on the bender."
Dream breathed again, closing hospital eyes and gripping the bar tight. "Why are you here then and not with her?"
"It's not likely she'll to want to see me," he said with a sad sigh. "Penelope is good at holding a grudge. And after what I did, I can't blame her. But anger isn't what she needs right now. Besides, I wanted to see you."
"Why did you leave?" He asked after a long moment of silence.
Destruction gestured around them. "I wanted to be more than my function. More than the pain and violence and hideousness that humanity wrought through me. I wanted to simply be. After wandering around for a while I heard a rumor about your capture and about some mortal soul bound to you. So I came here and found Penelope." He laughed. "I was determined to keep her safe for you, but in reality she kept me safe. She made me realize that I wanted nothing to do with the destruction in this world. She made me want to be Olethros, the friend she thought I was."
"You cannot just abandon your function the world-"
"The world has done just fine without me at the helm. The humans continue to create things to destroy, hell they continue to destroy things on their own. My function continues, but this way I do not have to shoulder the burden of their actions and creations." Destruction sighed. "I didn't come here to fight with you, brother. I came to offer you advice on your current situation with a certain woman."
Dream sighed, he had so many questions for his brother, but Penelope mattered more. "I am listening, brother."
He smiled. "Stop getting in your own way. Penelope doesn't want to control you or replace you, she just wants you. In the time I spent with her I'd never felt more seen. It's like that girl has her own personal window into your soul and it's scary, but… She never once tried to use me or press me for more information than I was willing to give. She's good, better than anyone I've met."
"Is that why you gave her pieces of your power?"
"The daggers? She still has those?" He watched his brother both smile and grow saddened. "I wanted to leave her with something, a piece no matter how small, of myself to wield in her defense… And in yours."
"Mine?"
"Maybe it's silly, but I hoped that through them I could, by extension, keep you safe. An apology for leaving and for not coming to free you."
Morpheus felt the old pain of his brother's loss lessen a bit. Though he didn't understand his reasons for leaving he could respect that he was here now, offering him the kindness that he'd been lacking the past few months. More so, he could respect the fact that he protected his lady in the years he could not and had wished to help him even in some small way. He set a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I've missed you."
"And I you." He took another drink and nodded toward the door. "You gonna go after her?"
"Of course. She's my lady," Dream answered.
Destruction nodded. "Good. Just remember, even if you don't find her tonight. She'll come back. She always does."
He stood, moving toward the door before turning back to his brother, only to find a drunkard in his place. Dream smiled a little and paid for the man's drinks before returning to follow Penelope's trail. He walked across the bridge, looking at the bench that was swirling with her and then continued until the street grew familiar. Looking up to the apartment with the lights on he sighed, both relieved and worried. Constantine.
The apartment was even more of a disaster than he remembered, but there on the couch Johanna Constantine sat with her arms crossed and her eyes trained on him. "You want to explain why I got a call tonight from a very upset and very drunk immortal?"
"Is she here?"
The Constantine rolled her eyes but nodded. "No thanks to you."
Relief filled him. "May I?"
"No." She answered. "You're the cause of this mess."
"Which is why I wish to rectify it."
"You have two minutes, sandman." She said seething with rage. "Then your ass is gone."
She led him to the door and then both of them stood staring at the empty bed. The room was empty, the only trace of her was the unkept sheets and old clothes on the floor. He sighed. "I suppose I should have expected this."
Constantine picked her clothes up from the floor. "I just hope she's safe. She was not in a good spot when I found her."
"Did she say anything to you about where else she might've gone?"
"No." She sent him a glare. "You better fix it, whatever it is you did. Or I swear I'll find a way to kill you. Pen doesn't deserve any more bullshit."
"On that we agree," he said softly. "Goodbye, Constantine."
"Yeah yeah just get out."
Dream returned to Hob Gadling and called off the search. Penelope was not in the Waking World, if she were he'd be able to trace her steps. But her old room had been the final place she visited. Though it pained him to know he'd not found her, he found himself hoping she had gone home.
***
Back in The Dreaming he was disappointed to find the bed empty and sought out Lucienne. Perhaps she did return and was with the librarian, and if not… Well he still owed his most loyal friend an apology. He stood in the library, beside Lucienne’s empty desk. “Lucienne?”
“My lord. There’s something I must tell you.” She came around the corner quickly.
“And I will listen. But, first, you must let me tell you that… you were right.” He said softly, noticing immediately how her eyes looked up at him with light and hope renewed inside them. “First, you were right to be angry with me over Penelope’s absence from The Dreaming, it was my fault. I did not act as I should have toward her. And then… The vortex was responsible for the damage to our realm, and I was… wrong to risk our safety in the hope that she would locate the missing Arcana.”
“You were not entirely wrong, sir. She’s found them both.”
“What? The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green? Where? How do you know?”
“Fiddler’s Green told me.” She looked over to the shelves she’d emerged from moments ago and there, Fiddler’s Green appeared in the form of a human with a gray cloak and mustache.
He bowed. “Apologies, lord, for having left.”
“Why?” He asked, voice nearly cracking with the pain he felt. “Why did you leave? I trusted you. You were the heart of The Dreaming.”
“No, sir. You were the heart of The Dreaming. And you were gone. I was curious. And it turns out that life as a human contains substance I never even imagined when I was here.” He sounded so hopeful, so vibrant, even more than he had all those years ago. “Which is why I’ve returned because… he’s murdering them.”
“The Corinthian?” It wasn’t shocking to learn of his nightmares recklessness.
Fiddler’s Green nodded, face twisting in disgust. “He appears to have built up a cult of worshipers who kill for pleasure endangering the Waking World and the life of a friend called Rose Walker.”
“The Corinthian has found Rose Walker?”
“Yes.”
Lucienne shook her head. “Can you imagine the damage he could do with someone like Rose?”
“You must tell me where they are.”
“Of course, my lord! They’re at a place called The Royal Empire Hotel.”
Dream looked back to Lucienne and sighed. “If she returns, tell her to wait for me. Please?”
His librarian nodded with a smile. “I will, my lord.”
Dream wasted no time, teleporting to the hotel, to The Corinthian. He stood in the center of the room, full chairs on either side of him with the people… the monsters his nightmare had created. The Corinthian stood at the podium in the middle of a speech. “We are gladiators, conquerors. We are explorers, truth seekers. We are swashbucklers. We are hunters. Soldiers of fortune.” The Corinthian turned his head, meeting Dreams' cold gaze. “And kings of the night.”
“You disappoint me, Corinthian. You and these humans you’ve inspired and created… disappoint me.”
“I’ve done my best to be what you made me.” He answered stiffly.
“No, you’ve done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped. You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront.”
He shook his head as he turned to face him. “That’s what I am. That’s what I’ve done.”
“No. Look at you, walking the Earth for over a century infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all.”
“So what now?” He demanded. “You drag me back to The Dreaming and send me back into their dreams?” A cold, twisted laugh echoed in the room as he shook his head. “I won’t go. And unlike you, I brought friends.”
Dream could feel the presence of something, dark and old and angry in the building, but he couldn’t place where it was or what it wanted from his nightmare. “It matters not who stands with you. The outcome will be the same.”
The Corinthian laughed. “You haven’t changed, Dream. For a minute she almost had me convinced, your lady.”
He had met her? Dream felt a pang of fear pulse through him at the thought of Penelope in the nightmares' hands. “Where is she?”
“I have no clue,” he said with a smile. “But she seemed like quite the woman. She seemed like she would have been twice the ruler you are, and if you don’t know where she is I can only assume it’s because you drove her out like you do everything else. And now, here you are…” he gestured around them. “Here you are, alone, just as you've always been… As you always will be."
"He's not alone." Dream’s entire body flooded with her. The smell of lilac and peony and rain, the tingle of delight he felt at hearing her voice, the absolute relief and regret that filled him as she slid in front of him.
TW: emotional distress, guilt, blood, violence, choking, needles, non-consensual surgical procedures (not described in depth), depictions of death and decomposition, confrontations, trust issues, feelings of doubt, smut (rough kissing, ripping clothes, biting, penetration, a surrender of control), arguments, harsh words, ANGST
Buckle up guys this ones a doozy!
Morpheus.
Dream of the Endless.
I invoke your name.
I held the ring in the palm of my hand, watching as the moonstone cracked each time I sent out the desperate plea. My heart tightened painfully as I forced myself to speak again. "Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, I invoke your name."
Silence, deafening and cold swirled around me. The mark was filled with phantom sensations, fleeting anger and pain. With each passing hour the ugly, dreadful fear itching at the back of my mind grew stronger and stronger. He hates you. The thoughts told me. After what you said, can you blame him? My hands shook more. He's abandoned you, just like all the others. "Morpheus… Dream, please!"
Another crack spread across the stone and I let out a quiet, strangled sob. "I invoke your name! Morpheus! You promised you'd come…" I curled my fingers tightly around the ring, holding it against my chest. "Don't leave me here. You promised…"
"Still pleading, my dear?" His voice, old and smug, sent chills up my spine and forced my body to tighten uncomfortably. "From the little I've heard of the great King of Dreams, he'll not be coming to save you."
I clenched my jaw painfully tight. "Then you know very little about him."
The coughing fit filled the room, echoing off the walls of the glass cage that held me. "He does not owe you anything. No law binds him to aid you. The simple fact, my dear, is you are nothing to him."
Nothing. It was pathetic, how such a simple word could send my mind spiraling so quickly into the carefully carved chains he'd spent six years constructing for me. I could recognize the absurdity of it, could recognize that it was just a word and yet I fell anyway. I let the chains of the word shackle me without a fight, dread and hopelessness filling my lungs with each breath I took. Nothing.
"It doesn't have to be like this." The softness of his voice made it sound like a sincere statement. "We need not be enemies."
"You plan to rip me open and tear me apart from the inside, all for your own vanity." I spat, refusing to even look at him. "Tell me in what world would such things be done by friends?"
"You always had such a limited view on things. My dear, you need only cooperate and my research can be done without resorting to such senseless violence." He coughed a bit more, drawing in a few deep breaths before speaking again, "I need only a few hours of collection and then you'd be able to heal and do as you wished until the next procedure."
Do not bend to those unworthy.It is there stained hands that seek to tear your wings from your back and watch you crawl and wither. The words offered me little comfort, but helped me lift my head higher as I replied, "To live within the confines of this horrible place while you and your fanatics play god… No. I'd rather die."
"Then it seems your own foolishness demands blood." He said coldly. "I had hoped that after The Marquis you'd see reason." Tears streamed down my cheeks as I clamped my eyes shut. "He died because of you, after all, died for nothing."
Nothing. The freezing cold emptiness grew until only the ring in my hands held any warmth. You are nothing. "Fuck you."
With a weak click of his tongue the wheels of his chair scraped against the floor. "It will all be over soon, my dear. And once I have what I need… Well, I'll try to make the end quick."
The door closed and the empty room flooded with my quiet sobs. "Morpheus…" Useless. "Dream of the Endless…" Mortal. "I invoke your name." He hates you. "Please…" He owes you nothing. "Please come." Nothing. "You promised."
You are nothing.
Hours turned into days, trapped within the confines of the glass cage. Hunger and thirst clawed at my body, but I did not relent. During the day the room was full of people, all exchanging files and photos and planning on what part of my body needed to be harvested first. I tried to use the threads, but whatever magic they'd used to bring me here had cut me off. I could see them, the tangled and knotted fraying threads of faded color, not black but something else, something wrong. Dark mist plumed around each thread, filling the air with the pungent tang of twisted magic.
They'd cut larger holes in the glass for their hands to gather blood samples and administer drugs. Blood stained my dress and the glass beneath me from the fingers and flesh they'd lost each time one of them dared to get close. My mind was hazy from the mild drugs they had managed to give me, but still I refused to bend. I quietly repeated the words, clutching onto the ring even as it began to crumble in my hands. Day after day the doctor returned, asking me for cooperation and day after day I refused.
Normally it would have been impossible to tell just how long I'd been poked and prodded at, but the doctor was more than happy to remind me of how long I'd been here… How long my call had gone unanswered. Nine days. Nine days of starvation and dehydration. Nine days of cramped muscles and aches. Nine days of bloody fights against their testing. Nine days of needles and drugs and missing patches of skin. Nine days of pleading.
When they did finally cut me from the glass cage on the tenth day I did not go quietly. Even with my blurred vision and heavy limbs I left my cage with fire and force. In one hand I held what remained of the moonstone ring and with the other I tore chunks of hair from those closest to me, scratched and clawed and bit any that tried to grab me. It was a fine attempt, but when The Bull walked through the doors and shoved his way to the front my fight shifted from one of futile survival to one of vengeance. If this was to be my final stand I was going to take the bastard down with me.
His arms and neck were scarred by the flames he had doomed my Pierre to, but he still had the nerve to smile at me. Everything in me roared to life as I grabbed one of the saws they used to breach the glass and lunged at him. I dug the serrated blade into his chest, forcing it as deep as it could go while he wrapped his hand around my throat and threw me against the wall. I could feel the bones snap inside me, but I didn't care, I just pushed the saw blade deeper and deeper as my throat constricted under his hand.
"Dominic," the doctor called out just as the black spots had begun to fill my vision. "We need her alive."
His hand loosened but the unfiltered desire in his eyes didn't. "Apologies, Doctor Shenton."
He held me still while they stuck me full of needles, pumping the all too familiar cocktail of drugs into my veins. My head swam, shapes and shadows twisting in my eyes like they'd all melted and my already weak body went limp as they laid me down on the stiff cot. The wheels squeaked as they pushed the cot through the doors, blinding white light filling my vision and then white walls glistening and twisted with faces rolled past me. Laughter, faint and manic echoed down one of the halls and as we rolled past I could have sworn I saw red hair twisted with rainbows. De…
My heart hammered in my chest as my eyes darted around, the sounds of the other patients echoing in my ears. The doorknobs giggled and cackled as we passed, whispering incoherent words. White walls, endless halls, pools of blood and bone. Doors rattled and slammed as the other patients grew louder, restless. White walls, endless halls, screams and wails consume you. The sound of gloves being donned and medical carts clanging with tools filled the air when we finally reached the too familiar surgical room. White walls, endless halls, nothing can save you now.
Every sound echoed in my ears as they cut away the fine fabric of my gown, tearing my necklaces off and tossing them into a tray. Red blood on every floor. Red walls painted over. Tears stung my eyes as they strapped my limp arms to the table, their hushed voices full of excitement and anticipation. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.
Sucking in a shaking breath I made one final plea, clenching the remnants of the ring, the only piece of home, of myself, I had left. "Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, I invoke your name." A weak sob left me. "Please… answer my call."
The doctor's smile came into view beside my head as he smoothed a frail shaking hand down my cheek. My body curled at the feeling of his touch, but no matter how hard I tried to move, to thrash against the restraints I couldn't. "He's not coming, my dear. No one is."
My whole body shook. I closed my eyes tightly. "Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, I invoke your name. Bring them fear and darkness. Show them the King of Nightmares."
There was no answer, no feeling through the bond, there was nothing. I felt the moonstone ring finally shatter into dust in my palm as they secured the muzzle over my mouth. He didn't answer. The pain of the drill cutting through my skin burned with the hollow echoes of the past, but it didn't hurt, not when all I could feel was the crushing pain that filled me as the reality set in.
He wasn't coming.
***
"Morpheus."
"Dream of the Endless."
"I invoke your name."
He heard her voice calling to him, heard the desperation in every soft whisper of his name. All that he could feel of her was fear and pain and an unmistakable, undeniable thought that filled his lungs with regret and guilt. "He hates you." He knew his words had been cruel, knew that he'd hurt her... But had it been so bad that she thought he hated her? Morpheus searched, chasing the echoes of her soft pleas, but he found nothing. There was no sign of her in the Waking World, no trace of where they'd taken her.
"Please. Please come."
Dreams' hands tightened painfully at his sides as he stared down at the spot she had stood before vanishing from his side, slipping from his fingers once again. He replayed their argument over and over in his mind, the image of her flame filled eyes, eyes he'd seen aimed at so many others turned on him, scorching him to the bone.
"You promised."
He felt Lucienne's presence before she spoke. "Is there any word?"
"No, my lord. I'm afraid there's not." Her voice was soft, sorrowful. "Everyone has looked high and low but they've found nothing."
"Keep searching." He ordered, turning to look at the sad face of his librarian. "I'll not abandon her."
She bowed her head. "Of course, my lord."
Morpheus sighed, his eyes returning to the spot she stood in just days ago. His mind filled with the vile words he'd used against her, the words that made her so certain that he hated her. Closing his eyes and letting the tears slide down his cheeks he listened to the sound of her voice as she continued to brokenly call out to him.
"Please… answer my call."
"Brother, I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil." Destiny? "Will you come to my garden and speak with me?"
Dream quickly steeled his emotions and moved to answer. "Of course, brother."
The garden was uncharacteristically dark as he entered Destiny's gallery. He sat at the head of the long table, as he always did, but this time Death stood beside him. She offered him a sad smile. "How are you holding up, little brother?"
He chose to ignore her question, instead getting to the point of this odd encounter. "Why have you called me here?"
Destiny looked down at the open book. "So you can do your duty."
Dreams' eyes narrowed at the words. He never involved himself in any conflict when humans were involved. "Why?"
"It is written. Those that have stolen your soul bound, taken my Weaver, have upset the laws of the universe and caused imbalance within our world."
Death had moved to his side, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, offering what comfort she could. "What these scientists are doing… What they've already done it's changed them, twisted them into something unnatural. They're dangerous now in a way that demands action."
"You are involving yourself in this matter?" He asked his brother.
"By proximity," he answered. "I will tell you where they are, where she is, so you and our sister can right this wrong."
Dream turned to Death, eyes wide with shock and hope. "You would stand beside me? You would kill them?"
Death sighed. "I know humanity fears my gift and many have fought against it over the years, but I come to them all in the end. These creatures have not only refused my gift, but have performed horrible acts to your beloved, my future sister, to do so. I can no longer endure seeing them do it without being justly punished."
"I thank you my sister," he said softly. "And you, brother."
"I'm just doing what's demanded of me," Destiny said, closing his book. But in a softer voice he said, "And what is right by Penelope."
Dream straightened his back. "Where is she?"
Destiny stood, moving to join him and Death. "They have not left the asylum. Using the same book Roderick Burgess did to ensnare you, they've fortified it, shielded it from view. You will need your strongest nightmares to pierce the barrier."
For a moment Dream allowed himself to miss The Corinthian, his greatest and most powerful creation. Having him at his side now would ensure that this would end quickly, would ensure that Penelope would return home safely, but he forced the feelings of betrayal and regret down into him and nodded. "They are ready."
His brother placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go then. Right this wrong."
Death followed him to The Dreaming and stood by his side as he gathered his army of shadows and fear and ruin. Turning his head he regarded his sister's sorrow. "Are you ready?"
With a nod she took hold of his hand. "No, but I will do what I must."
"Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, I invoke your name. Bring them fear and darkness. Show them the King of Nightmares." As her final call echoed around them followed by her screams Morpheus slid his helm over his head, his eyes filling with the view of the asylum.
It was nightmares she asked of him and it would be nightmares he delivered. When they arrived outside the empty dark field Dream was filled with a cool tempered rage as the hum of the magic binding this place rolled over his skin. The nightmares of smoke and shadow slammed against the thin barrier, clawing at it with their talons until they at last tore through it. The veil baring it from the sight of the Endless rippled as it fell and the dark brick building came into view.
The mark on Dreams arm blazed, flooding with every thought, plea and feeling of hers that had been denied him over the last ten days. Penelope's anguish nearly made his knees buckle as the screams mingled with her cries for his help filled him. Death steadied him with her arm as he looked to his nightmares with a dark and foreboding command. "Consume their every thought. Show them the power of dreams and darkness but leave the doctor… Leave Elias Shenton untouched."
They moved through the shadows of the night, slipping into the asylum and filling it with the screams of the white coats instead of their victims. Dream and Death walked through the front door, greeted with a hallway full of dazed and terrified faces. Death placed her hand on their shoulders, offering them one final moment of peace before the life faded from them, the bodies of those that had cheated his sister's gift for too long decayed instantly beneath her hand.
As they moved through the space, Death looked at the bodies that littered the ground and sighed. "It saddens me greatly to know that some fear my gift so much they'd go to such lengths."
"They have been greatly misguided to reject your gift in this manner my sister," Dream said, hoping his words would bring his sister some relief. Death's remorse was palpable in the air, but she never once faltered in her duty and Dream found himself glad that his sister was at his side, keeping his rage in check as they came to the door. He felt the mark pull him forward. He felt the quick, panicked, beating of her heart. But it was the muffled noises of pain, choked words and screams that made him open the door.
One of his nightmares hovered over the surgical cot, engulfing Penelope's body in misty storm clouds and letting loose a bestial screech of thunder aimed at the now cowering associates of the doctor. Blood dropped idly off the sides of the table, the dripping sound all he could hear. There in the corner, hunched in his chair sat Elias Shenton, smiling up at him. He dares meet my eyes? Dream thought coldly. He dares smile as if he's won?
As Dream took a step forward the nightmare moved away from the body of his lady and his blood ran cold in his veins at the sight of her. He slid the helm from his head, handing it to the nightmare as he stood beside her. She was shaking, fists clenched and bound at her sides and her abdomen half cut open with holes drilled into her flesh. Blood pooled in her palm, shattered pieces of her moonstone ring grinding into dust and piercing deep into the skin. His eyes slid up her pale form until at last he looked upon her face. Half conscious, tear filled eyes looked at him past the muzzle, and a muffled sob met his ears. With soft gentle hands he pulled her arms free of the ties and slowly lifted the muzzle away from her face.
"You're here," her voice was weak as she looked up at him. "You came."
He stroked the tears from her cheeks and whispered, "Of course I am. You called."
She breathed out a sob as Death came to his side, smoothing her hair from her face. Her tired eyes met his as she asked, "Will you help me?"
Dream knew what she meant as he spared a dark glance up at Elias. "Always."
***
The pain had been excruciating as I helplessly cried out against the muzzle and clenched my hands so tightly I could feel the jagged pieces of the ring puncture the skin along with my nails. My eyes grew heavier and heavier as I felt my grasp on the conscious world beginning to slip. A loud crash of thunder filled the room and a hand of swirling black clouds and lightning tore every last one of the people holding blades away from me. When the darkness of the storm clouds overtook my vision I thought I'd finally passed out, died even, but there in the midst of the storm two eyes formed and the structure of a face followed.
The dark figure's head bowed slightly. "Do not be afraid, my lady. The Dream Lord has heard your call and his army of nightmares has answered."
Relief filled my chest as the cold mist of the nightmares clouds washed over me. I didn't know how long I lay in the comforting embrace of darkness before the door opened and his power rolled over me, shaking the room around it. The darkness slid away and through my hazy teary vision I saw the strong silhouette of his helm as the lean black of his body moved to my side. He removed the helm and took the last step toward me, his glowing eyes focusing on every new cut, slowly sliding up my body and settling on my eyes.
I cried harder as his soft cold hands released me of the ties and pulled the muzzle away from my mouth. Through soft gasping sobs I somehow managed to speak. "You're here… You came."
Morpheus filled with remorseful pain as he brushed his fingers against my cheek and answered, "Of course I am. You called."
"Will you help me?" It was all I could say, and luckily he knew exactly what I meant. I nearly sobbed as Death smiled gently down at me, smoothing her warm hand over my hair. This had to be the end of the doctor, his associates and all the horrors they brought with them. I needed to end this. For the Stewards, Isabel, Pierre, all of them.
"Always," he said, turning his dark gaze to the corner where the doctor sat smiling.
Dream waved his hand, wrapping the wounds I had and helped me up off the table onto my shaking legs. Death wrapped a warm, soft blanket around me and helped ease me into Dreams' waiting arms. It hurt, every movement, but I forced myself to turn, to move in front of the old man. "It appears I've underestimated you, my dear."
"It would seem so."
"Now what?" He asked with a chuckle. "You bury those famous blades of yours in my throat and go on about your life? You at last kill me as you swore to do hundreds of times over the years?"
With a quick shake of my head I sighed. "No. Not yet."
He coughed, the smile only growing. "Don't have the stomach now? After all those threats?"
I willed the threads up, weak and strained as it made me, and looked at his hideous frayed dull thread. "I want you to feel it. Every second of pain you caused, not just mine, but that of all those you tore apart… All those you ordered to die… Every last person you hurt."
Holding his weak thread in my silver wrapped hand I Iet the cold frost fill my palm. I watched it spread up his thread and twist around his hands, the cold swirling with the memories of not just my pain but the pain that haunted the very foundation of this place. His face twisted in agony and fear as I pushed the memories through the thread and into him. The Steward family flashed in the cold, then Isabel and last Pierre. My pain poured into the thread as tears slid down my cheeks.
Blood ran down the doctor's nose as he coughed and wheezed out silent screams. Every inch of his frail decrepit body shook and writhed as blood began spilling from between his lips. It only took two or three minutes but when I was certain he'd known the pain, felt every last second of it, I squeezed the frozen thread in my palm until it snapped and said, "Now this world is finally free of you, Elias."
He choked and twitched, clumps of his skin decaying straight off his bones as all his stolen life left him. I stood, staring for a moment longer, an odd sense of apprehension and relief filling my lungs full of air as he stayed dead. The threads fell away and I began to fall with them as the pain grew too great. Dream's cold arms wrapped around me and he lifted me up, holding me tightly against him. Death pressed a kiss to my head and the soothing night sky of The Dreaming filled my vision as I faded into unconsciousness.
***
The Bulls heavy footsteps echoed through the lifeless halls of the crumbling asylum. He looked down at the decay and death that surrounded him with an uncaring gaze, but when he finally found Elias he couldn’t help but smile. "Well I'll be damned, the little bitch actually did it."
He stood for a moment, admiring her handy work before the gloomy presence filled the room. The dark feminine voice asked, "Had your fill?"
"I spent eighty years held back by his foolish ideals and morals." The Bull kicked the wheelchair over and nodded. "Yeah, I've had my fill."
"Great!" The man's cheerful yet equally dark voice echoed off the walls as he leaned in the doorway with a lopsided grin. "You ready to finally have some fun?"
The Bull reached down to one of the fresher bodies, plucking the eyes out of the girl's sockets and handing them to his companion with a newfound sense of joy and anticipation for the hunt. "More than ready."
***
Soft silk caressed my body as I twisted and turned, the pain only just starting to dull as the wounds stitched themselves back together. It was always uncomfortable, but the warm hands that gently stroked my arms and combed through my hair eased the feeling considerably. When I finally managed to open my eyes Death’s face was bathed in the rainbow of the stained glass windows. A weak gasp left my dry throat as I looked around the room, Dreams room. I was home.
As I moved to sit up, Death helped me. “Slowly, your body heals quickly, but you’re still hurting.”
The hazy memories of what had happened slowly grew clearer and clearer. The doctor… Elias Shenton was dead. I looked at Death with a weak smile. “How long have I been out?”
“A day, almost two.” She said and as if she could predict my next question she continued, “Cain stitched your wounds, Abel helped as best he could. Merv stopped by for a bit to check in. Lucienne has been running back and forth between you and the library and Matthew-”
“Has been sitting right here since they brought you back,” the raven interrupted, hopping down onto the sheets beside me. “How you feeling Penny?”
I lifted a slightly shaky hand to smooth down his feathers. “I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.”
Matthew sighed, resting his small head in my hand. “Don’t ever do that again. You scared us. The whole of The Dreaming went into a frenzy trying to find you.”
“Where’s…” I hesitated, looking back up at Death. “Where's Dream?”
“He stayed with you all night,” she told me with a soft smile. “This morning when you started coming too he left, grumbling about needing to work.”
I sighed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Death moved closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and squeezing me into her warm side. For a moment the world of threads hummed to life, the bright comforting light of her glowing white thread seeping into my body where her hands touched me. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it was has really got him in his moping mood.”
“We had an argument,” I admitted freely. “We both said some pretty terrible things. And then immediately after I got sucked into a glass fishbowl and tortured for nine days… So yeah…"
"Just because you two are bound together doesn't mean you're not going to fight. Dream is stubborn and hard headed. He thinks his way is the only way. You, while just as hard headed and stubborn, are an open book. You aren't afraid to say what you feel and you're open minded."
I fiddled with my fingers, gently running the tips along the bandages. "He hates me."
Death turned, looking down around me with furrowed brows. "You don't really think that, do you?"
Tears welled in my eyes as I shrugged. "I don't know."
"Oh, Penelope," she whispered. "He doesn't hate you. It's just… This is new for him. He doesn't do well with change, he'll fight it and deny it until he's blue in the face. I know it probably feels like you've both taken a huge step back from where you were, but it's just the opposite. You've opened him up, forced him to acknowledge feelings he's been running from and denying for centuries. I know it's hard and I know he hurt you. Just give him time… Give both of yourselves time. You'll find a way through this together, I know it."
"Thank you," I said softly. "For listening, and for coming for me."
"You should be thanking Destiny. If he hadn't called and told us where you were we might not have made it in time." She admitted. "Besides Dream and his nightmares did most of the heavy lifting, I just did my job."
I held her hand tightly. "I know how difficult it must have been for you. Thank you, Death."
She pressed a kiss to my head and stood. "As much as I'd love to stay, I've got work to do."
"You're by far the busiest of the Endless," I said with a smile. "Will I be seeing you again?"
"Maybe," she chuckled. "Bye Penelope."
"Bye Death, don't be a stranger."
Once the warmth of her faded from the room the threads forced their way back to the surface with a sharp pain in my head. Pressing a hand to it with a wince I sighed. Matthew's weight shifted beside me. "You okay?"
I waited for the pain to dwindle before answering, "Yeah. Just a thread headache. It's probably from coming off all those drugs."
"You're not gonna vanish right?" He asked, the threads blinding me for a moment as I turned to look down at him.
The changing thread glowed strong against the white. Green with tiny tints of orange. I offered him a smile. "No, I'm fine on that front. Your colors come in by the way."
He sat up straighter. "Oh? Is it bad? It's bad isn't it? I mean I can't say I'm surprised I-"
"It's fine, Matthew." I laughed a little. "Green with a little bit of orange."
"And that's good?"
"I think so. Everyone I've seen with green threads was a good person at heart. It symbolizes change, or at least that's my best guess. Pierres thread was orange and everything I've read about it has been positive so I'm pretty sure you're good."
He sighed with a relieved chuckle. "I gotta say I'm a little relieved. When you told me I lost color I thought I was dying again or something!"
"I think Dreams tendency for dramatics is rubbing off on you."
"Probably," he agreed. "Speaking of the boss, what are you gonna say?"
There was so much that needed to be said between us. He had started it, had let whatever feelings he'd kept hidden from me fuel the outburst of anger, but I too had responded with fire. We were both wrong and had both hurt one another. "I don't know."
"Death's right, you know," he said. "You two had a fight, a pretty bad one yeah, but that doesn't mean you don't love each other."
"I know."
"You’ll work it out," the raven assured me. "Knowing the boss it’s not gonna be easy, but if anyones gonna get through that thick head it’s you.”
A soft knock on the door echoed and Lucienne tentatively entered, a bright smile replacing the worried furrowing of her brows as she saw me. “My lady!” She called out, rushing to my side and pulling me gently into a hug. “We’ve been so worried!”
I pressed myself into her embrace and breathed in the smell of books. “I’m sorry.”
She pulled away, examining me closely. “You’re home now, that’s all that matters.”
“Have you spoken to him?” I asked after a stiff moment of silence.
Lucienne nodded, a sad look filling her eyes. “Lord Morpheus has been busying himself with the search for the missing nightmares. He asked that I keep a close eye on you in his stead.”
Of course he did. It was just like him to act avoidant of me, while simultaneously keeping tabs on me every second he was gone. I moved my legs off the edge of the bed and groaned as Lucienne helped me to my feet. “Where is he?”
“My lady…” she began.
“He doesn’t get to avoid me,” I said sternly. “He doesn’t get to run from the discussion we need to have.”
Matthew and Lucienne shared a long look before the librarian sighed. “He’s in the throne room. I’ve not spoken to him since this morning.”
“Then that’s where I’m going.” My legs were weak, but they were steady enough that I could continue walking forward with little issue. My vision switched between normal vision and that of the threads, the headache growing into a dull but constant pinch. Lucienne walked with me, ready to reach out and steady me should I falter, but once we reached the throne room she stopped and let me go on my own.
The beautiful cosmos filled sky cast the room in pale blue light as I entered. Morpheus stood in the center of the throne room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back and his eyes glued to the spot in front of him, the same spot of our argument and the spot I’d disappeared from. He didn’t turn, but the stiffness that sent him standing even straighter than before told me he knew I was here. “You should be resting.”
I moved closer, standing at arm's length away from him. “Probably, but you and I have a lot to talk about.”
“It can wait-”
“No.” The word didn’t sound harsh or cold, but perhaps a bit desperate. “I don’t want to wait until later.”
He sighed, only turning his head ever so slightly to the side. “Very well, where would you like to start?”
“First, I would speak to the nightmare…” I hesitated. “The nightmare that pulled them away from me before you got there.”
Dream didn’t respond, he merely waved his hand, uttering a soft name that I didn’t hear. The room filled with the echoes of thunder as the familiar dark storm clouds circled above for a moment, lightning and black shapes twisting into a more human form.
The nightmare bowed lowly, speaking in a dark voice that sent a tremble through me. “You have summoned me, Dream Lord?”
He didn’t speak, allowing me to guide the conversation. I appreciated the gesture, but the rigidness of his back and the steeled calm of his emotions had me worried. “I wanted to speak with you.”
The nightmare lifted its eyes to me, its hard features and flashes of lightning softening a bit. "My lady."
"Do you have a name?"
"The humans call me The Gathering Storm," it answered.
I took a step towards it with a soft smile. "That's a lovely name. Gathering Storm, I wished to thank you. Had you not pulled them away from me… I would have been in far worse condition."
Its head bowed lower. "I did my duty."
"I would see you rewarded," my voice was soft as I came to stand in front of The Gathering Storm. "Any reward you wish, simply name it and I shall grant it to you."
Stormy eyes looked over my shoulder to Dream before moving back to mine. "My only wish is to serve The Dreaming… To serve you, my lady, if you would permit it."
I could feel the weight of the offer settle in the room, and though I felt Dream's power coil around him I felt a soft sensation pulling me to accept. "Of course I would permit it."
The Gathering Storm knelt down fully, holding a vial of clouds and lightning that matched its appearance out to me. "With this token I shall always be by my lady's side. So long as there is breath in your lungs I shall heed your command and answer your call."
Holding the vial in my hand I could feel the raging power of the storm within it. I smiled, grasping hold of its hand for a quick moment, an action that seemed to calm the storm clouds. "Thank you."
With a final bow the nightmare rose through the ceiling and disappeared in the endless expanse of stars. Now all that remained was Dream and I. As I turned to him, my heart dropped to find him still facing away from me, still tense and silent. For a long moment I stood waiting for him to speak, but as the minutes passed it became clear he'd not intended to. "Will you not even look at me, Morpheus?"
"I do not deserve to gaze upon you," he finally said, voice raw and barely above a whisper. "I failed you."
"Look at me," I commanded. His rigid form turned and his glistening eyes met mine. "I am sorry for the words I spoke to you in anger."
His face tightened as his head tilted to the side. "You need not apologize. It was my words, my callousness, that began all this."
Taking a step towards him I sighed. "It doesn't matter who started it. We both said terrible things to one another and it matters to me that you know I regret it." I fought against the tears in my eyes. "I never should have brought your family into it… Nor should I have made it seem like your capture was their fault or yours."
"I should never have called you those things," he whispered. "You are none of them. Not just another mortal and certainly not useless. I made your suffering inferior to mine and if I could go back…" He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his cheeks. "You were right. You were the only thing that kept me from succumbing to the hopelessness in the years of our torment."
I resisted the strong urge to go to him, to melt into his arms. "Will you open up to me now? Will you tell me what caused you to say the things you did?"
"I…" He sighed. "I was jealous of my people's love for you, but more than that I was, am, afraid."
"If you've changed your mind..." I breathed in deep before forcing the words out. "If you don't want this anymore it's okay…"
"If I don't want this?" He questioned with furrowed brows. "You've misunderstood me, my love."
Finally meeting his eyes I wrapped my arms around myself. "Then explain it to me."
"For as long as I can remember I have been alone. I have my family and my subjects but that's not... They aren't the same. There have been lovers, moments of wishful thinking but nothing concrete. I'd resigned myself to the fact I'd spend this eternal existence alone. I'd taken full control of every aspect of this realm and those within it, thought I'd perfected my function and then..." Morpheus looked away from me, tears and a century of pain and sorrow I knew all too well swelled in him. "I was captured, torn away from the only thing I had that was completely my own. I was held captive by lesser beings, left in silence to fester and twist from my own pain and anger. Then I saw you… A light in the vast darkness and in that moment I realized just how pathetically lonely I'd been all the eons of this world."
Tears streamed down my cheeks as his eyes met mine again. "And I had to watch you from a cage of silence, unable to offer you anything… No kind words, no answers, not even a glimpse of the hope you freely gave me. I had to watch them beat you and degrade you, had to spend every waking hour without you in my sight fearing they'd taken you away, defiled you, killed you..." His voice trailed off as his hands clenched at his sides. "I spent every day of those two years fearing that my one chance at the companionship I so craved would be ripped away from me, only to then watch that fear come alive. And for the five years you were gone from me and every day after that I thought you were gone forever. Finding you alive... It was the happiest day of my entire existence and every day, every moment with you that has followed has brought me more joy than I've ever known."
"Then why do you hide from me?" I asked softly. "Why are you still so afraid to let me in?"
"I am not good at this, I never have been," he admitted. "After so many centuries of relying on myself, my power and the control I had over my realm, intimacy such as ours is difficult. For the first time I cannot hide away, cannot bury these unwanted things inside me and ignore them because you know. Without any words exchanged you know."
I took a step towards him. "I understand that. It can be a lot for me too sometimes, but why didn't you just talk to me?"
Guilt filled him. "I was angry with you. Jealous of you. My subjects have never felt for me what they do for you… Not for eons."
"They respect me," I said. "Is that not what you wanted?"
"It is." He clarified with a sigh. "I want them to respect you, to love you, but seeing them do it so freely, so easily… It made me question what I did to make them view me so coldly."
From what little I knew of the subject the residents of The Dreaming had always respected Dream, but more so they feared his anger. "I understand your rules are important, but I think the dreams and nightmares began to see themselves as second to them."
After a moment he nodded. "Perhaps, but I cannot abandon my rules. Not even I am above them. If I let myself succumb to the entirety of the unconscious world I would be consumed."
"You don't have to forgo all the rules. You just need to show them that you value them and the rules." I advised gently as the topic I'd dreaded bringing up became unbearable in me. "I… You've said before that we're equals."
"We are," he answered earnestly, though his body grew stiff.
My fingers tightened in my sleeves. "How? How can we be equals when I anger you by doing the duties of Lady of The Dreaming?"
Morpheus looked down for a moment. "I do not know."
"I want to do my part here, but I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to replace you." I set a hand on his chest, drawing his eyes up to mine. "It was never my intention to make you feel replaceable."
His cold hand settled over mine. "I know. This fear is my own, one that has driven me for far too long. And I will have to work through it on my own."
"Morpheus," I sighed.
"You have done nothing wrong, have offered me every opportunity to lessen my burden and still I forced my anger onto you." He shook his head. "The only one that can overcome this is me."
"Will you come to me if things get as bad as before?" I questioned, leaning into him.
The feeling of his forehead pressing to mine lifted a lot of the weight between us. "Yes. However, until these feelings lessen I'm afraid I must ask that you refrain from performing duties of the lady." Sensing the implications I'd assumed he continued, "You are The Lady of The Dreaming. You always will be. But, seeing the response to you and your work… It's difficult for me at present."
It felt like a step back, a large one, but Death's words of reassurance eased the feeling. "Okay, I'll take a step back. Just promise me you'll work through it?" I looked up at him. "Promise you won't try to bury it again."
Dream pressed his lips to my forehead. "I promise."
The majority of the hurt had settled as we stood close, almost holding each other but not quite, but there was still a tenseness there. It was something I'd expected. A lot had changed in a short amount of time, it would take more than simple apologies to adjust. As the silence soothed over us both Dream seemed to set himself to ask a question that still nagged at him as his hands smoothed over the bandages on my hand. "Penelope, did you truly believe I would not come for you?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I thought after what I said to you…"
"I could never hate you," he said firmly before I could finish. "And I would never abandon you."
"I'm sorry," I said as the emotions of the past nine days finally filled me. "I'm sorry for worrying everyone."
He held my hand tightly, but gently. "You sacrificed yourself for me. It is I that needs to apologize. You never should have had to make such a choice."
"I'd make it again," I assured him, lifting my head and pressing a hand to his cheek. "I would do anything for you."
"As I would do for you."
As I stared into his eyes my mind and my body finally let the death of Doctor Shenton settle in. He was gone. I breathed out a relieved laugh, something that seemed to make Dream smile. "It's really over isn't it? It's finally over."
Morpheus nodded, a proud smile spreading on his face. "You are finally free, my love."
I closed my eyes at the words, relief filling my lungs and a weight lifting from my shoulders. Free. Tears of joy wet my cheeks as I smiled. "Thank you, for helping me finish it."
"He deserved far worse, but I want you to know how proud I am of you for facing him in the end." Dream wiped my tears away. "Pierre would be just as proud, they all would."
For the first time in seventy years the ghosts of my past, the friends I'd lost and the people I'd killed, were silent. For the first time I felt free. "Thank you."
Dream held my hand and led me toward the library. "You need to rest now. I know you won't return to bed, but the least you can do is sit."
Lucienne had stopped pacing and pretended to be busy stacking books when we entered. Her eyes drifted to our joined hands and she hid the tiny relieved smile. "My Lord, my lady, I trust all is well."
I settled into one of the chairs, hand pressing to my abdomen as the painful tugging of the stitched flesh began to ache. "Alls well, Lucienne."
Dreams' eyes settled onto one of the books sitting on the table, his entire body stiffening. "How did this get here?"
"Your sister," Lucienne answered. "She thought it would be safer here instead of in the Waking World."
I looked at the black book with furrowed brows. "Is this the book they used?"
"Yes," Lucienne answered. "It was in possession of Roderick Burgess before passing through a woman, Ethel Cripps and then onto Elias."
Wordlessly I reached across the table and grabbed it, Dreams' eyes followed me curiously as I held the book between my hands watching as the threads wound around it, magic pulsing through each one as they glowed. I pulled the threads tight and watched the book unbind and turn to dust. My eyes met his, a shared understanding humming between us as I whispered to him. You are finally free, my Dream.
***
In the two months that followed my return things were… Tense. Morpheus had poured himself into his work, spending all his time on his throne looking through book after book after book all in search of answers pertaining to a Vortex. When Lucienne had brought the rumors to him, he already knew and was watching the girl that held such power. He hadn't explained much to me when I asked, but Lucienne had been very informative on the subject. The Vortex, a random occurrence, held the power to draw people's dreams together… To effectively end both The Dreaming and Waking World if left unchecked. "So, he has to kill her?"
Lucienne hummed softly. "Unfortunately, yes."
"There's no other way?" I flipped through the pages of the book. "No loophole or… Magic spell?"
"I'm afraid not," she answered.
I felt for him, killing was never an easy thing and the life he had to take was an innocent one. This girl, Rose Walker, hadn't asked for any of this and likely didn't even know. The whole situation was less than ideal, and the added stress of the missing arcana was too much for one person, even one as powerful as Dream. He stopped joining me for walks or dinner, stopped coming to bed, stopped everything that wasn't pertaining to his work.
In turn I'd grown restless. I stayed clear of the town, not wanting to add to Dreams' already full plate by doing things that I now knew caused him to feel upset. So I spent time with Cain and Abel, tending to their garden and reading beneath Pierres statue, but even that had begun to feel lonely. Eventually I turned to helping Lucienne and Matthew in the library, sorting books and helping her reorganize things.
If I was lucky Dream would come by looking for a book, but things between us remained distant. He'd ask me if I was well, ask about my day and then he was gone. There were no soft touches or heated back and forths like I was used to and that I longed for, just small conversations. I tried to keep Death's words in mind, tried to give him the benefit of the doubt… This was new and it was a lot for him but damn it all if I wasn't frustrated. It didn't help that everything I tried to do to help out and pull my weight around The Dreaming just seemed to upset him.
Things had gotten so tense that I’d spent most of my time far from the palace and the town and everyone. It was lonely, and The Dreaming seemed to sense it, letting dark storm clouds fill the sky above me, but where I’d expected rain I’d gained a new friend instead. The Gathering Storm had come from the big black clouds and stood beside me, offering up the companionship my days had been lacking. Ever since we’d meet at the lake and talk. For a nightmare Storm was quite pleasant company.
I laid back in the grass looking up at the clear skies and soaked in the warm sunlight as the day lazily rolled along. After a while of the birds whistling and the gentle sounds of water lapping at the edge of the lake, thunder echoed in the secluded meadow and a cold wind rushed over me as Storm took a more human shape by my side. “Morning Storm, how was your night?”
“It was as it always is,” the nightmare answered. “Are you well, my lady?”
“I’m how I always am.” I answered just as cryptically and shrugged, looking up at them. They nodded their head, turning and looking out at the shimmering lake. As I watched them I couldn’t help but notice how sad it seemed they felt. It wasn't the first time I'd noticed such in the nightmares. Their purpose and duty seemed to weigh heavily on them. “Storm? Do you enjoy being a nightmare?”
Their endlessly deep eyes met mine and the storm clouds billowed and rolled. “I am what the Dream Lord has made me to be.”
“But do you enjoy it?”
There was silence for a moment as they thought about what I’d asked. “I take no pleasure in bringing fear to the minds of men, but I am what I am meant to be.”
I sat up. “What if you could be something different?”
Storm smiled a little. “It would be nice to inspire instead of frighten… to know what the warmth of the sun feels like.”
“Why don’t you give it a try then?” I wondered.
“Nightmares cannot become dreams,” they answered.
“Why not?”
“It is the Dream Lord will,” they said solemnly.
Oh. I sighed and set a gentle hand over the mass of clouds and lightning. “I’m sorry.”
They merely smiled. “Do not be, my lady. I am what I am. It is my hope that serving you shall provide me with the things I feel lacking.”
I laughed a little. “I’m more than happy to help, sorry if it just turns out to be sitting by the lake all day.”
“Even such a simple thing as this brings me great honor.” They didn’t look away from the lake as they said, “It is good to have a friend, my lady.”
“You’re a good friend, Storm.”
When the sun had begun to set Storm left to prepare themselves for the night ahead and I slowly made my way back to the palace just as Merv had returned from the town. I smiled at him. “Busy day?”
“Yeah, lots of simple repairs. Built a few new houses,” his big pumpkin head tilted to the side. “How bout you kid?”
I shook my head. “A whole lot of nothing.”
Merv’s eyes narrowed as he lifted a finger to his mouth. “You could come by my workshop for a bit. I’ve got a few small projects I could use an extra hand with.”
My eyes lit up and I bounced on my feet, excited. “Really?!”
“Calm down kid,” Merv said with a chuckle. “It ain’t that fun.”
“It’s better than nothing,” I said, following him toward the palace and through the maze of hallways until we reached a simple door and a medium sized room. It was filled with tools and wood shavings, the large workbench that filled the center of the room had a few carved pieces strewn about while other bits were half carved. “What are you building?”
“This is all gonna be a table, eventually. And that bit over there is gonna be a personal book shelf for Lucienne so she doesn’t have to walk all the way through that library of hers to keep grabbing books she wants to read.”
“She’ll love that,” I said, moving through the space and admiring his tools. “You have an impressive workshop.”
He bowed his pumpkin head. “The highest of compliments, my lady.”
“Penelope, please!” I begged. “Or kid, that’s fine too.”
“Whatever you say, kid.” He moved to the table and grabbed a tool, showing it to me. “You got any experience with woodworking?”
“None!”
He laughed. “This’ll be interesting then. Let's get to work.”
Woodworking was, as it turned out, not as simple as weaving threads was. I struggled for a good hour and a half before Merv moved me to a simpler task. He assured me that I’d done a good job for my first try, but that he didn’t have all night to spend on one table leg, which was fair. So I sat in one of his stools, mostly sanding the legs a little and adding a few coats of polish before moving to the next. It felt good to finally be doing something, even if I was bad at it. Merv was polite about correcting me, always making sure to show me the right way before letting me loose again. For the first time in weeks I was having fun.
The door opened and Dream's black clad figure moved through it slowly. For a minute I thought he’d come looking for me so we could spend some time together, but as I looked up at the tight annoyance in his face that hopefulness was gone. Frustration bubbled up in me as my shoulders slumped in defeat. What now?
"What are you doing?" His voice was cold and his eyes were darkened with poorly concealed frustration.
I looked at the pieces of wood in my hands. "Helping Merv."
"Mervyn is meant to be fixing damages, not entertaining you."
That's it. I set the pieces down roughly. "He's not entertaining me. I'm helping him build something for one of his projects."
Dreams jaw clenched. "You are pulling his focus away from more pressing matters. This is not what you should be doing."
"Then what is?" I demanded. "I can't go help out around town. I can't help Cain and Abel. I can't help Lucienne. I can't help Merv. God knows I can't help you. So what is it I'm meant to do, Morpheus?" He took a step forward, anger unfurling from his chest and mine.
"Watch your tone, Penelope."
"Or what?" I pressed, taunting. "You'll banish me? Maybe it would be for the best if I did leave."
"You'll do no such thing."
"Won't I? Am I your prisoner now?" I knew I was testing the limits of his anger but I didn't care. This was the most I'd spoken to him in weeks. I was angry... Hurt by his absence and constant dismissal and complaints. I was done. "Do you intend to chain me, lock me up like some pet so I'm here but out of your way?"
"Do. Not. Test. My. Patience." His voice was low and lethal. I struck the exact nerve I wanted and though I regretted stooping so low I refused to back down now.
"Then give me a real answer."
Merv was visibly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. "The, uh, the damages are this way, my lord. I'll fix it right now, I just needed to show you something before I did."
Dreams' eyes didn't leave mine and he didn't make any move to answer Merv or leave. I stood from my chair and regarded Merv with a stiff smile. "I'm sorry for bothering you."
"You weren't a bother, ki- my lady." He assured me as I walked past him and Dream.
The door didn't budge when I tried to push it open. Dreams' power filled the room, dark and heavy mist slithering from his shadow. "We are not finished talking."
I turned and met his dark eyes, grabbing the threads that made the door and pulling until it tore off its hinges and clattered to the ground around me. "Yes we are."
"Fuckin hell," Merv muttered.
"Sorry about the door," I said as I turned on my heel and stormed off.
I avoided all the main roads, following my feet through the tall grass and thicket of trees until I stood in front of the gemstone lake. The setting sun cast over the water and lit up the jewels at the bottom beautifully, but the sight didn't ease the painful burning in my chest as tears streamed down my cheeks and a loud, angry scream tore through my throat. The ground trembled and my scream seemed to make the leaves on the trees curl. For a while I sat in the grass and cried quietly as the sun continued to set.
Watching the water ripple with the orange light was relaxing and the chilled water seemed to lull my anger. I swam through the slightly chilled depths, letting it sink beneath my skin letting the water of the gemstone lake help cool the burning in my chest as I sank lower and lower to the bottom of the lake. My lungs burned for air, but I ignored them just a minute longer, two, not ready to let go of the quiet the water provided. The gemstones glistened as I slowly rose back to the surface, smoothing my hands down my face as the fading sunlight warmed my cheeks.
The feel of his tempered anger filled the meadow long before he came into view, and with a soft sigh I let my own anger refill my lungs with the deep breaths of air. If he wanted a fight then I'd give him one. "I do not like leaving our conversations unfinished."
I looked at him over my shoulder, his stiff figure standing just at the edge of the lake. "Well sometimes it's best to take a step back when the conversation isn't going anywhere."
His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. If I hadn't known better I would have thought he ran here. I turned toward him and his eyes slowly slid down my body, his hands clenched into fists at his side. What is his problem? I questioned quietly as I moved closer to the edge of the lake, the white material of my dress growing heavier and heavier as I rose out of the water.
Looking down to gather some of the soaked fabric in my hands, an attempt to make moving easier, a blush rose to my cheeks as I found the wet material stuck to my form was now completely sheer. The chilled air caused my nipples to peek beneath the thin material and the way the dress hugged me left nothing to the imagination. Oh. Still knee deep in the water I looked back up to Dream, the steady sharp tug of both our anger was joined by that familiar hungry need to feel each other's skin. It had been weeks since the apologies, weeks since I'd healed, weeks since we shared a bed or felt the intimate touch of the other's hands.
Our eyes locked for a moment, both of us still angry but now we had to decide which we wanted more. To continue our argument or… As I swallowed thickly at the thought of his hands on me, Dream seemed to make the decision for us. He strode forward into the lake, not bothering to strip himself of his boots or his coat, not caring about anything as he grabbed my face and pulled my lips to his in a searing hot kiss.
I whined into his mouth as he forced my lips to part for his tongue. My hands fisted into his sleeves, both pushing him away and pulling him closer. One of his hands moved to my throat, holding my head in place as the other moved to my back. His blunt nails dragged down the wet material for a moment before deftly undoing the buttons. His lips pulled away from mine, the hand at my throat squeezing a little as he breathed out, "Don't ever walk away from me like that again."
"I wouldn't have to if you'd stop being such an asshole for one second." My hands pushed the coat off his shoulders and into the lake. I pulled his hair, forcing our lips back together, roughly biting and tugging them between my teeth.
The cold of his hands on the bare skin of my back sent a shiver up my spine and a soft mewl out of my throat and into his mouth as he roughly pulled my arms free of the sleeves and forced the top of the dress down to my hips. He lifted me out of the water, turning us quickly back onto solid ground. His hand fisted in my hair, tugging my head back and opening up my throat to the onslaught of his lips. It felt good to finally feel something other than his annoyance or my own frustration, and I cherished every second of it.
When the scratchy tree bark clawed at my back I gasped, arching into Dream. He panted against my skin, biting into my neck and down my chest, swirling his tongue and fingers over my nipples. "Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?"
My hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, tearing it open and forcing it off him. "Stop. Talking."
He growled at my command and tore the rest of my dress off me, moving me away from the stability of the tree and lowering me to the ground, a soft blanket meeting my skin instead of the damp grass. When his body draped over mine he was completely naked, biting and kissing up my stomach, tugging one of my nipples between his teeth harshly before my hands dragged him back up to my lips. God this felt good.
Wasting no time with words he pushed into my wet cunt, one thrust bringing his hips flush with mine and seating himself snugly inside me. I moaned loudly at the sudden burn and stretch of him, my nails digging into his arms as he set a fast and rough pace that left me breathless. I could feel the smug satisfaction in him as he watched me, hands gliding against my wet skin and squeezing my hips tight enough to bruise. It wasn’t a surprise when I came, nor was it one when he didn’t relent in his movements.
I lifted my hand to his head, trailing my fingers over the crown of his thread. Dream groaned into my mouth, every inch of him tensing and slowing as he tried to calm himself down from the sudden pleasurable feeling. Taking the opportunity I squeezed his hips with my legs and rolled us over, the ground startling him as it met his back. He sat up against me, hands digging into my flesh as his wide, wild eyes looked up at me, an uncomfortable feeling smoldering in his chest at our position. We stared at one another for a moment longer before I rolled my hips down, his eyes shutting and a blissful expression replacing the furrowed brows and tight lips.
He kept his hands firmly on my waist, holding onto a tiny shred of control as I continued to move against him. I’d rode him before, but it had never been like this… he had never let me be this in control before. That feeling alone lit a fire in my core, pushing me to move faster, to nip and suck marks into his neck as he threw his head back with a moan. It wasn’t the control that made this moment, this feeling, so intense. It was the warm feeling of trust that hummed through him. For the first time in months I could feel him put his trust in me. For the first time in months I felt like his equal. His breathing grew heavy as his shining starry eyes met mine, the anger and annoyance and everything in between fading away with each snap of our hips. We came together, foreheads pressed to one another's.
Dream had collapsed back, his arms keeping me firmly locked against his chest as we both caught our breaths. For a moment we were just content to hold each other, to feel the love that had been smothered and covered up by everything else. I set my chin on his chest, looking at him bathed in the moonlight beneath me. “I missed this.” His eyes opened and he looked at me. “I missed you.”
With a gentle breath he pulled me even closer. “I missed you as well.”
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
“There has been a lot to do.” He shook his head a little. “I have been frustrated and angry with everything as of late and I did not want to risk taking it out on you again.”
I set my head in the crook of his neck and pressed a light kiss to one of the hickeys I’d left. “While I appreciate the gesture, avoiding me doesn’t feel much better.”
Dream kissed my head. “I realize that now.”
Lifting my head and looking down at him I spoke, “Let’s make a promise then. No matter how angry we are, no matter how busy things get, we’ll always go to bed together.”
He smiled. “That sounds like a good promise.”
“I love you,” I said, stroking his cheek.
“I love you too,” he replied, leaning into my touch.
As we lay together, curled up in each other I sighed. “How mad is Merv about the door?”
Dream chuckled. “Quite.”
“Fuck.”
***
I walked through the hedges and into the small courtyard of Destiny’s garden, happy to see him already waiting for me. “Good evening, Penelope.”
“Hey, Des,” I replied, taking my seat. “How have you been?”
The last time I’d seen him was when Lyria, or rather the thing possessing her, had attacked him. From what I could tell his wounds had healed, the physical ones at least. He regarded my question with a tiny smile. “I should be asking you this question.”
Right, the last he heard of me was when I’d returned to the asylum. “Thank you, for helping them find me. If it weren’t for you-”
“You would have been found,” he assured me. “I merely sped up the process and gave my brother the permission to act.”
“He would have done it anyway,” I said with a laugh.
“I know,” Destiny agreed. “But this way he does not have to face any unpleasant consequences.”
We sat in silence for a moment before I worked up the courage to ask him the question I came here for. “Can we save her?”
His misty eyes met mine and a sad look filled his stoic face. “I do not know.”
“But you know everything.”
“Not this.”
“The book doesn’t say anything?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. It does not.”
That wasn’t good, I knew it and so did he. If the book didn’t know what was going to happen to her then what hope did we have at it? “What was the book that you’d trapped this thing in? If I can find it then I might be able to figure out a plan.”
“You do not need to trouble yourself with this,” he answered. “It is my doing.”
“I told you I’d help you,” I answered firmly. “And I intend to. I’m not going to just set this aside, not while there's still a chance to save her.”
“How do you know there is one?”
I looked over toward the statues, to the place the thorned throne had been that day. “She fought it. Took control to try and give me time to kill her. I have to believe that means she’s still in there and still capable of being saved.”
Destiny smiled at me. “Thank you, Penelope.”
I shrugged. “Don’t thank me yet, just spill the details on that book. You can thank me when she’s home.”
He told me what he could, all of it vague and not very helpful, as was normal for him. It was enough though. When I returned to The Dreaming I sought out Lucienne in the library, giving her the details he could provide and asking her to keep her eyes open for anything. I took notice of her stress immediately as she shuffled through stacks of books and sighed to herself. “What’s going on?”
“What?” She asked, looking back up at me with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, my lady. It’s the Vortex.”
“Has she started doing whatever it is she does?”
“Yes and no.” Lucienne shook her head. “Her brother is missing from The Dreaming.”
“How?”
“That is what we are trying to figure out.” She nodded to the door. “I am going to meet Lord Morpheus to discuss possibilities now, if you’d like to come with me.”
Things had been better between Dream and I ever since our night at the lake. He upheld his end of our promise and so did I. It seemed to be helping, at least it was with keeping him from bottling up his anger and frustration. I smiled a little at the thought of his creative ways to rid himself of such things, before nodding to Lucienne and joining her in walking to the throne room.
Dream sat on the bottom steps, Matthew beside him and a cold and stressed look set on his face as he looked up at me with a tense smile. “How is my brother?”
“As good as he can be,” I answered, moving to sit beside him, offering him a featherlight touch. “Lucienne tells me you’ve had no such luck.”
“Jed Walker is still in the realm of the living, but I cannot find him.”
Lucienne sighed. “No. Nor I, my lord.”
“All humans are connected to the Dreaming. They spend a third of their life here. Breaking that connection would require knowledge and power.” He said stiffly.
“Then it may interest you to know that the last nightmare Jed Walker had before he disappeared was of Gault.” Lucienne said tactfully.
Dreams brows furrowed even more. “You think she severed him from the Dreaming?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s not just any child, is he?” she asked. “He’s Rose Walker's brother. She is the Vortex.”
As he took in her words an odd sensation rolled through the throne room. “Excuse me?” All eyes turned toward the sound of the new voice as a young woman walked toward us, her head held high and a light confusion in her eyes. “I’m Rose Walker. What do you know about my brother, Jed?”
Beside me Dream looked far more astonished than I expected of him. The ceiling above us swirled with bright cosmic light as Rose Walker stood before us, completely unaware of the fact she had just waltzed into a kings throne room. Dream stood from my side, subtly offering me a hand to help me up. “You are welcome here, Rose Walker.”
“Who are you?”
Lucienne stepped toward her, a wary look in her eyes. “You have somehow dreamed your way into an audience with Lord Morpheus. The King of Dreams. And now you must go.”
“Lucienne,” Dream warned.
“She shouldn’t be here.”
“No,” he answered with a hint of a smile. “But I should like her to stay.”
I took a step down from Dreams' side, looking intently at the girl as she looked around, taking in her surroundings. The world fading into the darkness of the glowing threads as I examined hers. Yellow with strands of purple and pink interwoven together, beautiful and very fitting of what little I could see of her personality. Rose herself was clear as day, like Dream and Destiny and Death with a dazzling swirl of cosmic light surrounding her. She watched me closely, looking me up and down before speaking, “Are you some kind of goddess?”
I laughed, shaking my head quickly. “No, I’m not. Far from it actually.”
She gestured to my clothes. “You just look… regal. You’re very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You and your thread are quite the sight as well.”
“My what?”
“Right, I forget most people don’t know about this stuff,” I chuckled. “I can see your universal thread. The things that make you, well you.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re not a goddess?”
“Not a goddess. Human, just with a complicated job.”
“This is weird,” she said softly.
“I know,” I answered, hoping I'd be able to offer her some kind of reassurance.
“What is this place?”
Dream answered this time, voice soft and elegant. “You’re in The Dreaming, the place where people come when they sleep.”
“So, I’m asleep right now? I’m dreaming?”
“Yes, and I should like to know how it is you found me.”
“I heard you talking about me brother,” Rose answered, looking around again. “Is he here?”
“No.” Dream said, slowly descending the steps and moving around her.
“Do you know where he is?”
“No.” He looked up at the windows as the image of Gault filled them with blue and purple hues of light. “But I think he might be with one of my missing Nightmares.”
Rose’s head tilted to the side. “She’s a nightmare? What would she want with Jed?”
He had a gleam in his eyes as he looked down at her with a peaked curiosity. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling it has something to do with you.”
“Me? Why? What did I do?”
“It is not what you did. It is what you are.”
She shook her head, fighting a laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand any of this.”
Dream smiled a bit. “No. Dream vortexes are largely incomprehensible.”
“What’s a dream vortex?”
“You are,” I said, offering her a reassuring smile, trying my best to find some way to ease the obvious swell of confusion in the poor girl.
“You see, once every few thousand years, a mortal is born with a dreaming ability so powerful, she can travel through the dreams of others. Apparently all the way to my throne room. “
She winced a little. “I was just looking for my brother.”
“If you can find me in The Dreaming, you can find your brother. No matter where Gault has hidden him.”
“How?” she asked. “How do I do that?”
“For now, keep looking for your brother in the waking world. Matthew will watch over you there,” he said, turning to the raven as he hopped down the stairs and looked up at Rose.
“At your service, Rose.” He said with a bow.
The look on her face made me laugh. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”
“When he is with you, I am with you. Then tonight when you sleep you and I will go in search of Gault and your brother together. In your dreams.
“She’s just a nightmare, right?” Rose asked tensely. “She can’t hurt him, can she?”
Dream didn’t answer, so I set a hand on her shoulder, a hum of whatever power lingering in her pulsing through me. “If he’s anything like you I doubt one nightmare will be enough to scare him.” Rose smiled at me, but I could still see her worry and fear. “Why don’t I go with Matthew to watch over you? And help you look for your brother in the waking world?”
Dream’s head turned to me. “That is hardly necessary.”
“No, but if Gault is already looking to capitalize on the vortex’s power then maybe the others will be too.”
“Others?” Rose asked. “How many nightmares are looking for me?”
“None,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t need help.”
“She did get attacked in an alley the other night,” Matthew said.
Rose’s brows furrowed, but she didn’t ask the question I knew she had. Dream sighed. “I do not think this is a good idea.”
I took a step towards him, brushing my fingers against his hand. The doctor and his cult are gone. “There's nothing in the waking world that I can’t handle.” I’ll be safe.
He breathed out and nodded. “Very well. Just… exercise caution please. If you see one of the others return to The Dreaming and let me handle it.”
“Yes, Dream Lord, sir,” I said with a sarcastic salute.
Rose watched the interaction with an arched brow. “So, how exactly are you going to help me? No offense, you just don’t look like someone that's good at finding people.”
I smiled widely. “I’m full of surprises, Rose Walker. You’ll see when you wake up.”
“I’m staying at-”
“I’ll find you.” I said confidently. “Popping up is kind of what I do.”
Once Rose vanished, Dream looked at me with a huff. “I mean it, Penelope. If you see any of the missing arcana, come home.”
“I’ll be fine, Dream.” I assured him. “I’ll take my things just in case.”
He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine for a moment. “Be careful.”
“Relax,” I smoothed a finger down the lines between his eyes before nodding to Matthew. “You want a ride, smokey?”
He flew up to my shoulder. “Just don’t get us lost in some alternate dimension, yeah?”
“Shut up.” I teased focusing on Rose’s thread and letting it pull me to the house. “I’m getting way better at this Weaver shit.”
“Yeah it’s impressive when you don’t fuck it up.”
“I should have made you fly.”
***
Dream poured over the books scattered on the table, a persistent headache plaguing him since Rose Walker had left. Since Penelope had followed. Lucienne’s light steps echoed to him. “My lord, may I help?”
“Is this everything we have on Rose Walker?”
“And Jed Walker. But I shouldn’t think theres anything in those you don’t already know. Except perhaps-”
“Except perhaps why she was able to wander into my throne room.” He cut her off with a sigh. “What do you think? Why did Gault target her brother and not her?”
“Did you read about Unity Kincaid?” She asked moving toward another book away from his pile. “The day you were imprisoned there were people all over the world who fell asleep and could not wake up. Unity Kincaid is the sole survivor of what they called the “sleepy sickness”. The day you returned, she woke up. Rose Walker is her great-granddaughter.”
He took the book as she offered it to him. “Which would seem to suggest that my absence caused the birth of a vortex.”
“Is that not a possibility?”
“Vortexes are naturally occurring phenomena. No one knows why they happen. Not even I know. But I do know they are not caused or created. They simply happen.”
She shook her head, brows furrowing with confusion. “Then this is all a coincidence? And not an imminent threat?”
Dream sighed. “My instinct says no, but tonight when Rose Walker sleeps, I shall see it more clearly. May I?” He asked, walking away with the book in his hand.
The headache persisted all through the morning, the only moments of relief from it were when he looked through his raven's eyes and watched Penelope move through the humans. She was relaxed, far more than she had been in a long while, and though he wasn’t there he could feel the unburdened relief that filled her. She was finally free. Free of looking over her shoulder, free of running, free to at last do as she pleased. He quietly smiled at the bright butterfly shirt she’d worn, his eyes skimming down to her thighs where both her daggers were tightly secured.
She is more than capable of handling herself. He reminded himself, but it did little to lessen the fear he felt. If she was correct in assuming Rose Walker had already begun drawing his nightmares to her then there was a chance… slim as it was that The Corinthian was lurking about. She was capable, far more than anyone else he knew, but his creation was as monstrous and fearsome as he’d intended for him to be and he worried for her, should they cross paths.
***
Rose had been a bit surprised to see Matthew and I waiting outside the house that morning, but she contained it well. Flyers in her hands and a tall man with black and white hair following her steps she gave us a small wave before moving through the town in search of her brother. As we followed a ways behind her I couldn’t help but feel lighter. This was the first time in sixty years I’d not been nervous to walk around so publicly. It was weird, but in the best way.
The beach was warm and full of regular people having fun. They wore roller skates and slid past me listening to music, they set up umbrellas and towels and settled beneath the sun comfortably and content. Matthew had left my side, flying around the area before settling beneath a pavilion a ways ahead of both me and Rose. She and her friend handed out flyers, walking and making light conversation before her eyes glued to a crow perched on a railing. I smiled, refraining from laughing at the no doubt fit Matthew was about to have.
When she moved to follow the wrong bird I stayed put, long enough to catch a glimpse of the blonde man in the white coat with thick black glasses as he stared after her, moving to follow. He got close, but when he noticed Matthew his confident steps faltered and he turned away with a look of annoyance on his face. The longer I looked at him the more certain I was that he was one of Dreams' missing nightmares. I looked to Matthew as he and Rose spoke, before following the man down the beach. He took a flyer from her friend and then quickly moved into the thick crowd, trying to blend away into it, but I would not be lost so easily.
I cut across the beach, moving through the stalls of people selling things and into the old building, some old tourist attraction by the look of it. I waited, patient and quiet as the sound of his heavy footsteps echoed down the alley. The door to the abandoned building opened beside me and he stepped into the room with a frustrated curse. My blade was at the back of his neck in a second. “The Corinthian I presume.”
Ignoring the sting of metal against his skin he turned his head to me. "The fair Lady of The Dreaming, it's about time our paths crossed. I've heard all about those pretty little teeth of yours," he smiled wide as he slid the dark glasses down his nose, revealing the eyes of pearly white teeth that seemed to smile with him. "But, I've got teeth too, your highness."
“If you want to keep them I suggest you behave.”
He laughed. “Sorry, my lady, good behavior is not something I was made for.”
I moved around him cautiously. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then it seems you are vastly different from my creator after all.” He set his hands in his pockets. “How’s that going by the way? I can’t imagine Dreams too keen on sharing the spotlight.”
Damn he’s good. I tried to keep my face passive, tried not to think about just how right he was in the assumption. “Does that really matter?”
He shrugged innocently. “Not to me, but I have a feeling it doesn’t feel so good for you. Knowing that he’ll never quite get over himself enough to let you in.”
“Did he make you to be this annoying or was that something learned yourself?”
“Oooh,” he laughed. “You’ve certainly got some spunk. Too bad it’s wasted on him. Dream won’t change. Not for anyone, not even you. All that fire of yours is gonna do is piss him off more and more every day until he finally has had enough of you. You wouldn’t be the first lover he cast out.”
“He has changed,” I told him. “So have you.”
“Me?” This seemed to take him off guard, a moment of uncertainty causing his smile to falter before it twisted into a sneer. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about me.”
I shrugged. “Don’t I? Dream made you, you’re part of him just like everything else in The Dreaming. Does that not give me, his soul bound, a little insight into you?”
“I’m not his pet,” The Corinthian growled. “And I sure as hell ain’t yours.”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” I said, relaxing my stance a bit. “Neither would he.”
The Corinthian shook his head. “You really think that don’t you? Tell me, how are you any different from a pet to him? He keeps you on a short leash, never letting you do what you want, never giving you any say in any of it. Does that sound like an equal to you?”
I frowned at his words, more so at the way they managed to twist inside me. “He’s trying.”
“Eons too late,” he said. “I won’t go back. And the time for chit chat is over, my lady."
A wave of black energy slammed into me, throwing me across the room and trapping me against the floor. Lyria, the beast inside her, smiled down at me. “I’m disappointed in you, Weaver. I thought you’d give me more of a fight, like last time.”
The Corinthian tipped his glasses to me with a grin. “You know, had things been different I think I woulda liked having you as my lady. Don’t worry, I’ll say hi to Jed for ya.”
He wandered lazily out of the building leaving me and Lyria alone. The power that held me was strong and unmoving as the creature moved towards me with a sigh. “It’s painful, being forced to ally myself with such temperamental creatures, but so long as I get Destiny’s head I don’t care what I have to do.”
In my pocket I felt a rumbling echo of thunder and everything relaxed. I looked up at the creature with a smile of my own. “You’re a fool if you think you have any chance at winning.”
“With you out of the way it will be easy. The Dream Lord relies so heavily on you.”
Dream? Why would it want Dream out of the way? “I thought it was Destiny you wanted.”
“It is, but I'll have to get rid of Dream first.” It said softly, appearing deep in thought for a moment. “They’ll only offer their aid if the Dream Lord bends.”
“Well, this is sounding far more elaborate than I thought. Thank you, for the information, but now I’m afraid I’ve got to get back.” I smiled at the creature as its black eyes glared down at me. “The Gathering Storm, answer my call.”
The vial in my pocket rumbled and raged as storm clouds filled the room, lighting striking all around Lyria and the creature inside until their power faded from me and they were forced to flee once again. Storm took shape quickly, their eyes examining the empty building and then turning to me. “Are you hurt, my lady?”
They helped me to my feet and I shook my head, flexing my sore muscles. “No, I’m alright. Thanks for coming.”
“Shall I hunt the creature down for you?”
“No,” I answered looking out at the beach of people through the broken windows. “Whatever they have planned is bigger than I thought. I don’t want to waste time trying to find them when we could be hunting down the book.”
Storm nodded. “I shall ask the other nightmares if they’ve seen anything that may be of use to your search.”
“Thank you.”
I found Matthew and told him to stay with Rose while I returned to The Dreaming and though he wasn’t too fond of stake out duty he agreed. Once I’d gotten back I sought out Lucienne immediately and poured over every book she had found for me on this creature that Destiny had locked away. Taking the books back up to the bedroom with me I searched for hours, looked for anything that could potentially help me understand exactly what this thing was and why it wanted the Endless gone.
There was very little, old myths and stories mostly, but one thing that felt like something was a description of some realm, old and long dead now. If this thing had such a place to hide away in then it was more than likely where I'd find the book. If I was right and it was still bound to it then this could be the key to beating it. It wasn't long after night fell that the palace shook with power for a moment before it settled. Dream had to be back, and if he was making entrances like that it probably meant he wasn’t having a very good night. I hurried down to the throne room, just in time to catch Lucienne and enter with her. There in the center of the room stood Gault and Dream, the tension and anger palpable between the two. Moving to Dreams' side I moved to touch him.
“Are you alright?” He didn’t speak, merely turning away from me and the nightmare to move towards his throne. “Did Rose find Jed?”
“We will discuss it later.” His voice was dark, tense and full of restrained rage.
“Do you have any idea what his life is like in the Waking World?” Gault suddenly demanded as Morpheus moved to ascend the stairs.
“Humans cannot live in dreams. As long as he stayed there, the child had no life nor the chance for one.” He looked over his shoulder at her.
Lucienne pulled me from between the two and was stiff by my side as Gault scoffed up at Dream. “The boy is being abused. He’s suffering.”
“You abused that suffering to build a Dreaming you could rule.”
“I had no wish to rule.” She said forcefully, tears building in her eyes. “I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire rather than to frighten.”
Her words echoed in my ears, shifting into Storm's voice as they once told me the same. I looked at Gault, truly looked at her, and I saw echoes of the same sorrow that filled my friend and others in The Dreaming. Dream, however, did not see it the same way. “The choice is not yours to make. We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”
“That is true. But we can change.”
“No. We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than I am. Nor is anyone.” He won't change. Not for anyone, not even you.
“If that were true, why did all the other Dreams and Nightmares choose to leave this place when you had gone away?” She demanded, the gleam in her eyes enough to tell me… each of us standing in the room, that she had no intention of bending beneath Morpheus’ power.
Lucienne spoke beside me. “Not all of us chose to leave and nearly all have returned.”
“Do you think they came back out of love? Or because they were afraid of what you would do to them if they did not?” She smiled, a joyless and defiant smile. “Because I am not afraid.”
Morpheus turned, power and anger and hurt swimming in his eyes. “You should be. A Nightmares purpose is to reveal a dreamer's fears, that they may face them. Perhaps a few thousand years in the darkness will reveal your fears.”
I watched his shadow stretch, moving closer and closer to Gault as she remained tall. This is wrong. My body moved on it’s own, standing between the growing shadow and Gault, light casting over the floor and halting his shadow as my head lifted and my eyes met Dreams. He stared down at me, not resembling the Dream I knew… no, this cold and callous face was that of the King of Nightmares. "Enough of this, Morpheus."
"Stand aside."
"I do not agree with your punishment." I answered firmly.
"You do not have to. I am the king and ruler of this realm. My word is law."
"Then what is my word? I cannot be your equal if you refuse to hear any voice but your own."
"You would defy me?" He questioned, every ounce of his anger and disbelief filling me.
"Defy you?" I huffed angrily. "All I've asked is that you hear me... That you treat me as the equal you claim I am, but still you would say I am defying you?”
"You hold no authority to question me."
I shook my head. "If you would earnestly rule over this realm with fear and chains then you are not the man I thought you were.”
He took a step down from the stairs. “I am not a man. I am Dream of the Endless and I will not bend my rules for anyone, not even you.” Not even you.
I held his cold gaze, tears building in my eyes as I spoke, one last warning in hopes he’d listen. “If this is how you would choose to rule then you shall do it alone."
His voice was solid and dark even with the tears building in his eyes. "I have ruled alone for millennia, I shall continue to do so."
Holding back the tears I nodded, closing myself off from him completely. The action drew a near inaudible noise from him and the pain in his eyes was evident as I bowed to him. "Very well then. Forgive my insolence, Lord Morpheus. It won’t happen again." I turned and looked at Gault, offering her a sad smile. "I'm sorry Gault."
"Do not be," she bowed her head, not just a show of her respect and gratitude but of defiance. "My lady."
Without another word I walked away, walked straight to the bedroom and stood with silent tears streaming down my cheeks. Resting atop the duffle bag beside my wardrobe a butterfly beat its wings. The fear and the powerful urge to run filled me. It's what I knew, what had always felt safest in situations like this, full of fear and uncertainty. I grabbed the bag and tossed it over my shoulder, leaving the palace. I moved quickly through the crowd that gathered in the town, ignoring their hushed whispers and making my way to Cain and Abels. Their garden was slowly withering, the ground icing over as I got closer.
"My lady!" Abel cried, taking in my appearance. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I said quickly. "I just..."
Cain emerged from his home with a worried look on his face. "What's happened?"
I sighed. "Nothing."
"You're leaving?" He asked, eyes glued to my bag.
“For a little while, just until things calm down a bit.”
Cain’s face curled up in anger. “This is his doing isn’t it?”
Setting a hand to his cheek I shook my head. “I just need some space, I think we both do.”
He leaned into my palm. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“We don’t want you to leave,” Abel corrected, setting his head on my shoulder. I smiled, pulling away to wrap both of them in my arms.
“It’s not forever. I’ll be back.” They said nothing else as I wiped their tears and tapped Goldie's nose before looking up at the statue. I squeezed the bag in my hand and pressed a kiss to the cold marble. “Watch over them for me.”
When I arrived in the Waking World it was pouring rain. Normally I would have loved this weather, danced and skipped in the puddles, but tonight it just felt heavy and cold. I hurried to the door, knocking lightly. Hob Gadling looked surprised to see me, more so he looked worried as he took notice of my deflated expression. “Penelope?”
My lips wobbled as I tried to smile. “Can I stay here tonight?”
He pulled me into his warm embrace. “Of course you can. Come on, lsts get you dried up."
***
Penelope held his eyes, tears evident within them as she spoke again, “If this is how you would choose to rule then you shall do it alone."
“I have ruled alone for millennia, I shall continue to do so." Dream said, strong and stoic, but filled with repressed fear at the mere thought of being alone once again.
He felt her close herself off from him completely, her steady hum of emotion and thought gone… the heartbeat in his chest slowed and slowed until it finally ceased. He felt empty, alone just as she said he would be. Watching her bow to him, acting as though she was nothing more than another of his subjects cut deep, but her words cut even deeper. "Very well then. Forgive my insolence, Lord Morpheus. It won’t happen again." She turned to the Nightmare. "I'm sorry Gault."
"Do not be, my lady." Gault bowed to her, the action spurring his anger.
Penelope didn’t turn back to him, didn’t offer him anything more as she walked away. Lucienne looked down at her feet, eyes glossy with repressed tears. The sound of her feet moving through the throne room died down and he was left with nothing of her to reassure him that her love was still there.
At the base of the steps Gault held her head up high. “I shall take comfort in knowing I am not the only one no longer afraid of you. Better darkness than a life of making others afraid. Even a Nightmare can dream, my lord.”
He watched Gault fade into the nothingness of his shadow, the fire in her eyes reminding him of the way Penelope’s looked whenever she saw Roderick or Alex. The thought made him twist with an unsettled feeling as the mark on his arm felt numbed by the loss of her. Lucienne hadn’t moved or said a word, but Dream could feel the discontentment within her. “Do you feel her punishment was unjust as well?”
“I used to be something else, before you made me your librarian. We all change, sir, even you perhaps. One day.” Though her words were spoken softly, the fear within Dream made him tighten the ever slipping grip he had over his power. His realm.
“Lucienne, I realize that in my absence, you were compelled to make decisions in my stead, and I am grateful to you. But I am back now. You may return to the library.”
All the hope that had been in her eyes faded as she turned away from him and slowly fading from view. For a while longer he stood in his throne room, for the first time in months consumed by the utter silence that surrounded him. He felt like he had before his capture. Strong, powerful, in control… alone. Drawing in a deep breath he turned, moving quietly through the halls until he stood at the doors to his room. She would be angry with him. He expected that. What he did not expect was to push the doors open to find the room completely empty.
Dread filled him as he looked around, the balcony, the washroom perhaps? His eyes landed on the spot beside her wardrobe, the spot that the ugly duffle bag had once been sitting in… the spot that was now empty. No. He told himself. She wouldn’t have left. Surely it had not come to that yet. His feet moved quickly, carrying him through The Dreaming with haste.
He checked the lake, empty.
He checked the library, empty.
He checked Mervyn’s workshop, empty.
He checked the town, empty.
When at last he’d made his way down the path toward Cain and Abel’s homes The Dreaming had started to tremble beneath his feet. The two brothers were already outside when Morpheus crossed the bridge, looking sadly at their garden. What had once been vibrant and beautiful, full of butterflies and life was now… Dream felt his heart clench as he looked at the withering flowers and trees. The Dreaming curled around him, growing colder and colder the further he walked into the garden.
Cain brushed dead leaves off the marble statue as Abel took notice of him with a sad gaze and bowed his head. "Lord Morpheus."
Dream didn't say anything as he examined the growing frost, but he took note of Cain's stiff posture as he continued cleaning the statue without even sparing him a look. A tremor ran through the ground beneath his feet as bright light filled the night, drawing everyone's gaze upwards. Tears filled his eyes as he watched the stars fall from the sky, each blazing across the sea of night until none remained and darkness cast over The Dreaming. His realm was consumed by dark skies and chilled winds as The Dreaming reacted to the loss of its lady, but unlike the times before, Morpheus had nothing… no one to blame but himself.
***
Hob Gadling had been very accommodating, offering me his spare room and cooking excessive amounts of food in an attempt to cheer me up. We watched movies all through the night when sleep had eluded me. He was a good friend, but I knew I couldn’t stay here forever. Being around Hob reminded me of the man we both loved… the man that would surely come here looking for me. And at present I didn’t want to be found.
I had finished repacking my bag and as I held the key in my hands decided that it was finally time to see what Pierre had left to me. Perhaps whatever it was would ease the loneliness that grew in me every day. When I stepped out of the guest room Hob was pulling on his coat with a smile. “I’m coming with you.”
“Hob, you’ve done enough for me already. You don’t have to-”
“I want to,” he said, holding a hand out to me. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you go out in the middle of a storm in the dark?”
I shook my head with a sigh of feigned annoyance and smiled at him. “You are an insufferable degenerate, Hob Gadling.”
“You must stop talking like that, Strange Penelope, or I might think you like me.”
With Hob beside me the task ahead didn’t feel as daunting. We sat in the cab, he told me stories of course, and insisted that I come to meet his students one day. Offered to dedicate an entire class to me, insisting that I’d certainly be more interesting than he was. The old office space slowly came into view, two large men standing out in the rain beneath an umbrella, smoking quietly. Beside me Hob tensened, the sight was probably quite ominous to a normal - or more normal - person. I squeezed his leg. “Don’t worry, they’re quite lovely.”
“You have odd friends,” he said.
As soon as I got out of the car they turned to me with smiles and praises in French and Italian. “Penelope! It has been far too long!”
“Luis, Maddock,” I addressed them both, pulling them into hugs. “It’s good to see you.”
Maddock, big and burly with dark curls of hair nodded to the building. “We left everything exactly as he did.”
Luis, slightly shorter and less burly than his partner, took a long drag of the cigarette. “You ready? We can wait if you’re not. There’s no rush.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I said softly. "What is this place?"
Maddock's eyes were gentle as hell spoke, "The empire of The Marquis."
The key slid into place in the lock, clicking quietly as it opened. The two men stood away from the office door, letting me into the building with slightly bowed heads. I turned to Hob, who stood beside the cab underneath his umbrella. “I’ll be right back.”
Boxes filled the space, old paintings in ornate frames and glass cases of jewelry and gems. I looked at the things Pierre had gathered over the years with a lonely sense of fondness. Everything here was all the things he considered important enough to keep. A box had already been set on a small table, my name written in Pierres messy handwriting labeled the side. I ran my fingers along the faded writing before opening the box. On the top of a pile of covering an envelope read Ma moitié. I forced myself to open it, to keep breathing despite the burning ache that tightened in my throat.
Ma moitié, my half, my lovely Penelope,
If you are reading this it means I've paid my debt at last. I can only hope I left you in good hands and that you will be safe and loved in my absence. Maddock and Luis are my most trusted associates, and they will do as you tell them. They will protect you and watch your back in my place. I leave you my empire, all the things I've collected in my travels as well as all my accounts, it is yours, it always was.
This box holds that which I valued above all else, the things I loved, it too is yours. I hope these things are enough to bring you comfort. I am sorry, Ma moitié, for the pain I have caused you. It is my hope that I died as I lived, foolish and reckless, and that you are safe as you read these words. Goodbye, my heart, my goddess, my everything, my Penelope.
P.S. Tell the witch that even though she's a cunt that for a Constantine she's a good person, the best among them, and that I enjoyed every near death experience at her hands.
I was crying quietly, glad that the others had stayed outside, as I pulled myself together and lifted the covering out of the box revealing what Pierre held closest to him. The first thing was a silver locket, a small braided lock of both our hair inside with a small picture of us. Then there was his jacket, the old one that he stopped wearing years ago. I lifted the smooth black leather to my face, inhaling the familiar scent of his cigarette smoke. Beneath his jacket was a tiny box with a small marble stone, a piece of Greece, a small reminder of a large chunk of our time together.
An old shoebox was filled with various trinkets, some from the years he lived before me, but most were small memories of our travels. There were a few old loose photos of his brother, a man Pierre had looked up to and lost long ago. And two wreaths of dried flowers from both his mothers wedding and her funeral. His old camera, something he used to constantly have with him, sat idly and covered in a thin layer of ribbon, ribbon from the first gift I'd ever given him. And there at the bottom of the box was another thick envelope titled what I love most in French.
The second I opened it I began to cry in earnest. It was full of pictures… Pictures of me, of us. I shuffled through them, smiling at the memories we had together, at the photos he'd written messages on, until I found one that filled the hole in my heart his absence had left. It wasn't the best one, not flashy or elegant, but it was real and it felt the most like him. I'd stolen his camera one morning, wearing his pajamas and smiling wide. Pierre was beside me in his jacket and a torn apart shirt, hair messy, cigarette loose between his half smiling lips and his hand lifted finger extended flipping off the camera. Scribbled in the corner was: you were a bitch that day, I loved it.
I carefully set everything back in the box except the photo, his jacket and the locket, closing it with a soft kiss. "Merci. Au revoir, mon Pierre."
I slid the locket over my head and put the jacket on, curling into the lingering warmth it seemed to hold and carefully put the photo in my pocket. Looking around one last time I moved toward the exit and back out into the rain. Maddock and Luis stood side by side sharing an umbrella, quietly speaking to one another in French while Hob stood off to the side, awkwardly waiting beneath his own umbrella.
Maddock and Luis looked at me with smiles. "Need anything boss?"
I shook my head. "Not at present.”
"Call if you need us and we'll be there." Luis handed me a small card with each of their numbers. "No matter what."
"Thank you, both of you."
Hob waited until they got in their car before coming to stand beside me. "We should get out of this rain."
I smiled up at him. "I appreciate you coming with me and letting me stay the night."
"You're leaving," he said, with a sad look. "Where will you go?"
Shrugging I stepped out beneath his umbrella and smiled. "I don't know."
He sighed, seeming to sense he wasn't going to be we to convince me to stay. "Will I see you around?"
"Maybe," I laughed. "In a hundred years."
"Goodbye, Strange Penelope."
"Goodbye Hob Gadling."
As he moved back toward the cab he hollered over the rain, "A hundred years! Don't be late!"
For a while I walked through the rain, my heart heavy and my mind exhausted. I thought of home. The warmth of The Dreaming, the bickering of Matthew, Lucienne's wise words and books, Mervs sarcasm… Dream. How I wanted to curl up in his bed and press myself into his chilled skin. I closed my eyes tightly, the familiar sinking feeling consuming me. I could hear echoes of waves beating against wooden walls, the creaks and groans of the ship as it moved.
This time when I opened my eyes to find myself on the broken steps of the museum I wasn't confused or afraid. I simply walked through the broken door and moved past the destroyed art and whispering weapons to the back room. The hole in the floor was still there from my last visit, wind whistling loudly through it, but I didn't mind. I walked around it, tossing my bag on the feather covered bed and sitting down on it with the heavy loneliness filling the silence. Laying down and curling into the smell of smoke and the warmth of my jacket I silently cried. I wanted to go home… if there was a home left to go back to. But all I had was the crushing weight of nothing.
The ANGST train has arrived and y'all already bought the tickets, so let's dive into these TWs! 😅
TW: Dreams thoughts (yep, he's getting his own warning), insecurities, smut, fluff, coldness, harsh words, fear, blood & violence, broken bones, fire, slight body horror, character death, angst (she's here to stay for a hot minute), grief, cliffhanger (this ones terrible guys, I honestly feel bad about it and feel compelled to prepare you for the absolute EMOTIONAL DAMAGE that is coming)
The Dreaming had been brighter and more full of life than ever before. As Dream stood on the balcony of his bedroom, looking out at his realm he felt light, lighter than he had in a long while. Things were perfect here, just as they should be… Well… Almost perfect. He looked down at the town across the river, at the large group of butterflies that filled the area and sighed. Even from the palace he could hear the laughter and joy echoing from his subjects, such things had become a common occurrence whenever Penelope was among them.
At first all he could feel was pride. He was glad they loved her and that she loved them, and even more so he was proud that she'd moved into her role as Lady of The Dreaming without hesitation. But, that pride, that joy quickly soured by the ache, the fear, that had plagued him from the beginning. Dream began to take note of every time their fun, joyousness deflated at the mere sight of him. He took note of the way they addressed Penelope before him, bowed lower for her, smiled and looked at her with love. Their love for her only grew, while it seemed the love they had for him was either frail or nonexistent.
It hurt. All of it. He'd stopped joining her in her outings, turning his attention to matters of The Dreaming and unknowingly walking head first into yet another more common occurrence that made his ache grow. The Dreaming had always been his, from the start it bent to his will, it brought forth what he willed. As the days turned to weeks of Penelope's constant presence The Dreaming began to shift… Change for her. He knew it wasn't intentional on her part, knew that even if she'd mastered whatever power she had of his she would always seek permission before changing things on such a scale, but that only seemed to make him feel worse.
Even The Dreaming loves her more than me. He thought coldly. Her playful words during their game so long ago now haunted him. "We are equals, you and I. Whom will The Dreaming be more inclined to listen to, I wonder."
Dream closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He loved Penelope, loved her more than anything and he was happy with her, happy that she was here beside him as his equal. So… Why? Why did his chest tighten every time he saw her with his subjects? Why did the ache grow every time he discovered a new field of flowers, or forest or pathway forged by his realms love of her? What was he so afraid of?
Of course, he knew the answer, deep down, but Dream of the Endless was not ready to face such a thing… Not yet. Instead he forced himself to move, to walk out of the palace and across the bridge to the town. The crowd parted for him with reverent, respectful bows and murmurs of his title. In the center Penelope wove her threads, creating various objects at the request of his subjects. She was smiling, laughing with them as they watched her in awe, hardly even noticing his presence. Dreams' hands tightened, but he did his best to focus on her, on her joy and love instead of his ache.
When she pulled the small snake figurine from her threads and handed it off to whomever had requested it her eyes met his and her smile grew. "Well hello there, my handsome Dream."
His subjects turned, bowing and addressing him properly. Their laughter and joy faded with each step he took closer to his lady. The crowd thinned, dreams and nightmares alike returning to their duties. That ache pulsed, only soothed back to its constant simmer by her touch as she pressed her hands to his chest and smiled up at him. Dream forced the heat of his negativity out with a soft breath as he looked down at her beauty. "Hello, my love."
She saw him, or rather what he was trying so desperately not to show. "Are you well?"
"I am," he lied and though she saw through it, saw straight to his soul she said nothing. "I thought you and I could spend some time together, reading perhaps?"
With a hum she tapped her fingers against his chest. "Would we be reading, or would we be reading?"
He chuckled softly. "Which would you prefer?"
"The one I always prefer?" She grinned, moving to his side and holding her hand out to him. "Back to the palace? Or was there somewhere else you had in mind?"
Dream felt her unencumbered adoration of him flow steady and strong and everything else seemed to melt away at the heat of it, of her. With a gentle smile his hand slid into hers, grasping it tightly and bringing it to his lips. "I will go wherever you wish." Her smile and the slight uptick in her heart echoing in his chest filled him with peace. This was all that mattered. She was all that mattered.
They walked across the bridge, the stones humming with every step she took, and back into the palace. Every room lit up brighter, the colors of everything popping in a way they simply hadn't before, in a way that the human eye couldn't possibly detect. As he watched her talk to Lucienne his eyes drifted to the stained glass window noting that even it had changed, the image of butterflies and hills of lilacs filling the space and glowing. Penelope's face was now illuminated in a soft, rainbow of ethereal light. It was beautiful, just like her. Dream couldn't help the way his eyes slid down her body, the form fitting gown he'd made her hugging all the right places. He found it ironic that when designing her clothes he would spend hours imagining what she'd look like in them, but now that she wore them all he could imagine was what she looked like without them.
Her eyes caught him staring and she smiled, finishing her conversation with Lucienne and returning to his side as his librarian disappeared into the maze of bookshelves. "What's going on in that Endless mind of yours?"
"I am simply appreciating your beauty," he admitted with a reverent smile. The blush that rose to her cheeks flooded him with the insatiable urge to be closer to her, an urge that had become far too normal between them as the months had passed.
"I'm just having a conversation with Lucienne. It's not like I'm naked and twisted up in your sheets." Now that was a sight he'd never grow tired of. The light from the windows casting kaleidoscopes of light and color across the skin of her back. The pale purple sheets wrapped around her, leaving just enough of her body exposed to capture his gaze for far too long. She caught the familiar glint in his eyes and swatted his shoulder. "Stop it!"
"What?" He asked flatly. "I'm just standing here."
A delicate finger stuck in his face. "No, you're looking at me like that! And that look always leads to the same place."
Dream tilted his head down at her, something she hadn't expected judging by the quiet gasp she made. "If I'm not mistaken that place is a favorite of yours."
"Oh I'm very fond of it," she said, eyes flashing to his lips for a split second before she shook whatever thought was coming from her mind. "But this is Luciennes library. It'd be like smoking in a church."
"Luciennes library?" His voice was low, soft, just the way he knew she liked it. With a powerful step forward he'd forced her back into the table. "This library is part of The Dreaming and The Dreaming, my darling, is my domain."
"You'd take me here then?" Though there was a flicker of nervous doubt in her, he could feel the want in her, raging and filthy like his own. "In some darkened corner of the dusty library where anyone could happen upon us?"
Her chest was now flush with his as he gazed down at her, hungry and impatient. "I would."
The wicked gleam in her eyes sparkled. "Then do it."
Dream needed no further prompting as he grabbed her by the waist and picked her feet up off the floor, moving swiftly through the shelves deeper and deeper into the farthest corner of the library. Though it was his by right, he'd not disrespect Luciennes' claim to it after all her years of loyalty. The least he could do was take this sinful business of theirs far from her. He willed a thin veil to close around them in the small section of the larger room. The thrill of being caught tantalizing as it was, could not become a reality. Dream would never allow any the privilege of seeing his lady so exposed, such was for him alone.
As he set her feet back on the ground, keeping her close, Penelope looked left and right before pushing back against his chest and smiling wide. "Now what, oh mighty Endless?"
The surprised squeak she made as her back hit the bookshelf caused a ripple of pride to flow over him. Her legs squeezed together as he dragged his nose along her jaw. "Now, I believe the plan was to take you. Though it appears I'm spoiled for choice."
"Dream of the Endless uncertain of what he wants now?" She teased. "How unlike you."
"I want you," he clarified, pulling away to look into her eyes.
The ache in his chest lessened, almost vanished completely as she touched his cheek with her warm hand. "You have me."
The words, soft and earnest, stilled the fire in his veins. His lady's moonstone eyes sparkled up at him and for a moment Dream felt entirely consumed by the love she bore him. Even as he stood here, shielding the ugly twisted jealous ache in his chest, something he knew she could feel her love did not falter. From the start Penelope had loved him with no expectations or conditions. She'd loved him through years of silence and unimaginable pain. Loved him even when she thought she meant nothing to him. Loved him enough to attempt to come for him, not once or twice but many over years. And now that she was here, in his arms, pushed against him looking at him like he was perfect and worthy of happiness, of her… For the first time in days the ache in him was gone.
As tears welled in his eyes she brought her other hand to his face. "You are magnificent, Penelope."
She tried to hide her face, hide the blush of her cheeks and the flustered batting of her eyelashes but Dream moved quickly, securing his fingers under her chin to keep her face turned up. He wanted to look at her, to see the innocent way she reacted to his words. "You flatter me, Dream Lord."
Flatter. The word was far too tepid to describe what he wanted her to feel. No, that wouldn't do. "I do not wish to flatter you, my lady. I wish to worship you."
"You have," she giggled back at him. "Many times."
"Not enough, he insisted, pulling from her touch to fall to his knees. "I will worship you until the end of all things… Until the darkness closes in and engulfs me and then in whatever existence waits beyond this I will continue to worship you."
Her breath stuttered as he began lifting her dress. "Morpheus…"
"Shh," he squeezed the soft flesh of her thighs, gently easing them apart. "Just moan for me, my love."
The sound of her laughter was far more beautiful than any symphony. "Back at it with the commands I see."
"It's not a command," he corrected, halting his movements. "Rather a humble request."
"Humble isn't a word I'd use to describe you, Dream," she said with another laugh as she opened her mouth to speak more. He ran his thumb across her covered mound and watched all thoughts fade from her as she gasped.
Dream wasted no time, pulling her panties down her long legs and chuckling at how she eagerly moved out of them. He lifted her dress up into her already waiting fingers and ducked his head down to press a kiss to her thigh. He sunk his teeth into her flesh before soothing the bite with his tongue, kissing his way to her core.
The sweet taste of her filled his mouth as his tongue slid through her slick folds, lapping up the wetness of her. As he worked his tongue with the experience of thousands of years he focused solely on the sounds she made. Penelope was exquisite in every situation, but in these intimate moments this fact was amplified. She always started out so soft and quiet, every moan and gasp barely audible, but the longer he pushed her the louder those sounds became until The Dreaming itself shook around her.
"Morpheus," she whined as his tongue circled her clit. The way she said his name was angelic, addictive. He'd had worshipers before, but no prayer, no gentle murmur of his name had ever sounded as perfect as hers. His hands squeezed her tighter, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder to open more of her to his mouth. A wave of fabric washed over half of his head as one of her hands abandoned holding it in exchange for tangling in his hair. "Fuck."
He could hear her head hit the shelf and in the back of his mind he imagined her, head thrown back and chest heaving, the thought alone spurred him on setting a grueling pace with his tongue before sliding a finger into her, moaning greedily at the way her cunt squeezed around him. Dream added another finger and listened to her moans grow louder. "Oh, Morpheus!"
Yes, he thought to himself, ignoring the uncomfortable strain of his cock against his pants. Give me more, my love. Moan louder, scream until the whole of The Dreaming hears you. She'd heard him, he knew she had by the desperate whine that left her throat and the way her blunt nails dug harsher into his scalp. Her legs trembled around his face as her orgasm grew closer and closer. He focused on her clit, sucking it and twirling his tongue over the abused little button until finally she came on his fingers.
She pulled his hair, forcing him from the folds of her dress in a demanding request that he was well familiar with. Rising to his feet he barely had time to lick the remnants of her release from his fingers before she greedily pulled him into a searing kiss. As always she was impatient and needy and desperate as she tried ridding him of his clothes and god did he love every second of it. Her moans as he dug his hands into her hips, the way her fingers twisted and pulled at his shirt or his hair, the frustrated whines she made when she struggled to free him of his pants. He loved every moment.
"Take your clothes off," she uttered with a pout.
Dream chuckled, running his thumb over her bottom lip. "Is such a pitiful face truly necessary?"
Her lips twitched, almost smiling. "That depends, will it make you move faster?"
"Oh I fear I cannot resist giving into your whims with such a sad display," he played along.
"Then yes, it's necessary."
He chuckled at her but waved his hand and rid them both of their clothes nonetheless. His eyes trailed over her bare skin, want and hunger and appreciation filed him. No matter how many times he saw her like this, naked and trailing kisses over his skin, he'd never grow tired of it. He lined himself up with her entrance, easing inside as he pressed his mouth to hers, tangling their tongues together. She was always so warm and inviting, even in these moments of pure bliss her body pulled at him.
The library filled with her labored breaths and wanton moans as he gently eased himself out and then back in. Dream was not the most vocal lover, but he always found himself purposely holding back noise just so he could hear her. As her nails dug into his shoulders he couldn't help but moan at the feeling and quicken the pace of his hips, squeezing her thighs tighter as they lost themselves in one another. He lost count of how many times he made her come before she desperately pulled his hair and kissed his throat, mumbling near incoherent pleas against his skin until he finally came, buried deep inside her pulsing cunt.
He watched her regain her breath, head set back against the bookshelf, skin glistening in the light and a faint blush spread over her breasts and neck all the way up to her cheeks. As she looked up at him with her blissful smile he moved them to the bedroom, settling her back against the sheets and pressing his head to her neck. This was all that mattered.
***
The threads had grown easy to twist and pull in the weeks I'd spent practicing. I could make practically anything now, with quick and fluid movements. It had been almost four weeks of being in The Dreaming with short trips to the waking world to catch up on information with Pierre and Johanna, but so far things had been quiet. Normally quiet would have made my mind run anxiously, but being here, home, made it easier to breathe. They wouldn't make any big moves, not until they were sure I would be there to lure out. The Dreaming now acted not only as my home but also my hide away a safe place in a dangerous time.
I spent a lot of time in the town, getting acquainted with the dreams and nightmares that dwelt here, an uncontrollable urge to see everything made by Dreams hands was just ever present. It was so beautiful, all of it, and though I'd spent time here before it had begun to feel more powerful somehow. As that feeling grew so did the veiled poking of Dreams' new emotional bubble. I felt it more each passing day, but it was the most noticeable whenever we were near his subjects. I'd wanted to talk to him about it, but every time I tried to bring it up he'd insist it was nothing and just push further away.
He busied himself through the days with matters of The Dreaming, something I understood and supported, but began to feel like an avoidance now more than anything. At night we'd sit on the balcony and share his bed and simply be with one another. Whatever feelings he was hiding seemed to bother him less then, but they were still there and it grew more difficult not to pry, not when I could feel it bothering him, but I did my best.
I spent my days similarly to Dream, pouring myself into honing the abilities and duties of my new roles. I'd start in the library, practicing and studying the threads with Lucienne. After a week I'd begun venturing out further and spending more time in the town among Dreams people, ones that would be my own if he was serious about making me his queen one day. At first I had just been passing through on my way to Cain and Abels, but they all looked so sad and I couldn't help but try to ease that sorrow.
Matthew stood on the library table beside me, watching eagerly as I pulled little nuts and berries from my threads for him to snack on. He and I had talked at length about Dreams mood, sadly the raven provided little insight. "I swear these are better than real berries!"
"They are real," I reminded him.
"You know what I mean!" He replied, gobbling it down just as greedily as the last. "Anyway, I wish I could be more helpful. I know how his moods affect you."
Shrugging I gave him a gentle pat. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure once he's ready to talk about it he'll come to me."
Silence filled the space and Matthew cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, totally because that does sound like something he'd do."
"Shut up," I groaned laying my head down on the table, admiring the threads of The Dreaming before my gaze settled on the smoking bird. His white thread pulsed strong, as did the blue vein, but the black had started fading over the past month. A new color was beginning to show through it, not quite clear enough to see just yet.
"Any color update?" He asked once he noticed me looking.
"Not yet," I said. "Stop stressing about it."
"I'm not worried. Just curious." He cawed and nudged me with his beak. "So, we're gonna just sit here and mope all day?"
The light from the window caught my ring, reminding me of the idea I'd had a while ago. "I could actually use your help with a project."
"Penny has a project? I'm intrigued!"
"Do you know where to find any stones?"
His head tilted. "You need a rock?"
"A gem or something shiny," I corrected. I doubted a rock would be appropriate for what I had in mind.
"I've got a few spots we can check. Come on!" He took flight, leading me out the palace doors and off into The Dreaming.
As it turned out Matthew had an impeccable sense of direction, finding a quiet little lake a ways away from the town that was full of precious stones glistening at the bottom. It was beautiful, so beautiful that I quietly decided to bring Morpheus here once he'd found the time. Knee deep in the crystal water I picked up a few stones, only taking the ones I'd considered back to Matthew for inspection. He was also easily impressed by shiny rocks as every option got the same enthusiastic response, but I was a harder critic and none of these would do.
It had to be larger, but not outright gaudy. Had to have a rectangular or squarish shape and of course it had to have that Dream quality, which was apparently harder to acquire than he made it look. Matthew flapped his wings. "Maybe I'd be more helpful if I knew exactly what it was you're looking for."
"It has to be big, but not too big and it has to look good but not too good," I replied, eyes scanning the jewels.
Matthew cawed loudly. "Ah, yes, that's very helpful information."
I rolled my eyes at him, dropping another stone back into the lake. "It has to be something Dream would like."
"Okay, maybe that green one to your left?" He offered up. "What's this for anyway?"
"A present." I said examining the green stone before releasing it.
"You're taking this kinda seriously. What's the occasion?"
"There isn't one. I just wanted to do something nice for him." A rich blue caught my eye and I carefully moved deeper into the pool to retrieve it, holding it up to the sunlight and admiring the way it glittered like the night sky. This one was perfect.
Matthew flew to my shoulder, inspecting it closely. "Now that's a pretty rock."
"You think he'll like it?"
"He'll like anything you give him, Penny." He assured me. "But if he doesn't you can give it to me," he joked as I made my way out of the lake.
I walked back to the palace examining the stone in my hand with a smile. When I looked up Dream was standing on the bridge and speaking to someone with a vague look of concern tugging at his face. It seemed to vanish when he saw me, excusing himself to walk toward me. "There you are. I've been looking for you."
Squeezing the stone in my hand I shrugged. "We were just taking a walk."
His eyes rolled down my body and his head tilted at the sight of my wet clothes. "Why are you wet?"
"Why are you worried about it?" I said dismissively as he took my hand and we moved to his room where he grabbed me a towel to help dry me off a bit.
"Nice deflection," Matthew complimented from my shoulder.
Dream, however, didn't budge until I finally relented. "I walked through some water. It's not a big deal."
His starry eyes regarded me with an inquisitive glint. "You're up to something."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But you don't need to know what."
"So long as you're remaining safe I'll not question it," he promised. "Next time just tell someone where you're going so I can find you if I need to."
With a nod I sighed. "Fair enough, though I was under the impression you could find anyone within The Dreaming."
He stiffened slightly. "You are the exception to that, it would seem."
Matthew distracted Dream while I stuffed the jewel in my bag of trinkets and then flew off to do whatever it was he did at night. Dream helped me undress, massaging my shoulders and using his seductive lips to melt any tension I might've had in them. But, as we sat in the silence, the rainbows of the stained glass casting the rising moonlight over us I couldn't ignore the ache in him any longer.
Turning in his arms I smiled up at him, easing my fingers over his creased features. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly.
"Dream," I sighed. "You can't lie to me like you do everyone else. I feel it, every tiny speck of the emotions you pretend aren't there."
"It is-"
"It is eating you up inside, Dream." I cut him off with a frown. "The longer you sit there and tell me it's nothing the more I can feel it. The crushing weight of whatever it is you're feeling."
He looked thoughtful for a moment before it was gone. "I apologize, I didn't realize you could feel it this much."
"That's not the point," I said. "I don't care if I feel it, I'm used to feeling your emotions. What I do care about is that you're killing yourself trying to hide it from me."
"It is not your burden."
"YOU are my burden. You and your wellbeing have everything to do with me and mine. All I want is to help you, to be here for you." I held his face in my hands gently.
A frustrated sigh left him. "You cannot help me. These are matters far beyond the compression of mortals."
It hurt, the sudden callousness of his voice but more so the implication that I was just another human to him. I didn't bother covering up the pain and Dream did not pretend like it wasn't there. I moved away from him slightly, the action spurring him to move, to hold onto me. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was inconveniencing you."
"You..." He sighed, setting his head to my shoulder. "You're not. Forgive me, I didn't mean to-"
"It's alright." I replied, pushing my own pain away and curling my fingers into his hair. He was right, in a sense. I didn't know what he was going through, not the way Death or Destiny would. "You're the king and an Endless. I won't pretend to know what it's like to bear that responsibility. I was just... Everyone needs help, Morpheus. Even you. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you, however you need."
"I know you are," he whispered. "I'm sorry that I made you feel I don't appreciate your presence here. I do, greatly. It's just… An adjustment."
I nodded. "I understand. And I should probably return to my world soon."
He pulled his head away, looking down at me with a frown. "Penelope-"
"It's okay. This is your home, Dream, and I'm a guest. It's okay that you need a bit of space. Besides," I shook my head and squeezed his hand. "I've left Johanna alone with Pierre for too long. Any longer and she'll probably kill him."
"Yes, and that would be a true shame indeed," he replied with a light teasing tone. He pulled me into his chest. "But, this is your home too. I don't ever want you to feel like it isn't."
I smiled, pulling him down into a kiss. "I know."
We sat on the balcony together, looking out at The Dreaming. His arms wound around me from behind, holding me tenderly and close. The ache he felt had lessened but it was still present enough for me to lean back into him. "You have a beautiful kingdom, and good subjects, my lord.
"They have lost faith in me," he replied so quietly I nearly missed it.
"Why do you think that?"
"They abandoned The Dreaming in my absence. And upon my return they…" He sighed into my hair. "They do not care for me as they do you."
I turned a little to look up at him. "That's not true, Dream."
He offered up a sad smile. "It's alright. I just wish things could be different."
"Things can be." I looked back out at the town. "They miss you."
"How do you mean?"
"They miss the magnificent Dream Lord that would walk among them and make new and beautiful things." I said turning to him. "All of them speak of you as though a part of you was lost, the part that enjoyed this job and all that came with it."
Dream thought on my words for a moment before speaking. "I do enjoy this job."
"Show them that," I urged.
He brushed his fingers against my face. "I adore you."
With a smile I curled into his embrace. "I love you, my grumpy king."
"I'm not grumpy."
"He says while pouting."
***
Dream had accompanied me back to the apartment, and had saved me from losing an eye to a crossbow bolt as we immediately popped in between Johanna and Pierre as they fought. Pierre was on the other side of my bed with a knife aimed and ready to throw while Johanna had just busted my door down and started letting bolts fly. The two of them were impossible as I sat them down on the couch and scolded them like children. They cleaned up their mess and fixed my door while Dream and I said our goodbyes.
That had been last week and the waking world felt like it just kept dragging on. Every day was the same, filled with planning and calling contacts and trying to track the movements of the doctor and his associates. It was tedious and stressful and I longed for the night, for Dream to come visit. Every night he stayed beside me, smothering the anxiety and fear that filled me during the days and every night I slept peacefully. Matthew had of course been assigned to watch duty, often spending all day beside me or out patrolling the streets in an attempt to help us avoid trouble.
I sat on the couch beside Johanna, rubbing my eyes, dry from looking through so many maps and papers. She set her head back against the couch. "God this sucks."
"Researching usually is, Jo."
"That's why I make you do it and not me."
"You two should stop being so negative!" Pierre shouted from the kitchen. "It attracts bad luck!"
I could practically see Johannas veins pop. "We wouldn't have to be so negative if you'd come help for once!"
He scoffed and I had to physically move my legs into her lap to keep her from getting up and beating his ass. "I am making macarons, witch! This requires great attention to detail and patience. Things you seem to know little of."
"That's it!" She hollered.
"Both of you enough!" I shouted over them. "I know tensions are high, but we'll figure it out. Together. We always do."
Pierre peaked his head out of the kitchen and smiled. "Spoken like a natural born leader, Ma moitié."
I rolled my eyes and looked up at Matthew, who sat perched on the coffee table. "You up for another fly around town to check this new information out?"
He gave me a nod and Pierre exited the kitchen, pulling on his jacket and prepping a cigarette. "I'll go with the bird. Two eyes are better than one. Besides, I need a few ingredients for my macaroons."
"Be careful you two." I returned to Johanna's side and glared down at the papers. "We have to be missing something."
"I don't know what," she admitted. "We've gone through every possible channel and every one of my contacts. This is all of it."
All of it and yet it gave us nothing. These papers revealed sightings and old, long abandoned warehouses but nothing new or current. The gaps in between the dates and the information left too much open and in turn left us blind. Damn it all it was frustrating. After another thirty minutes of useless digging Johanna ordered food while I showered, both of us burnt out and nearing the breaking point.
We ate in silence as Pierre returned without Matthew. Dream must've needed him, I told myself as the Frenchman settled onto the couch beside me and ate with us. His light hearted jokes seemed to ease some of the tension, but the sad truth was each of us went to bed that night plagued by a fear that we wouldn't find anything useful in time. Matthew was waiting in my room with a flower in his beak. I sighed and took the flower from him. "He's not coming tonight is he?"
"Sorry Penny, the boss got swamped last minute with some nightmare business."
I nodded, and sat down on my bed beside him. "It's okay, he can't always be running back and forth between his work and me here."
Before I could even try to stop them the tears had fallen down my cheeks and I quietly began to sob. Matthew scooted in closer. "Hey, it's okay Penny. I'm sure he'll be here tomorrow night."
"That's not…" I sighed. "It's just been a really long week."
"I know," he replied, setting his tiny head on my lap. "I'm sorry."
I cried for a while longer, Matthew doing what he could to comfort me, but it wasn't until my door opened and Pierre wordlessly wrapped his arms around me that I felt the stress start to lessen. Matthew moved to the curtains as Pierre pulled me into the bed, curling up and rocking me a little. "The lover is busy tonight?"
Nodding, I closed my eyes tightly. "Will you stay with me?"
Pressing a kiss to my hair he nodded. "Until the end, Ma moitié."
I didn't sleep well that night, but Pierre remained beside me, even as I tossed and turned and woke up screaming. He stayed. The next morning was rough, but each of us were determined to find something today. Pierre left early, his associates had called with a new potential location he wanted to check out. Johanna and I poured ourselves into a new file that she'd managed to convince some doctor to send her and Matthew had been called back to The Dreaming to update Lucienne, who'd somehow gotten roped into digging through the library, and Dream on things here.
Hours passed without a word from Matthew or Pierre and though Johanna's lead had been a good one dread settled in me. "How long has it been since Pierre left?"
She looked up from her notes and at her watch. "Five hours."
"That's too long," I said, pulling out my phone and calling his number.
One ring. Two. Three. Four until at last the line connected. "I must say I'm a bit disappointed, Barlow. You're usually more on top of your little playthings."
The deep voice was one I'd recognize even if I were deaf. Dominic "The Bull" Porter had been one of the first to join the doctors hunt for me. He enjoyed cruelty and inflicting pain and fear on others and he'd killed nearly every one of my friends over the years. And now, it seemed, he had either killed or taken Pierre. "Where is he?"
"Oh he's here," he assured me with a smile in his voice. "Say hello Marquis."
"Ma moitié, do not come!" Pierre said, pained and desperate. "Do not come for me."
He knew I'd never agree to that, knew I'd never abandon him. Johanna had risen from her spot and disappeared into the office as I spoke to The Bull. "What do you want?"
"You." He answered simply. "Come alone and unarmed and I'll let him go."
Liar. I knew his games. Knew exactly as Pierre did, that The Bull left no survivors. "Alright. Where are you?"
"A warehouse, I'll send you the address." Echoes of Pierre screaming filled the line and my seething anger grew. "And, Barlow, no funny business."
The line went dead as Johanna came out of the office, decked out in weapons and pulling on a pair of gloves. "Is he still alive?"
"For now," I said tensely. "Sounds like he's gone through a hell of a beating though."
"Get your stuff and let's move."
I walked quickly to my room, grabbing the black bag from under my bed and unzipping it to reveal the black attire I'd thought was long behind me. Dressing quickly and pulling my blades from their box I sighed. We're coming, Pierre. Just hold on.
***
Dream sat in his bed, leafing through the pages of the book and absorbing the information quickly. Rumors had begun to spread through The Dreaming, whispers of there being signs of a Vortex. Dream had of course kept the information quiet while he looked into the matter on his own. If a Vortex had been born he needed to be ready, though focusing was proving difficult as his mind was filled with thoughts of Penelope.
He missed her, all that reminded of her time beside him was the lingering smell of her on his sheets and hanging over her clothes. Missing their meeting last night had been difficult for him. He knew she'd understand, but he could feel the faint lingering of her disappointment and stress. Their search was taking a toll on her. Every night he offered to help and every night she refused. It was annoying, but after the display the doctor had provided nearly a month ago he understood. He had no desire to return to the glass cage, he just wished he could help her more.
The books on Rose Walker had given him much information and so he sent Matthew from Penelope's side for a short moment to catch a simple view of the girl. He merely needed to see her, her home and those around her to keep an eye on the situation.
***
As the darkness of night overtook the sky Johanna and I watched the warehouse from across the street. This was a trap, obvious and set to perfection in nearly every way. The Bull was not just big and strong but also cunning. He loved to play with his food, the food in this case being me and Johanna. We watched the workers move about, obviously not real warehouse men or women judging by the stiffness of their movements and the way their eyes looked around constantly. They were ready and waiting for us.
"What's the plan?" Johanna asked. "I counted ten outside, though inside there will definitely be more."
"I want to keep this quiet. We take out as many as we can in the main area, move inside slowly and just work through the place room by room."
"And if that doesn't work?"
"Then we'll need to split their focus between the two points of entrance." I said pointing. "You move in through the back here while I move in front here. They'll be forced to take us both on and hopefully that'll be enough."
Johanna crouched beside me. "Any clue where they're keeping him?"
I tilted my head to the top floor. "There. The Bull wouldn't leave him on the lower floors. He wants to draw us in completely."
She sighed. "And once we are in? You know this is a trap, they'll swarm the place the second we get to the top."
"We'll either have to take a leap out one of the lower windows, aiming for something on the softer side. Or we'll have to just push out through whatever floor we can."
"This is going to be awful."
"I know." Sparing her a look I pulled the black cloth up over the lower half of my face. "Be careful."
"You too."
I blended into the shadows like I’d been doing it my whole life, my footsteps were silent as I made my way around the tall fence and to my own entry point. As I stood, waiting in the cold silence for Johannas signal I steeled myself as I had before taking any life. Pierre’s life was all that mattered tonight. A sharp whistle echoed through the warehouse lot and my feet moved without hesitation, leveraging myself up and over the wall with ease. Moving through the large pieces of equipment and shipping containers I followed the guards paths, mentally taking note of each one before looking past them to Johanna as she waited across the lot. One nod. One nod and one knife loosening from my boot. Get Pierre. Get out. Get Pierre. Get out.
The first guard moved past me only an inch before I reached out and pulled him into the shadows, digging my knife deep in her throat and holding her mouth shut until she stopped moving. The second peaked out between the containers just in time as I threw one of the multitude of tiny, thin knives and watched it hit the target with precision. The third came back into view just as the second guard went down. The noise of him and his heavy gear falling against the pavement drawing the third one's attention and setting my trap into motion. I moved swiftly through the maze of things until I ended up right behind him at the exact moment I needed to. His hand lifted up to the radio on his shoulder, but he never got the chance to press the button. I pulled my blade from him, setting him down gently and then moving out of the way just as the fourth guard came into view above on the stairwell.
Johanna was already there, a small knife barely catching the light before she leapt from the darkness and pulled him down to the ground, smothering any noises he could make. From her perch she looked down at me and gestured to the side door, holding up three fingers. Three more.
Using nothing but my hands I asked her how many she could see inside. She turned and looked inside the small window, her hand forming the circle and sending the dread straight to my gut. Zero? That wasn’t possible. The Bull would never make this so easy. I shoved my thoughts back down and moved to the side door, cutting through the guards similarly to the others and waiting bedside the door as Johanna moved inside and opened it. In a hushed voice she shook her head. “There's no one inside on this or the second floor.”
“Keep your eyes open,” I warned as we moved to the stairs. “This might be a bigger trap than I thought.”
“Fuck.”
Johanna was right, the entire warehouse was empty. We checked every room between us and the stairs, all empty. There were small signs of things being moved around, empty boxes and skid marks along the dirty floor. This had been an active site for them, but something had changed and they’d moved, quickly by the look of it. On the top floor the openness of the space did little to ease the worry and apprehension that filled me. Pierre was tied to a chair, cut up and beaten, half conscious as his head hung in front of him. But, just like the other floors there was no one else in sight. “I don’t like this.”
We moved to Pierres side, now in a rush. Get Pierre. I shook him gently, a relieved breath filling my lungs as he started to come to. “Take it easy. They fucked you up pretty good Frenchie.” Johanna said as she began cutting the ties that held him.
He smiled a little, wincing at the way the movement pulled at his busted lip. “I told you not to come.”
“Did you think we were gonna listen?” I asked, eyes scanning the room. “We weren’t ever gonna leave you here.”
“It’s a trap,” he said softly. “I don’t know how but it’s a trap.”
“Obviously,” Johanna said, bitterly. “A bit more gratitude would be appreciated, you know.”
“Gratitude?” he scoffed. “I’d be far more grateful if you’d have stayed out of it.”
She groaned. “God you’re such a fucking asshole.”
Pierre rubbed his wrists as soon as they were free. Get out. “And you’re a cunt, it does little to change the fact that we’re all fucked now.”
“How?” she demanded. “I don’t see anyone.”
“If you think they are not waiting with something then you’re a fool, witch.”
A soft noise filled the room, melodic chimes and tunes. Music. Quiet music played in the far corner of the space. I walked toward the large tarp slowly, the ball of anxious dread forming in my gut shifting into an all consuming wave. Johanna and Pierre bickered behind me, their voices fading as I lifted the tarp and felt my heart drop. "Get out."
"What?" Johanna turned toward me.
"Get out of here now!" I said louder, taking a step back.
The tarp slid from its perch over the boxes, revealing the mess of wires and blinking lights. "Fuck."
Pierre cursed in French. "This is overkill."
"Move carefully, watch your steps." I cautioned keeping my eyes glued onto the firestarter. Hopefully there was something here to indicate how much time we had left to-
The sudden burst of heat and blunt force slammed into me without warning and I flew back, head hitting the ground. Darkness swarmed my vision as heat and smoke rolled over me.
***
Dream had just finished returning his books on Rose Walker to the library. His mind hummed with possible strategies to handle her when her power as Vortex got out of control, none he liked. He’d set the last book on the shelf when he heard his sister's voice asking for entrance into his realm. It was unusual for Death to have time for a visit, but Dream was glad that he’d get to see her as he made his way to the throne room with a smile. "My sister, it's good to see you. I was not…" She turned, a serious and sad look on her usually bright face. "What's wrong?"
"I need you to come with me, Dream." She said, "Now."
***
Every inch of my body burned as I slowly came to. Smoke had consumed the ceiling and flames licked at every exposed section of the warehouse. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move as a heavy weight became unbearably apparent on my chest. One of the thick beams had fallen in the blast, fallen right on top of me crushing my chest. Gasping for air felt even harder as the room filled with smoke. My bloody hands fumbled uselessly against the splintered wood, trying to find some kind of purchase, something that would help me push the weight off. Tears stung my eyes as I groaned, kicking my feet and writhing.
"Pen!" Johanna shouted from across the flame filled room. She coughed a few times. "Don't you fucking do this to me Barlow!"
I closed my eyes and sighed. "Get out Jo!"
"Fuck that!" She yelled back. "I won't leave you!"
"Go!" I insisted as another section of the floor crumbled around us. "Please, Johanna! I'll find a way out, just go!"
I couldn't see her, but I'd recognize the sound of her quiet, repressed sobs anywhere. "You promise? Truly fucking promise?"
My lips wobbled but I forced the words to sound true. "I promise!"
"Get out, Pen. Or I swear to God I'll kick your ass!" Her coughing and voice faded slowly as she found a way through the growing flames.
Another set of coughs and raggedy wheezing joined my own as a figure stumbled out of the smoke towards me. "You should not lie, Ma moitié, it's not tasteful in situations like this."
A weak sob left me at the sight of him. Cut up, bloody and beaten but still standing. "God you're an ass. Will you try to help me, Pierre?"
"Always, my half," he whispered, hurriedly wiping my tears and moving to examine the beam that pinned me. "Quite the pickle you've gotten yourself into."
The pain only grew as my dry throat constricted with a bleak laugh. "Yeah, well, if it weren't for your pickle my pickle wouldn't be this bad."
"A fair point," he wheezed out. "Time to lift, slowly try to move once I have it up."
"Okay," I agreed. "Be careful."
"One." Grinding my teeth together I slowed my ragged breaths. "Two." I steadied my legs, grinding the heels of my feet deep into the floor. "Three!"
The weight lifted off me and I forced my shaking legs to try and push me out from under it. Even with both of us the beam did not move. The pressure eased as we lifted it just a little but then it came crashing back down with a vengeance. As I whined and sobbed Pierre came back to my head, his face lacked all his usual sarcasm. "Fuck it's that bad?"
"It's not good," he admitted. "Can you move at all?"
Every inch of my body filled with pain as I tried to move my legs. I could do it, could force the movement, but it would still take too long to lift the beam. "Barely."
"I'll just have to pull harder then."
"Leave me. Please, Pierre just leave me and… And get out," I tried, but the second the words reached him he scoffed, clasping my hand in a tight grip.
"Stop! I will not abandon you, not ever. If you burn I shall burn by your side."
Heavy footsteps echoed around us. "Such a lovely sentiment. The Stewards said something similar when I put them to the blade. I'll never understand what it is about you that inspires such foolish loyalty."
"Fucking bastard," I ground out. "Why don't you just stay dead?"
"Sorry, doll, I've got a job to do."
Pierre stood between The Bull and I, fists clenched and mind set. "Keep trying to get free, Ma moitié. I'll handle him."
"No!" I cried out. "Go Pierre, please go!"
He turned, smiling down at me. "Hurry, the flames won't wait long"
"God damn stubborn French ass!" I groaned desperately, clawing at the bean, pushing to get it off me as Pierre and The Bull faced off. "Lift damn it!" I begged as the sound of Pierre taking blow after blow echoed in my ears.
"Isabel run!"
She stood between him and I. "I won't leave you!"
"Pathetic," The Bull chuckled.
I watched helplessly as she got in a hit, two before he threw her to the ground again and again and again. I screamed her name as the blood and bits of flesh began littering the pavement.
Everything stopped as Pierre hit the floor. The Bull kept punching, again and again and again, blood coating his fists and spraying across the floor. "Pierre!" No. I forced my arms under the beam and pulled with all my strength. Just fucking lift! I felt the weight ease off my chest just enough and pushed my feet across the floor, sliding out from beneath it at last. Weak and battered, I crawled across the floor, grabbing my discarded blade and forcing myself to keep moving toward them.
The Bulls blade blazed in the firelight as he lifted it into the air and quickly forced it down. Pierre's scream of pain sent anger and fear through me as I forced myself up, jumping onto The Bulls back and digging my own blade in his shoulder. With a roar he threw me off of him and stood, tossing my blade at my feet and stumbling back onto a weaker section of floor before falling through it completely.
Pierre's ragged breaths were all I could hear as I moved to his side. He was beaten, bones twisted and broken and blood and insides spilling from his gut. I choked on a sob and pressed my hands to his wounds. Weakly he spoke, "You have to go."
"No. Come in, we can do this," I insisted, pulling him up a little. "If you can just stand for three minutes I can… I can…"
Pierre's legs didn't move, didn't respond to any of the movements or stimulants. My breath caught in my throat as it all started to sink in. He couldn't move. That fucking bastard had paralyzed him. We settled back onto the floor, I kept his head propped up with my jacket and pressed my hands down hard into the gaping holes in his abdomen. He couldn't move, but that didn't mean he wouldn't live, I just needed… I… I needed…
The sight of his real smile broke me. "I'm afraid this is goodbye, Ma moitié."
"No," I insisted, hands pushing on the sound tighter, pushing past the unbearable clawing that came with the feeling of his blood on my hands. "No. No. No. You're going to be okay… You don't… You can't…"
Pierres shaking thumb brushed away my tears. "All things have to come to an end. Even stubborn French assholes like me."
The smoke was becoming unbearable now as I coughed with each heavy breath. "Pierre I can't… I can't do this without you."
"Yes you can," he insisted. "You have the witch and you have the lover."
"But they aren't you," I sobbed desperately, pulling one hand away to fist in his stupid jacket. "I need you. Your stupid jokes and… And your greasy hair and the cigarettes… I can't… I…"
He shushed me softly, his hand weakly cupping the back of my neck. "I am ready to go. I had been ready long before I met you, but then…" He chuckled. "Then I had you to live for."
"Then live you bastard!" I shouted. "Don't give up on me now! Live!"
"I have," his dark eyes sparkled in the firelight. "Because of you I lived, and now it is time for me to finally repay that debt."
I held his head in my hands. "You already paid it! You paid it in that fucking alley, you paid it in... in Spain and, and in Greece and every moment after. You've always kept your promises, so don't… Don't you dare break them now."
He groaned weakly, the pain finally starting to set in. "Ma moitié, you can't stop this. Neither of us can now."
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. I curled into his side, laying my head onto his chest and holding his hands in mine. "I… I…" Pierre was right. Damn him he was right. As the flames grew higher and the smoke filled the room I held my friend tighter, closing my eyes and whispering raggedly, "I'll stay with you. Until the end I'll stay."
"Stubborn ass," he huffed with a pained cough.
"Always."
I focused on his weak stuttering breaths beneath me, ignoring the discomfort of the heat and the stinging of the smoke, ignoring everything but him. Pierre, for the first time since I'd met him, was quiet and it made every silent second all the more painful. Footsteps, light and reverent fell into place against the floor and a familiar pair of back boots settled into view beside me. Even through the fire I could feel her warmth, but this time I wasn't glad to see her, wasn't comforted by her presence. This time it hurt.
"I'm so sorry Penelope," Death said quietly, a gentle hand touching my shoulder. "His time's up."
A weak noise left me as I curled further into Pierre. He stirred, head turning to look Death up and down with his signature cheshire grin. "Oh, you were right ma moitié, she is beautiful indeed. Goddess, I only need just one moment."
"Take your time."
My lips quivered as Pierre's hands tugged at mine, pulling me to sit up and face him. Death knelt beside him, waiting. I knew what he'd say… Knew he'd tell me to leave. "I'm not leaving you."
He shook his head. "You must. Not even you would survive these flames. Go, Penelope."
"No. I have to… I… I can't..." I set my forehead to his. "I can't leave you…"
With shaking hands he pressed his favorite necklace into my palm, the pendant and the key practically burning me as it all came crashing down on me. This was real. This was it. "It's all yours… It always was."
"Don't…" I whispered. "Please…"
"I love you, Penelope, Ma moitié, more than I could have loved anyone." With a tired groan his head turned again, eyes looking behind us. "Take care of her, lover…" Dream? "Or not even the beautiful Death will keep me from coming for you." A quiet moment passed, an understanding, and then he sighed, squeezing my hand one last time. "Take her home."
"No," I choked out as the biting cold of Dreams' familiar grasp settled on my skin. "No!" His arms wound around me, pulling me up into him, our bloodstained hands forced apart as he moved away from Pierre and Death. "Dream stop! Stop! Please!"
Then in the blink of an eye the burning walls and smoke were gone, replaced by the pristine white marble of the throne room and that meant... A harsh sob echoed around us as my feet hit the floor and Dream released me from his hold. No. "Take me back." Silence curled around me. I turned and looked up at him, ignoring the clear pain in his eyes, ignoring the way he gently reached for me with a soft whisper, ignoring everything. "TAKE ME BACK!" Tears slid down his cheeks as my fists slammed against his chest. "Takemeback! Takemeback!" Cold hands wrapped around wrists as my angry yells turned to desperate cries. "I have to…" My legs crumbled beneath me as the room began to quake and his solid back figure followed me to the ground. "Morpheus please!"
"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. The floor beneath us shattered and cracked as I sobbed and screamed in his arms. "I'm so sorry."
My Pierre was gone.
***
Dream watched Penelope as she sat on the edge of the bridge, quietly weaving the threads between her fingers. It had been a month since Death had come to him. A month since he’d followed her into the burning building and watched his love say goodbye to the Frenchman, a man she loved with everything she had. He still felt guilty for tearing her from his side, her desperate pleas for him to stop… for him to return her to the fire haunted him. What hurt most was watching her continue living.
At first she’d remained in his room, barely eating, not sleeping, working through the initial shock of her grief. It had only taken her a week of this to request a trip to her apartment, where she packed the rest of her things into a bag and said goodbye to Constantine. He watched them fight, watched Constantine tell her to stay, but Penelope refused. She hugged her friend tightly and told her to get out of London for a while, told her that she refused to lose any more friends because of her which seemed to calm Constantine's rage. He had Matthew follow her, ensuring she made it to the airport and on the plane safely before reassuring Penelope that her friend was out of harm's way. Once they returned to The Dreaming she poured herself into weaving. As the weeks passed she grew powerful, both in her weaving and in whatever power she held over The Dreaming. Rain filled the sky for days, only ceasing after she slowly began to return to the routine she’d built here before going to the Waking World.
Though she’d begun to eat and speak to her friends here all of them could tell she was struggling. Dream, saw it first hand every time they retired for the night. She’d settle into the bed beside him, but there was no peace in her, just echoes of pain and the sound of her friend's bones breaking. She woke up screaming every night and nothing he did seemed to help her. Penelope tried to act normally, tried to act like she was healing well. Her kindness and gentle nature hadn’t changed, and she offered both freely to everyone around. But in quiet moments like the one he was observing he could see the sorrow carved into her. Losing the Frenchman had taken a toll on her, causing her to retreat deep within herself to escape the pain of feeling it. In all his life he’d never felt so useless, not since Roderick Burgess.
He watched her weave for a moment longer before slowly moving to her side. She quickly hid away whatever it was she worked on and turned to him with a smile, soft and modest. Sad. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” she insisted. “It’s just a project.”
“One I cannot see?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not ready yet.”
Dream pressed a kiss to her head. “I have one last meeting for the night, then we can wander the gardens if you wish.”
“I’d like that,” she answered leaning back into him for a moment. “Go, get your work done.”
He hesitated, feeling the sorrow curl within her, but he followed her quiet command nonetheless. “I’ll only be a moment.”
Cain and Abel had not asked for much in their time in his realm. They mostly kept to themselves, tended to their own houses and gardens and stayed out of everyone else's way. So, when Cain of all people had requested a meeting with him he was worried, secretly preparing himself for the worst. The brothers stood, speaking softly to Lucienne as they waited. Their backs straightened as he entered the room and they bowed. “Lord Morpheus.”
“I must say I am surprised you called for a meeting, Cain. Abel.” He stood before them, waiting. “Is something wrong?”
Abel shook his head. “No! Nothings wrong, my lord!”
Cain rolled his eyes. “We had an idea, my lord. One that we hope would help ease our lady's grief.”
He tilted his head. “What do you have in mind?”
“A statue,” Abel answered.
“We humbly offer our garden as its building site.”
Dream couldn’t help but smile a little as he looked to Lucienne, who seemed just as appreciative of the brothers offer as he was. “Please call for Mervyn, we’ll begin designing it immediately.”
***
It had been a month and a half since the warehouse fire and life, as it always did, moved on. Johanna was spending time in Norway, helping a few associates with a demon problem or two. I’d paid the apartment off, giving her a permanent place for whenever she returned to London. That didn’t do much to make her less angry with me for leaving, but after everything… I looked out at the view of The Dreaming from the bedroom balcony and sighed. I couldn’t win against the doctor, not when he had every possible resource to use against me. Hiding here, laying low and biding my time was safer for everyone even if it meant I was a coward.
After taking a week to wallow in the loss of my closest ally and friend I’d done my best to jump back into the normal routine of things. I’d learned how to continue living after such a loss from the years of prior experience, but it was different this time. I had the whole of The Dreaming that seemed to grieve with me. Lucienne had brought me Pierre's dream log, something that I could read when I missed him. Matthew who brought me random gifts from the Waking World every time he visited. Dream, who remained beside me through all of it, even the worst parts. He always had open arms waiting for me when I woke from a terrible night's sleep and soft words every time he could feel the pain of my grief begin to grow too much for me to ignore. He made the month not just manageable but better, easier.
Though I’d begun to feel better, feel like myself, there was still an unbreakable and unshakable sense of loneliness that filled me. For once it wasn’t because anyone around me had neglected me or because I'd neglecting myself, but simply because of who I’d lost. Pierre had been a home for me, the only constant I had for a long time and losing that… Losing him was something I had never prepared myself for. In the quiet moments when it was just me I missed him. His stupid, crude jokes, the smell of his cigarettes, the feel of his hand in mine. I missed Pierre so deeply that I read his dream book every day in an attempt to ease the feeling.
I twisted the threads in my fingers, smiling at black glistening chain of the necklace beginning to take shape. The glistening blue jewel hung, encased in the black material that while similar to that of my ring lacked the starlight that Dream had given it. I’d hoped the jewel I’d chosen could provide that missing piece, but more I hoped that Dream would like it. After our fun at the old tavern I’d started noticing him touch his chest in moments of deep thought. A phantom action, one he likely did often when he’d had his ruby to wear. So I’d started this project, a necklace to gift him eventually… If I ever gained the courage to. He deserved something nice, something all his own after everything he'd suffered through and after everything he'd given me since our reunion and long before.
The door to the bedroom opened and I scrambled to hide the necklace as Dream entered and regarded my quick movements with an arched brow. “Should I wait outside?”
“No,” I laughed a little. “No, it’s alright.”
“I’m assuming it’s your project that you’re hiding from me?”
“Yep,” I confirmed moving to his side and wrapping my arms around his middle. “Are you done for the day?”
Dream smiled and shook his head. “I have one last task that needs my attention, but I was hoping you’d accompany me for it.”
I kissed him, the feel of his soft lips moving gently with mine easing the loneliness. “Always.”
He and I walked across the bridge and through the town, regarding everyone with small waves and smiles. When we turned down the path to Cain and Abels houses I looked up at him with a suspicious gaze, but he merely squeezed my arm. “There’s a new addition to The Dreaming that I have to approve of, or rather you do.”
“Me?” I questioned. “Why would I have to approve of it?”
There, standing tall and proud across the bridge in the center of Cain and Abels garden was a beautiful marble statue, a statue of Pierre. My breath caught in my throat as I pulled away from Dream's side and moved closer. Cain and Abel stood off to the side with Lucienne and Merv. Matthew perched on a small white bench overgrown with lilacs and peonies at the foot of the statue. They all bowed their heads as I approached, watery eyes looking up at the familiar face of my dear friend in his jacket with his hair slicked back and a cigarette in his fingers.
Abel spoke first. “We hope you like it., my lady.”
Merv sighed. “If there's anything off about it, just let me know and we’ll get right on it, kid… I mean, my lady.”
Matthew flapped his wings from below me. “The cigarette was my idea.”
I smiled as tears streamed down my cheeks. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Cain set a hand on my shoulder. “Of course not, but we wanted to. Now if you ever want to see him, ever wat to relive the memories, you can just come here.”
Turning and embracing Cain I sighed. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least we could do for you, my lady.”
Lucienne rubbed my arm and nodded to the base of the statue “Lord Morpheus insisted on adding the plague.”
In memory of Pierre Sauveterre, "The Marquis", loyal friend and brave protector of our beloved Lady.
More tears streamed down my cheeks as I traced the indented letters with my fingers before turning to look at Dream. He stood in the back, far enough away to give me space to work through my emotions, but close enough that I knew he was there. As I walked to his side, everyone else joining Cain and Abel inside for tea, I smiled. “Thank you. I know you didn’t exactly like him.”
Dream shook his head, wrapping his arms around me. “I would have made it as large as the palace if it would ease your pain.”
Laughing, really truly laughing for the first time in months I replied, “He would’ve loved that. He would have loved this.”
“I’m certain he would have. Your friend was not very humble.” Dream stroked my cheek and set his forehead against mine. “It’s good to see this smile again, good to hear you laugh.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”
We stood like that for a while longer before joining the others inside for a while. They seemed surprised that Dream had stayed, but seemed to welcome him with enthusiasm. As the sun set as we walked back to the palace, the moon casting a glow down on Pierres statue gleaming off the golden plague and bathing my friend in the adoration of The Dreaming.
***
Dreams day had began considerably well. Penelope curled up against him, her soft skin beneath his fingers and the pleasant sensations of their previous activities still lingering on his skin. However things hadn't stayed so calm. He’d sent Lucienne out to perform one final census of The Dreaming and its inhabitants while he saw to his final list of repairs, the ones small and inconsequential outside of his own notice. Penelope had gone to the town again, the jealous ache that had been plaguing him for months now was running high as he watched the glowing light of the stained glass follow her out the doors. After their initial, small argument concerning these feelings he had Dream was going to talk to her about it all. Then she’d lost her friend and he’d watched her suffer with the loss.
After that there never seemed to be a good time - a lie he’d told himself to put off the discussion - he didn’t want to upset her after she’d just begun to feel like herself again. So he’d pushed them down more and more every passing day. Buried them and ignored them until it had gotten to the point where every tiny shift in The Dreaming around his lady, every tiny bow and word of praise given to her by one of his subjects had sent an ugly pulsating pain through him, one he could not ignore.
He’d been short with everyone since then, on edge and trying desperately to keep hold on the control he was so used to having. Penelope made that difficult. Her inquisitive nature and kindness made it hard to be anything but in love with her. And in love with her he was, desperately so, but his jealousy was born of fear… of a deep seated need to be in control and it had a power of its own.
“I have completed the census you requested, Lord Morpheus.” Lucienne came to him in the throne room, opening up the book in her hands.
“Good. And?”
“I have accounted for 11,062 of them.”
Matthew shifted at their feet as he and Penelope returned from the town. “Wow. Someone’s been busy.”
Penelope gave Lucienne a pat on the arm. “Don’t work too hard now, Lucienne.” She then turned to him and smiled brightly. With her smile the glass behind them glowed once again and through his admiration of her beauty the ache shifted into a sharp stabbing pain.
“Yes, well…” Lucienne said dismissively as she handed the book to Dream, allowing him to look through it. “There are a handful of new entities.”
“That is to be expected.”
Lucienne’s demeanor shifted, her eyes darting up to Penelope and then to him. “But… three of the Major Arcana are gone.”
Anger mingled with the stabbing pain of his repressed emotions as he darkly replied, “Name them.”
“The first is Gault.” At her words the stained glass shifted behind the throne, moving to form the image of the nightmare. “A nightmare, who I must say, I never trusted.”
“She is a shape changer. It is not in her nature to be trustworthy.” He said coldly as Penelope's fingers brushed against his own. “Who else?”
“The Corinthian.”
The glass in the center above the throne shifted, pulling to reveal the image of his prized nightmare. “I assumed as much. Still feeding on the dreamers he was meant to serve.”
“Yes.” She said softly.
“The last?”
“The last is Fiddlers Green.”
“Fiddlers green?” He questioned as the last pane of glass changed to the green and blue hues of the meadow. Dream shook his head. “That is passing strange. He is, after all, vavasor of his own dominion and always so reliable.”
Penelope stared up at the glass, bathed in its glow. “So these are the last residents of The Dreaming?”
Lucienne nodded. “Yes, my lady, the only ones that it seems are not too keen on returning.”
She looked to Dream and smiled gently. “Three of ten thousand isn’t too bad.”
He admired her ability to find the light in this dark situation, but as the glow around her grew so did the pain of all he’d kept buried as well as the fresh pain at the knowledge that this was his doing. “This is my fault. Had I been here fulfilling my function-”
“It was not your fault, my lord.” Lucienne assured him with a quiet look of determination.
“No?” He asked. “Then whose?”
“Roderick,” Penelope said matter of factly. “He tore you away from your work. He is to blame for the damage that was inflicted during your absence.
At the mention of his name older pain mingled with all that he already felt. Anger, jealousy, pity, sorrow… It was too much. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I had been able to escape earlier, none of this would have been able to happen.”
Penelope tilted her head, a thoughtful look passing over her face. “You can’t dwell on what ifs Dream. The past is set, it’s how you handle the future that matters.”
Without thinking he scoffed. “A human way to look at things.”
“Yes, well that is what I am,” she replied, her eyes swimming in the hurt his words had caused. “Is that such a problem?”
Dream shrugged off the question. “Your humanity has not been an issue, your lack of dream however, has prolonged both our suffering.”
“Excuse me?” She demanded coldly.
“If you had been able to dream I could have used them to escape the night you entered that basement.” He replied, unable to stop the words now, the emotion he’d held such a tight grip on at last spilling from inside him.
“I didn’t ask to have my dreams taken away,” she reminded him. “It was your brothers actions that resulted in that.”
“Destiny had his reasons,” he said coolly. “He is an Endless and holds a responsibility you could never understand.”
Penelope’s eyes lit up with fire and at the sight of it he felt his whole body react. “The Endless aren’t above understanding, Dream. And my dreamlessness has been far more of an inconvenience to myself than anyone else.”
"If you hadn't been so useless in aiding me during my capture then I would have been freed before my subjects could even think of deserting!" A silence hung in the air as his words settled between them. He was flooded, overflowing with anger and fear and everything he'd been burying for months now, and though he knew his words were not truly aimed at Penelope she did not.
"Useless?" She hissed. "I did more for you than anyone else! You speak like the Endless are so superior and yet not one of them came for you."
"Choose your next words wisely."
Choose she did, fire in her eyes she spoke again, "They left you to rot in that basement. I was the one that suffered alongside you. I was the one that kept Jessamy safe when you couldn't and I was the one that burned her body so that you could one day mourn her!" Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and Dream wanted to curl in on himself as her pain filled him. It hurt so badly, she hurt because of him, but his anger overshadowed everything, every sane thought telling him to stop this. "It wasn't one of your siblings, your precious Endless nor any one of your nightmares or dreams that kept you from withering away in that glass cage. It was me."
His jaw tightened. "Watch yourself, mortal."
She scoffed, taking one last step towards him, putting them chest to chest. "Mortal. Lady. Soul bound. Weaver. Useless. Nothing." His jaw twitched and the anger in him softened at the word. In his anger he made her feel like nothing… Just as they had spent all those years telling her she was. In his anger he'd made her feel inferior to him, to his family… He'd made her feel like they had. Dream didn't mean this, none of these words were meant for her but for himself. It was him he blamed for all the ruin that had befallen his realm. "Which am I, Morpheus?"
Dream opened his mouth, mind set on apologizing, on righting the wrongful hurt he'd shifted onto her shoulders instead of his own, but before any words could come pain seized him, a pain he knew. Something dark and powerful pulled at him. Into the darkness. "No…" The breath began to slip from his lungs, replaced by burning fire. "Not again."
The world around him was hazy, beginning to blur in and out of darkness and too much light. All he could feel was her warm hands, holding his face. All he could see was her wet tear filled eyes. Her voice echoed around him. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."
He'd heard this before. No. he forced his hands to move, to grab hold of her, the soft fabric of her dress filling his palms. Not again. Don't leave me. Her lips pressed to his forehead and he shattered beneath her. "Penelope..."
"Forgive me," she whispered against his skin, pulling away from him slightly, the pain and haze in his vision pulling with her.
His strength began to return to him as he drew heavy breaths into his lungs. "Penelope please!"
"I'm sorry." His hands gripped tighter and tighter and then she was gone completely. Dream collapsed to his knees, eyes glued to his empty shaking hand. She was gone. His breath stuttered with the realization. She took his boon... Took his place. She was gone again.
He could hear Lucienne's quiet sobs and Matthews pained caws and restless flapping. He could feel The Dreaming ripple and scream at the absence of its lady. With tears stinging his eyes he clenched his teeth and his hand. They did this, his thoughts sneered as darkness filled the room. "Find her," his voice was soft and final. "Find them. Every last one of them."
***
The second Dream began to falter. I had moved, had rushed forward to catch him. Not even the anger I felt or the hurt his words had caused me could keep me from going to him. "Dream?" He was wheezing, breath stuttering as if it were impossible for him to regain.
"No," he whispered, desperate and aching. "Not again."
Again. My eyes widened as the realization hit me. They were trying to capture him, trying to lock him away once more. No. He was too important to this world to be locked away again. He was needed, needed by every dream and nightmare, needed by Lucienne and Matthew and the humans. Not this time. I pulled the world of threads up, eyes scanning and desperate for something, anything!
A figure made of black smoke blindly moved through throne room, in its hand Dreams thread. The thread… They'd used it to find him, to trap him. That thread has two sides, I reminded myself and once the thought came to mind it locked into place. The world needed Dream, it didn't need me, not when another weaver would be born to replace me. He wasn't going back to that cage, not ever. I pulled his face up, cradling him in my hands one last time, eyes watery and everything shaking, I committed his face to my memory. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."
His eyes were darting around me wildly, fear and anguish filling the starry blue of them. I'm so sorry, my lovely Dream… for all of it. I pressed my lips to his forehead, branding them with the cold of his skin. "Penelope…"
"Forgive me," I sobbed against him as I pulled away, gathering his thread, as much of it as I could, into my hands and pulling the spell, the figure, to me.
His breathing grew heavy as the air finally filled his lungs and began to leave mine. Desperately and wildly he called out to me, "Penelope, please!"
"I'm sorry," I gasped as the shadowed figure grabbed hold of my arms and all breath left my lungs, along with Dream… And Matthew… And Lucienne… And home.
Gasping and writhing against the cold hard glass and too bright light that stung at my vision I tried to move, tried to breath, anything. Muffled voices surrounded me, my blurred vision filled only with the too bright light that surrounded me. Noise, vibrations, it was all too much. Air. I need air! My hand clawed at my neck as my lungs burned from the lack of breath until finally something broke, the gentle hiss of air music to my ears.
Finally my lungs filled and after a minute or two my vision began to clear, the ringing in my ears dying down as the old, decrepit and smiling face of the doctor became crystal clear on the other end of the glass. The relief I'd felt was stripped away in an instant and all I could feel was the raw fear and aching that came with the knowledge that he'd won.
Even in the wheelchair, hooked up to every machine and IV drip imaginable my mind painted him as an imposing threat, the biggest in the room. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise! Hello, my dear… Welcome home."
TW: mentions of blood, panic attacks, mental breakdowns, Pierre is an ass, SMUT holy cow, smut, Jealous/possessive Dream, aftercare, Fluff, memories, its a wild ride yall
“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow." The voice made my entire body ache, phantom pain bringing forth every memory of every slice and shock that had followed that voice for years. Terror filled me as my body moved back into the table. I wanted to run, my whole being screamed at me to run, but I couldn't move. “It has been far too long, my dear.”
I forced myself to keep breathing. Forced myself to ignore the way my skin crawled just at the sound of his voice. I cleared my throat, the words still coming out weak. "You sound like shit. Half assed immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be?"
"Ah so unruly. But you and I both know why that is." Tears began to fill my eyes. I knew exactly what he'd say. He'd said it so many times before. Giselle's body stumbled forward a bit. "If you let go of the anger, what are you, Ms. Barlow?"
My mind answered the question out of instinct. Nothing. But I bit my cheek, refusing to give him even the smallest amount of satisfaction of saying the word. The pale eyes sparkled and a bloody smile spread on Giselle's lips, but it was his. "Nothing. You are nothing."
"What do you want?" Pierre demanded from beside me, his body moved trying to shield Dream from view.
"Ahh The Marquis," the doctor said with a sigh. "I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name of the man that stole my money and broke our deal."
Pierre shrugged. "I'd say it was not personal but I don't like to lie."
The pale eyes shifted behind him. No. My body moved too slowly to block his view. "You did not tell me I was in the presence of the great Dream of the Endless."
"He has nothing to do with this," I said shakily.
"Does he not?" He chuckled and coughed. "Fear not, dear, so long as he remains out of our affairs I'll keep the glass cage empty. As for the matter at hand, I wanted to speak with you myself, to try and make you see sense, but…" They eyes looked to the bodies on the floor. "You've not changed, still refusing to see reason."
I ground my teeth together. "Go to Hell."
Another wheezing laugh and a gentle click of his tongue. "I'll see you again soon, with my real eyes. In the meantime you may want to call your friend… I fear she's run into a bit of trouble."
Johanna. I resisted the urge to immediately break. Pierre pulled his gun and shot out before I even recognized it, Giselle's head snapped back and she fell back to the ground. The phone on the table shattered and everyone was silent, still waiting to be sure he was gone. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and shakily dialed Johanna's number, holding it tight in my hand as it rang out on speaker. "Pick up." The ringing droned on. "Pick up the fucking phone Johanna!" I yelled, repressing the tears as the ringing trilled in. "God damn it…" Not again. No. No. No.
"Hello?" She answered weakly. "Pen, you there?"
Pierre took the phone from my hands, recognizing the familiar sight of me about to completely shut down. "We're here, witch."
I forced air into my lungs, desperately trying to calm the shaking. Their words blurred in and out of my hearing as my ears rang. "How is she?" Johanna asked.
"Not so good," he answered honestly. "I don't know if she can even hear us."
"Fucking bastard. When you get her back tell her I said I'm okay, it was just some thugs, no one good enough to get me."
Pierre knelt beside me from where I'd dropped onto my knees. When had I done that? He carefully reached out and touched my arm, finger curling around the scar. Pain, screams, blood everything boiled over and my body moved faster than my mind did, grabbing one of the daggers from the box and pressing it tightly to his sternum.
He went still, holding a hand up to Dream and Hob. Oh god, what would they think of me after this? The tip of the blade broke the skin as I heaved. "Look at me, Penelope." My name was wrong… Nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut. You're nothing. "Look at me, Ma moitié."
Ma moitié… Pierre. This was Pierre, my friend, my Pierre. I opened my eyes, looking up into his eyes as he smiled. "There you go. It's me… your other half."
My lips quivered as I breathed out a sob. He slowly lifted a hand to my face, wiping away my tears. "It's okay." How did they find me? The ugly, mistrusting and dark part of my soul reared its head, but Pierre noticed. Of course he did. "I made you a promise, you remember? I will never hurt you," he said softly. "I will never betray you."
Pierre. My mind finally came back into connection with my body and I eased the knife away from him, dropping it to the ground. His arms were around me in an instant, crushing me to his chest as broke down. "He's not here. He's gone. I have you."
***
“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow,” an old faintly familiar voice filled the room. Penelope’s stillness twisted into absolute terror and she moved to step back, trying to flee the voice, running into the table. “It has been far too long, my dear.”
This was him. Finally. Dream had been waiting to meet this doctor ever since he saw his face, saw what he'd done to Penelope, his Penelope. His eyes were glued to her ridged back, the bond between them swarmed and flooded with everything she felt. Her urge to run made him burn. Her want to slice the skin from her bones just to be free of the wrong feeling that coated her at the sound of that voice made his anger near uncontainable.
She made a noise, soft and forced. "You sound like shit. Half assed immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be?" It lacked all the venom and fire he was used to hearing. His gut twisted… She sounded scared. Never had he heard this voice, never had she allowed this raw, vulnerable weakness be heard by anyone, not even him.
A wheezing sound echoed in the room, a laugh following that made him burn hotter. "Oh, don't worry about me, dear. I'll remedy my condition as soon as you get here."
"Yeah? When I do find you I'm going to fucking kill you!" It wasn't a scream, nor a yell, but something in between. Something raw and animalistic, forced.
"Temper temper," the old man dared to mock her, to scold her like a child? "You were always so unruly. But you and I both know why that is." A broken sound left her, soft, so soft he doubted anyone but him heard it. "If you let go of the anger, what are you, Ms. Barlow?"
"Nothing." It was her voice, broken and shaking.
"Nothing. You are nothing."
"Nothing." She thought again. "I am nothing."
"What do you want?" The Frenchman demanded, moving just a little bit further in front of him.
"Ahh The Marquis. I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name of the man that stole my money and broke our deal."
This was perhaps the only time the man's smugness made Dream happy as he answered, "I'd say it was not personal but I don't like to lie."
The pale eyes shifted to Dream, and he held the stare, watching a grotesque smile spread on the dead woman's face. "No." She moved to block him from view, but the damage was done. "You did not tell me I was in the presence of the great Dream of the Endless."
Dream was proud, glad that this man knew who he was and thus knew, even just a fraction of what horrors laid in store for him when Penelope freed him of his oath. The feeling didn't last long though, not when his lady sounded so afraid, "He has nothing to do with this."
"Does he not?" Weak coughing filled the small devices speakers. "Fear not, dear, so long as he remains out of our affairs I'll keep the glass cage empty. As for the matter at hand, I wanted to speak with you myself, to try and make you see sense, but… You've not changed, still refusing to see reason."
"Go to Hell."
"I'll see you again soon, with my real eyes. In the meantime you may want to call your friend… I fear she's run into a bit of trouble." His eyes returned to her, watching as his words struck.
"Johanna."
The Frenchman shot the corpse, its head snapping back as it returned to the ground. The phone on the table shattered and the room went quiet, waiting. Penelope moved fast, pulling out her phone and dialing the number, clutching with all her might.Her hands were shaking so badly Dream couldn't see the screen clearly. Just this once he focused fully on her through the bond, honing in on every thought and feeling.
"Pick up." Desperation and fear held her voice, the raw pain of old faces flashing in her eyes, filling her vision. It was enough to make him want to weep, but her thoughts are what truly broke him. "Not her. Please don't take her from me. I can't do this. Icanticanticant."
"PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE JOHANNA!" She screamed her hand pulling at her hair so tightly he could feel it on his own scalp. "Answer. Answer the phone." The ringing echoed in her ears as her thoughts began to drown out every other noise.
"God damn it…" Her breaths were quick and ragged, "Not again. No. No. No. This is your fault. It's always your fault. You did this."
"Hello?" Constsntine spoke, sounding as if she was out of breath, but Penelope didn't move. The phone began to slip out of her loosening hands. His body twitched forward, but the Frenchman was already there. He caught the phone, worried eyes roving over Penelope as she stumbled back. "Pen, you there?"
He spoke softly, his eyes staying on Penelope. "We're here, witch."
Constantine sighed. "What happened?"
"The doctor decided to pay us a visit."
"In person?"
"No, through Giselle and a phone call." The Frenchman said.
Constantine kicked someone over the phone. "How many did she have to kill?"
The man looked at the bodies on the floor. But Dreams' gaze turned back to her as she slid to her knees, her hand clutching the box where her blades rested for dear life. "They'll never stop. They'll just keep coming and coming and coming." Her pain echoed through him. "Seven."
"How is she?"
"Not so good. I don't know if she can even hear us."
"Fucking bastard. When you get her back tell her I said I'm okay, it was just some thugs, no one good enough to get me."
"I will send one of my associates to help you clean up. Be safe, witch."
"You too, Frenchie."
He set her phone back on the table and spoke softly. "Penelope?"
She didn't respond.
The Frenchman knelt down, carefully reaching out and touching her arm. Dream heard the dam holding back her memories break. He heard every one of their voices fill her mind, all the screams of the asylum, the doctors drills and blades, everything. She'd moved almost too fast for him to notice, grabbing one of the daggers from the box and pressing it against the Frenchmans chest.
As much as Dream disliked the man, he was important to her and he knew she'd never forgive herself if she hurt him. He took a step, moving to stop her. The Frenchman held hand up, stopping him. She dug the tip of the blade deeper as her breaths grew heavier. "Look at me, Penelope."
"Wrong… I'm nothing. Nothing. You're nothing." He wanted to go to her, wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until every last one of these thoughts was silent.
"Look at me, Ma moitié." The man said, voice still soft.
"Ma moitié." The affectionate name stilled the cries and screams. "My Pierre." He felt a pinch of jealousy rise in him, but forced it away. None of that mattered right now. All that he cared about was bringing her back from the darkness that swallowed her mind.
"There you go. It's me… your other half." He lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her cheek. "It's okay."
"Liar." Her thoughts hissed. "He told them. He led them here. No. No. How did they find me?"
As if he could see the dark thoughts in her eyes the Frenchman smiled. "I made you a promise, you remember? I will never hurt you. I will never betray you."
"Pierre." Everything about her relaxed, the softness returning to her eyes as she looked down at the blood pooling on his shirt. "Oh god."
"It's okay." He assured her.
She was sobbing now as she threw the blade to the side and clutched his shirt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She chanted, pressing both her hands over the blood, as if it were a mortal wound.
He pulled her forehead to his. "It's okay," he said again. "Ma moitié, it's okay."
"He was here…" She sobbed, every inch of her shaking. "He knows!"
"He's not here. He's gone."
Dream watched her curl into the arms of her friend. He wished it was him she could find such comfort in. Wished he could be the one to console this side of her fears. He'd seen the memories first hand, but The Frenchman… Pierre had been there for all these moments when he had not. I trust him. She'd once told him, and only now did he understand just how much. Penelope loved him, she loved Pierre enough that her loudest, darkest, most consuming thoughts stilled at the sound of his affectionate name for her. It made him ache with jealousy and guilt, but he could feel neither. He just felt her heartbeat, listened to the thoughts and voices and echoes of the past fade away. Pierre had earned this moment. Earned her trust and love, and so, just this once, Dream looked down at them and felt relieved.
"I have you."
***
Pierre only let go once I was able to take full breaths, and even then he was attached to my side, acting as a shield to keep my eyes away from the blood and bodies that covered the floor. Everyone was silent as he picked my blade off the floor, cleaned it and set it back in the box. He looked at me and gently asked, "Do you want to keep them with you?"
I shook my head violently. "No. No."
"I will return them to the apartment in the morning. For now, you and the… Who are you?" He looked over the table at Hob, who looked more on edge than I'd ever seen him.
"Hob," he answered. "I own this place."
Pierre nodded, looking around. "It is very nice! Hob… Take Penelope to your home, it is up the road, yes?"
"Yeah…" Hob glanced at Dream and asked, "How did you know?"
"I was watching the three of you for a while before you came here." I shook my head at his far too honest admittance.
"You can't just watch people," I scolded him halfheartedly.
"I was not watching people, I was watching you." He corrected me with a kiss to the head. "Hob, take her to your home. The lover and I will await my associates."
I sighed. "Nows hardly the time for-"
He cut me off. "Go get yourself cleaned up. We will join you shortly."
It was rare for Pierre to give out commands, but when he did I knew it was something he considered important, and that he'd likely not change his mind. Looking up at Dream, the first time I'd been able to since I'd picked up my blades, I asked the silent question, are you okay with this? He nodded, turning to Hob and asking, "Is there another exit?"
"Yeah, round the back. I'll get her out of here," Hob stepped around the table and held his hand out to me. "How's that leg?"
I took his hand with a tired smile. "The cut isn't too deep, but I'll still probably need stitches."
As we moved to walk past Dream he stopped us and pressed a long kiss to my head. "We won't be long."
I spared one last glance at the two before Hob and I disappeared behind the kitchen door and silently prayed they wouldn't try to kill each other. The cut on my leg burned the whole hobbled walk back up the road, and I dreaded the thought of having to explain all this to Hob. He was calm, surprisingly so for someone that had not only witnessed an all out blood bath but then saw a woman rise from the dead. Though I supposed to an immortal there wasn't anything he'd consider far fetched at this point.
He helped me onto the couch, setting my leg up on the coffee table and moving to the kitchen. I stared at my reflection in the turned off TV and sighed. Their blood was everywhere, sticking to me like a second skin, and the longer I looked the more sick I began to feel. Hob returned with pain killers, water and a heavy first aid kit. "Take those, drink some water and breathe for a minute."
I followed his requests and nodded to the kit. "You gonna stitch me up?"
"If that's alright with you?" His dark eyes held that familiar tint of worry in them and I could feel the words rising from his throat. "I don't know what all that was about, but it seemed to be a lot for you."
"When you asked me what the worst ways I'd almost died were…" I paused, breathing in and looking away from his face. "Those people, the man they work for, they… They spent a very long time looking for me, hurting people to get to me."
Hob was gentle when he asked, "Why? I mean you're absolutely lovely don't get me wrong, but that just seems like a lot of fuss for one girl."
"Have you ever been captured?"
With a thoughtful him he considered the question. "Got burned at the stake once."
"Not like that," I clarified. "Taken by people that knew about your immortality, knew and wanted it."
"No," he said. "I haven't."
I wiped away the tears before they could fall. "I don't recommend it. They're not… They're not too keen on letting you go after they pull you apart and convince themselves that you're the key to immortality."
"If you'd rather wait for your friend to handle this I'll just clean the cut a bit… I know we don't really know one another that well." Hob sighed, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, that you had to go through that."
I sniffed and shook my head, ripping the rest of the fabric away from the wound. Meeting his eyes I smiled. "I trust you, Hob Gadling."
He opened the kit and set out everything he needed before putting on a pair of gloves. The sound of them stretching over his hands made me flinch and wrap my arms around myself. Hob squeezed my knee. "If it gets to be too much just tell me and we'll stop, okay?"
My fingers curled into my shirt and I nodded. "I'm… I'm probably not going to be able to keep myself from shaking. I'm sorry I know that makes this harder."
"Don't be sorry, love," he whispered, wiping away a rogue tear. "I've got steady hands."
Hob was amazing. He talked me through every second, made jokes about how his stitches used to be shit and just as he'd said when it got too difficult to keep the memories of harshly sewn wounds at bay he stopped. I didn't even need to say anything, he just knew. He took off a glove and rubbed my arm, using his touch and his stories to keep me grounded. Once he'd finished he covered it and sat beside me on the couch, pulling me into his arms and letting me cry.
It wasn't the same as with Pierre, I'd not lost myself to the memories this time and Hob was considerably more awkward, but I appreciated Hob's gentle nature and understanding. He probably had a billion questions and yet he asked none that were not important to the task. I sighed into him, my fingers finally uncurling. "Thank you."
"Anything for a friend," he replied, setting his cheek to my head.
"So, burned at the stake huh? What's that like?"
With a chuckle he spoke, "Not the worst way to go actually…"
As Hob told his story I closed my eyes and smiled. He did have a very nice voice.
***
Dream watched the Frenchman with a curious gaze as he lit a cigarette and smiled at him, but he made note that this smile was not like the others. This smile was veiled anger and a burning determination that he'd not seen in ages.
"Dream of the Endless," he finally said, blowing a plume of smoke towards him. "When the witch told me who, what, you are I should have assumed you were her man in the glass."
He said nothing, his hands resting comfortably in his pockets, and so the Frenchman continued. "She spoke of you often and fondly, even almost blew everything to return to that hell hole and try to free you. She would do anything for you."
Dream tilted his head a little. "As I would do anything for her."
His smile grew more tense. "Maybe, but you'll have to forgive me for having my doubts. Loyalty is a rare occurrence nowadays as one such as yourself knows."
"Why are we having this conversation?" Dream demanded.
"I need to know you are capable of doing what must be done." He answered plainly. "Penelope is strong, stronger than anyone I've ever met. But when it comes to the doctor," he shook his head. "She freezes. Her anger and her skill becomes useless and he knows this."
Dream looked the Frenchman up and down. "And?"
He sighed. "And when the time comes to put that fucker in the ground you or I or the witch will have to be the ones to do it. Against his goons she can take down anyone, but he speaks and she crumbles. There is only so much her damaged psyche can take before it snaps… As we just saw."
"She's strong, when the time comes she'll do what she feels is right." Dream assured him. "She always does."
"You have been in her life for what? A month? Two?" The Frenchman sneered. "I have been here for ten years."
Before Dream could retaliate, release the swelling of anger that puffed up at his words, the door opened and three men entered. "Got your message boss, is this the one?"
The Frenchman turned and looked the man in the middle up and down before he nodded. "This is him."
The sound of bones breaking echoed, surprising Dream as he watched the man lose his knees, only being held up by the other two men. The Frenchman pulled up a chair and they moved him to it. With a watchful gaze he shed the coat he was wearing and rolled up his sleeves. "They call you Tony, yes?"
"Y-yes."
"Tony, would you care to explain to me why you were seen speaking to this woman, earlier today." He gestured to Giselle and watched the man, Tony's, face carefully.
He stuttered, fear and pain clear on his features. "I was… I… I'm sorry."
"What did she offer you? Money? Sex? Immortality?"
"Money. She offered me a lot of money."
The Frenchman nodded. "At least you are honest. Sadly, this won't be enough to save you."
"Please! Please boss!"
Without hesitation the Frenchman began punching the man. The sound of his bones breaking under the Frenchmans powerful strikes echoed around them. Dream had seen brutality before, but this was cold and calculated. He hit not out of anger or a loss of control but to inflict a specific pain to a specific area. To send a message. He stopped for a short moment and sighed. "I would have made this quick if it was me you'd tried to betray. But it wasn't, was it?"
Dream couldn't see the man's face, but he didn't need to. The smell of fresh blood hung in the air as he whimpered. "Please… She's just… One girl."
"That one girl is worth more than three hundred of you." The Frenchman sneered. "She is all that matters! And I made her a promise, many years ago, I'll not break that promise because of worthless scum like you!"
The beating went on for a few minutes more before the Frenchman turned back to Dream and gestured toward the bloody sight. "I am willing to do what must be done, even when she would want me to be merciful. Are you willing to break her heart to do what's necessary?"
He scoffed. "I won't need to resort to such."
"You may think you're better than me all you wish, lover, but in the end I think we both know you'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, just as I do." He smiled, taking his gun and shooting the man in the chair before holding a bag out to him. "Go, help Penelope get cleaned up. But think on my words, Dream of the Endless."
Dream took the bag and watched him speak to the other individuals before they began their work. When he left, the cold breeze washing the smell of blood and decay off of him, he felt a pit form in his stomach. If the Frenchman was correct then he would have to break his promise to protect her. He would, he knew he would as did the Frenchman it seemed, but would he be able to bear the brunt of her anger should it come to that? Would he be able to live knowing he'd betrayed her already fragile trust?
As he entered Hob Gadling's home once more a smile spread on his lips and all thoughts faded at the sight of her curled into his friend's arms, no longer crying or shaking. Hob was telling stories, voice soft and low as he rubbed her arms to comfort her. Upon seeing him in the doorway he smiled. "I think she dozed off."
"It has been a rather eventful night."
"I got her leg stitched up," he said. Dreams' eyes turned to the cut now wrapped and healing.
"How did she handle it?" He questioned.
"Better than I thought. Only had to take a few breaks, when the shaking got too bad for me to work." Hob smoothed a hand down her hair. "She's strong."
Dream nodded. "Very."
Hob chuckled. "As much as I enjoy the friendly cuddles she reeks. Think you can wake her, get her cleaned up? I'll get the spare room set up."
He knelt down beside the two and put his hand on her face. "Penelope."
Her eyes shifted beneath the lids and she slowly blinked them open. Fear filled her for a moment at the unfamiliar space, but when she focused on his face it disappeared. "Dream."
"You fell asleep," he whispered. "Let's get you cleaned up so you can rest properly?"
She hummed, squeezing Hob's arm. "Thank you Hob, for everything."
"Don't mention it, beautiful. I'll talk until someone cuts my tongue out."
Dream helped her to her feet, catching her as she unsteadily began to fall. She melted beneath his touch and let him carry her into the bathroom. It would be easier to return to The Dreaming and attend to her, but Penelope would more than likely wish to remain in the Waking World until her and her friends could speak on a new plan. He would have to return, as Lucienne had said, his realm needed him now more than ever especially with the dreams and nightmares returning. Matthew would simply have to be watchful for him when the time came.
Dream filled Hobs shallow tub and helped Penelope undress, and get settled in the warm soapy water, her wrapped leg hanging out to stay dry. He carefully washed the blood from her arms and face, taking note of the way she avoided his eyes. "Are you angry with me?"
She shook her head. "No, of course not!"
"Look at me, my love." He whispered, tilting her head up. When her teary eyes met his head smiled. "I'm proud of you. Taking life is not an easy thing, especially not for one as good and pure as you, but given the circumstances I'm glad you did it."
She frowned a little. "You're not… Disgusted? Disappointed?"
Tilting his head slightly he chuckled. "How could anyone who watches a beautiful goddess take down her foes with such grace and precision be disappointed or disgusted?"
His words brought a tiny grin back to her face. "I'm not a goddess."
"Weaver, I know I know," he mimicked the words she'd once mocked him with. "I love you, every part, even the ones that may not be ones you find beautiful."
"Thank you," she whispered. "For all of it, Morpheus."
He turned to the bag and pulled out two small bottles to wash her hair with. After helping her get out he wrapped her into one of Hobs robes and looked in the bag again. It was small, but full of necessities. Money, passports, first aid tools, personal hygiene products and a loose fitting pair of clothes that did not look like they belonged to her. He held them up, the faint scent of the Frenchman's cigarette smoke lingering in the fabric. Jealous once again curled in him. "Clothes?"
She smiled. "They're Pierres from years ago. I wore them so much after fights he just kinda let me keep them. Is that… Is that okay?"
"I'm not fond of your French companion, but I trust you. That has not and will not change." He assured her, helping her pull the clothes over her body. "Though I have a large collection you're free to steal."
Penelope laughed. "Of course you do, you can just wave your hand and have all new clothes."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and grabbed a brush to brush through her hair. "I wanted to offer to take you home, to The Dreaming, but I have a feeling you wish to remain here."
"As good as going home sounds," she sighed. "I need to keep them safe. Pierre has the taste of blood now, he's angry and that makes him reckless. Johanna will take this personally and start cutting corners trying to dig things up faster. They need me to keep them relaxed, at least until we can all talk."
"I understand." He tapped her ring gently. "I know you do not want me involved, but should the need arise, call for me. Call for me and I will come."
"Even if I won't let you destroy everything and everyone when you get here?" She asked, though her tone told him she was only partially teasing.
"Even then. It matters not why you call, simply that you do. If when I find you it is peace you wish, I shall honor my oath. And if it is nightmares and darkness you ask of me, I shall deliver it."
Dream felt the shiver run through her as she smiled up at him. "You're magnificent, Dream of the Endless."
Pressing his head to hers he laughed. "You are far more so, Penelope the Weaver."
***
Hob led Dream and I to the guest room and told us to make ourselves at home before quickly excusing himself. Dream set me on the bed, quickly getting me settled before he turned. "I know you have to go back… But can you stay for a little?"
He smiled, already shedding his coat and boots. "I won't leave without saying goodbye again, I promise."
"Good," I mumbled as he slid beneath the covers and pulled me into his soft solid chest. I focused on his heart beating beneath me, focused on the steady pressure of his hand stroking down my back. The loud bumps and odd noises or Hobs home barely had an affect on me until the door opened and the floorboards creaked with movement, I jerked up.
Pierre caught my fist and smiled. "Apologies, was it me you wanted to hit?"
I sighed, settling back to Dreams side. "What are you doing?"
He shoved up beside me on the bed, his body curling around mine, pressing his nose to my hair he answered, "I came to rest, of course."
"In my room?" I asked, smoothing a hand over Dreams' now tense chest.
"This bar man only has two rooms."
"There's a couch."
"You would kick me to the couch?" He questioned softly. "Like a stray mutt?"
"That is what you are," I teased, moving a hand to hold his. His knuckles were swollen and poorly wrapped. "Who got the brunt of your anger this time?"
Pierre made a noise. "No one important. A traitor that needed to be taught a lesson."
"Is this traitor alive?"
"Sleep, Ma moitié." No.
"Pierre…"
"Sleep." He repeated more solidly. Dream had curled me even closer, glaring down at Pierre as he settled into bed beside us. He gave Dream a look. "Goodnight, lover."
"Shut up, asshole," I groaned, elbowing him and snuggling deeper into Dream's chest. "Goodnight, Dream."
"Goodnight, my love."
Pierre giggled. "You two are adorable. Tell me Ma moitié, how do my clothes feel against that soft skin of yours?"
I kicked him, nearly sending him off the edge of the bed. Dream smiled down at me and kissed me softly as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep, cocooned by the Dream Lord and my most trusted friend.
The next morning Dream was still beside me, just as he promised he would be, his arms holding me tightly to him. Pierre was also still beside me, speaking in French and taking up half the bed. As I came to I began to recognize his stories as our old sexual escapades. With a loud groan I shoved him clean off the bed. "Get out, you absolute dick!"
He smiled and winked at me. "Good morning my beautiful goddess!"
"Out. Now. Or I'll find a knife and cut you!"
Making his way to the door he wiggled his eyebrows. "Sounds like fun! You know there's nothing I'm not willing to try for you!"
Once the door shut behind him I turned to Dream. "I'm so sorry about him. He's an ass."
He gave me a reassuring smile and tugged me back into bed. "I'm aware, but it's alright. I think I've grown used to his antics."
"Have you?" I asked with a grin.
"He's a simple man," Dream noted. "His humor is juvenile to say the least, and he smokes almost as much as he speaks, but he cares for you."
We lay in silence for a moment, his fingers running through my hair and mine tracing shapes on his chest. "Do you have to go now?"
"Unfortunately, I do." I set my chin on his chest, looking up at him from beneath my lashes. He brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear and sighed. "You make leaving very difficult when you look at me like that, my love."
I giggled, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Sorry, I don't mean to make your kingly duties difficult."
"Will you be alright here?" He asked softly, the worry in his eyes reminding me of last night's disastrous outcome.
"Yeah, I'll be okay. I'm sure Hob and Pierre won't mind keeping me company today. You need to get your work done," I said, brushing a stray hair off his forehead.
"I'll return tonight to keep you company," Dream offered, pulling me up closer to him.
"I would like that very much," I agreed, pressing my lips to his.
Beneath me Dream practically vibrated. His whole body moved into the kiss, his hands gripping me tightly. He sighed against my lips. "I'll send Matthew to join you later."
"Stop worrying," I whispered, smoothing my thumb over his furrowed brows. "And give the bird a break. I'll be alright. Besides I've got two strong men to keep the bad guys at bay."
He nudged me, moving to rise from the bed. "I need to say goodbye to Hob before I go."
In the living room Pierre flipped through the channels on the TV, his dirty blond hair slicked back in his usual style and his casual attire sticking out against the finiary of Hobs home. Hob stood in the kitchen doorway and watched him curiously as he drank his tea. When he saw Dream and I he smiled, turning and holding out a tray of muffins. "Hungry?"
I greedily filled my hands with as many as I could carry before joining Pierre on the couch. He stole one of my muffins instantly before returning to his TV surfing with a grumble, "English television is shit."
As I ate I watched Hob and Dream speak quietly to one another before they shared some kind of agreement and Dream turned, coming to kneel in front of me. "I'll be back later. Call if you need me, please?"
"I will," I promised, pressing a long kiss to his lips. "Now go, get your work done."
Dream stood, his eyes sliding over Pierre with a look of something and a flare of jealousy passing quickly through our bond. Part of me wanted to say something to reassure him, but he gave me one last look, one full of trust and adoration, and I knew his jealousy was simply a gut reaction. He trusted me.
The front door closed behind him, but the black clad figure of him didn't walk through the streets. He was home and I envied him immensely. Closing my eyes and leaning against Pierres shoulder I sighed, imagining The Dreaming, my newfound home. I missed Lucienne and Merv and their constant antics. I missed Cain and Abel and Goldie and their bickering and showmanship. I missed the dreams and nightmares that had already begun to settle back into their homes. I missed walking through the palace with Morpheus' hand in mine or sitting on the bridge together watching the sunset. I missed the normalcy that The Dreaming had begun to offer me, something I'd known very few times in my life.
Soon. I promised myself. Soon all this will be over and we can go home together.
"So, what is this change in you?" Pierre asked curiously.
"Change?"
"You feel," he paused, searching for the right word. "Powerful, more so that you did before."
I nodded. "Yeah, it sounds nuts but I kind of discovered I've got some… String magic."
Hob sat up in his chair. "String magic?"
"I see these threads that connect people and, well, the universe." I explained poorly.
"So do we have these strings?" Hob asked.
"Yeah, everyone has one."
Pierre blocked Hob from my view. "Look at mine first!"
"Not bloody fair!"
"Relax, I can look at both of yours." I assured them, gently willing the world of threads up. It was softer here than in The Dreaming.
Pierres appeared first, bright and demanding. Orange with strong veins of red and pink and a thinner strip of green that, surprisingly, wrapped around his head. I told him his colors, my thoughts drifting to one of Luciennes books. Orange burns the brightest, life and love and adventure tangled into one thread. It is no surprise that those with orange dominated threads also burn away the fastest.
As long as I'd known him Pierre was blazing, burning through the world with everything he was, everything he had. As I watched him pridefully boast about his amazing range of colors I smiled, quietly hoping his fire would never dwindle.
"Mine next," Hob said, looking at me like a kid on Christmas.
Hobs was obvious. Bright yellow with orange and blue, but the blues had hues of green in it. His was firmly tethered to his heart as I looked at it with a smile. "Yours is yellow, with orange and blue."
"What does it mean?" He asked. "The colors?"
"I'm still working it all out," I admitted. "But yellow I think represents warmth and brightness. It shows you're optimistic and lively."
He nodded, standing to deposit his cup in the kitchen. "After all the years lively is a good work to hear."
Pierre jostled me and smirked. "So, what fun would you like to have today?"
"The kind where we sit inside and stay out of trouble?" I offered up, knowing full well he'd never agree to such a boring thing.
He scoffed. "Sit inside? On such a lovely day?"
Hob moved to stand beside the window and nodded. "It is rather nice out."
"Not you too!" I whined. "Listen, we should just relax inside and lay low. After last night, who knows what those assholes have planned."
"Come on," Pierre pleaded. "Let's go out, have a bit of fun! The old bag and his goons will be laying low, you should get out now before they start making noise."
"I wouldn't mind a day in the town," Hob added, scratching his head innocently. "It could be fun."
"You two are going to get me in trouble!" I hissed standing up. "Come on. We'll have to run by the apartment so I can change."
The two quietly cheered and jumped to their feet, gathering their things and following me out the door. A little shopping and maybe some food wouldn't hurt anyone.
***
Dream sat on his throne reading through the current census Lucienne had made for him. So many of his creations were back, yet there were still many that were not. Part of him worried that his absence had caused them to lose faith in him… Had caused such a deep damage that even his return could not sway them to come home. This worry had burrowed deep into his chest over the past few months. It festered and made him feel uneasy every time he left and to compensate he poured even more of himself into his work.
He'd made several rounds through the town, though he was never received with quite as much enthusiasm as Penelope was, another thing that made his chest ache, but not one he would focus on. Dream worked diligently to restore his realm to its former glory, and to gain back the love and trust of his subjects, but he feared he may never be the ruler he once was.
After the sun had set he spoke with Lucienne on what information he needed next, ran new designs past Merv and briefly spoke to Matthew about flying to the Waking World to check on Penelope while he finished up his remaining tasks. He walked the palace, examining everything to be certain there were no cracks or missing pieces, and in his walking he found himself on the pier, looking down into the clearing water.
During his capture the dreams of the humans grew dark and festered with nightmares, now he wished to see if they'd grown brighter. He knelt before the water, reaching out slowly and letting it gently tighten him into the depths. The nightmares greeted him with bowed heads and kept their distance, his power fully restored and thus his title and authority no longer something any could question. Moving through the water he viewed many dreams, bright and happy full of imagination and laughter. The sight eased the ache in him considerably.
Just as he prepared to return the sound of loud music and familiar laughter echoed from the depths. Penelope? He pressed forward, diving deep into the various pools containing her voice. The first was merely the image of her dancing in an empty room, the black silk dress hugging her form and her hair bouncing with the movements she made. In the far corner the dreamer sat, crudely stroking himself beneath his table.
Dream moved to the next, something similar but more people filled the space. This dreamer had imagined a very poor look alike of his lady bent before him at his table. He scoffed at the horrible rendition and moved on to the next. Whatever it was she'd gotten up to in his absence it certainly had inspired these pathetic, unimaginative fools. The next was just as crude and poorly realized as the last. A terrible look alike on her knees for the dreamer, resembling nothing of the beauty he knew she was in any position.
It was the last dream that made the jealousy and pent up possessiveness unfurl. It was no mere dream, but a memory of the events that had inspired such. Penelope, his lady, danced happily among the humans, the black silk dress even more beautiful and revealing than the other dreamers had depicted. She was happy, Hob spun her around joking and laughing with her, but that didn't bother him. Hob was a gentleman. It was the other one. That damned Frenchman that got his blood boiling. His hands were all over her, holding onto her hips and moving with her as though they were doing more than dancing. His lips whispered in her ear, and though he could tell it was his usual jokes that Penelope would smack him for it did little to ease the curling ball building in him.
Enough. With a snap of his fingers all dreams surrounding his lady ended, and with a wave of his night filled coat he was in the Waking World, in her room.
On her bed an opened box with a bright red ribbon lay open. The card reeked of him, his smoke, and had some crude message in French. He'd bought her the dress. Dream sat on the bed, holding the ribbon in his hands, and waited.
***
Dream was already sitting on the edge of my bed when I closed the door, twisting a shimmering red ribbon in his hands "God damn you! Don't sneak up on me!"
"Did you have a good evening?" The tone of his voice was low and rigid. His mind and emotions clouded, as if he was purposely withholding them from me.
"I guess?" I answered, slipping my shoes off. "Are you okay?"
He chuckled low and dark, sending a jolt of heat straight down my spine and to my core. "No. I don't suppose I am."
The air in the room thickened with a heavy lustful need as he stood from the bed and trapped me against the door. "Oh… What's… What's wrong?"
His eyes gleamed like silver moons as he looked down the length of my body, drinking in the dress Pierre had gifted me to wear out on our night of fun. "Who do you belong to?"
"Excuse me?" I whispered back, nearly choking from the suddenness of the question.
"Who do you belong to?" He repeated his cold breath fanning over my neck as he moved his lips to my ear.
I bit my lip and clenched my thighs together. It was obvious he wanted me to tell him I was his, so obvious that I really wanted to see what he'd say if I gave him a different answer. "I don't think I belong to anyone."
Dream laughed against my ear, dragging his fingers down my shoulder and sliding the thin strap off it. "Don't make me repeat myself again, Penelope."
Fire burned in my lungs as I set my head against the door to meet his eyes. "Or what?"
"Or I'll have to punish you."
"Well, first, I'd like to know what's got you in your big dark mood."
A smirk. "You."
I watched his lips. "Have I been bad or something?"
"Not bad," he answered carefully, running a hand down the front of my dress. "An inspiration is perhaps more accurate."
"Why would inspiration be a punishable offense?"
"Because when you inspire a pathetic group of mortals to dream of you in your little dress I have to see it." Oh. His dark gaze flicked back up to me. Oh shit. "I found it amusing at first, but then I saw one of their memories of the events that transpired and found it far less amusing. Your body, pressed up against your friends. His lips whispering in your ear. His hands on you."
I swallowed. "Dream…"
His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my head back so he could look straight down at me as he stepped closer, pressing me impossibly further into the door. "Choose your next words wisely, my love."
Burning need coiled in my gut as the raw unfiltered ache of his jealous rage hit me. "Nothing happened. It was just dancing. I would never-"
"You misunderstand. I know nothing happened. I know who you belong to, but it seems your friend needs a reminder and you need to be reminded." Oh god. His thumb ran down the center of my neck. "So, my love, one last time. Who do you belong to?"
"You," I whined as he shoved his knee between my thighs, a pulse of heat rushing through me.
"Again."
"You," I replied louder, his hand gripping my hip and grinding me down against his thigh.
The hand now on my neck applied a little pressure. "Again."
I moaned softly, tears pricking the edges of my eyes as the pleasure began to build at a torturously slow pace. "You, Morpheus. I belong to you."
His eyes took in the sight of me, pinned against the door, hips moving against his thigh, his hand gripping me to control the pace. With a hum he shook his head, lips brushing against mine. "I'm not satisfied."
Pulling away from me completely he ignored my whimpering, took off his coat and set the ribbon on my dresser before sitting in my chair. I stood perfectly still, waiting for his coming instructions. He leaned back and motioned me forward with two fingers. I approached him slowly, standing in between his wide spread legs. "Kneel."
My breath trembled as I followed the command, kneeling between his thighs, hands squeezing them softly. He caught my chin between his finger and thumb, pulling on my bottom lip slightly as he said, "I think it's time we put this gorgeous mouth to better use, don't you?"
I nodded eagerly, listening to the sound of him freeing himself from the confines of his pants. "No more rebellion?"
The words went straight to my cunt as I gave him a wicked smirk. "Perhaps later."
With a nod, he released my face. "We shall see."
I didn't wait for instructions as I took him in my hand, pumping a few times before I dragged my tongue up the length of his hard cock and swirled it around the leaking tip. Our eyes stayed locked, his expression remained cold and unchanging. I looked away only to take him into my mouth, pressing my tongue flat against him, occasionally running the tip along the underside of his cock. His hands stayed relaxed on the arms of the chair as he kept up the unaffected act. We'll see about that.
Hollowing out my cheeks I took him deep into my throat, not stopping until I hit the base of his pants. I held myself there, swallowing around him and humming at the sound of his fingers digging into cushions, at last earning a moan from the king of dreams. "Good girl."
I continued my movements, one hand digging into his thigh while I used the other to feel up his tightened abdomen. Through my lashes I looked up at him, the sight alone would have been enough for me. His head was thrown back, the muscles and veins in his neck visible in the pale moonlight. God Morpheus, I moaned in my head, watching his Adam's apple bob. I'd never get tired of looking at him like this.
When his hand finally fisted in my hair and held me still I loosened my jaw as much as I could as he began steadily fucking up into my mouth. Saliva pooled everywhere as I choked on him, but I didn't care, couldn't care. "That's it," he breathed. Morpheus, I thought wantonly. "Just take it." Morpheus. "You're doing so good for me." Morpheus. His fist tightened in my hair, holding me down against his pulsing cock as he came down my throat. "Fuck."
He released his grip on my hair and I pulled myself off him, licking up anything left over as he looked down at me and caught his breath. "Are you satisfied now, Lord Morpheus?"
He bent over and held his lips inches from my own before whispering, "Not in the slightest."
Before I could speak again he stood, stepping over me and moving across the room. He grabbed the floor length mirror in the far corner and set it up facing the chair with a quiet him as he retook his seat. Through the mirror I watched as his long lithe fingers stroked down his cock, still glistening with my saliva. His eyes, mere pools of silver in the darkness, met mine and he stilled. "Come."
I scoffed, that rebellious spark filling the air. "I'm not a pet, Dream."
"You would look fetching in a collar though," he mused, eyes trailing over me. "Come sit in my lap."
"If I don't?" I questioned, though I'd already stood up to comply with his command.
"Then I'll have to bend you over my knee." A shiver ran through me as I moved closer to him. "Panties off."
I smiled, slowly lifting my dress up and sliding the lacy black panties off of me. "Anything else you want off, my Lord?"
"No." I lifted a leg, moving to straddle him but he stopped me. "Face the mirror."
As I compiled my reflection greeted me, the black silk hugged every curve of my body and the high slit showed off a good amount of my thigh. Dreams hands ran down my hips, gathering my dress a little before guiding me back to sit. One hand held my hip while the other lined his cock up with my already soaking hole. He slid me down on top of him slowly, lifting the dress so the sight of him disappearing inside me was clear in the mirror as he gazed hungrily over my shoulder.
I was already gasping and panting, my hand covering my mouth muffling the loud moan tore through my throat when he'd finally pulled me completely against him, moving both my legs to rest openly over his thighs. Behind me Dream pulled my hands together behind my back with a growl. He pulled the red ribbon off the nightstand and wrapped it tightly around my wrists. Before securing the ties he kissed my shoulder, the gentle tenderness returning for only a moment to ask, "Is this alright?"
Through the mirror our eyes met and I smiled. "I trust you."
The ribbon pulled taut against my skin and he kissed my spine. "And that is something I shall never betray, my love."
"I know," I whispered watching as the glowing silver of his eyes drifted down to where we were joined, the dark possessiveness retaking him as he pulled on the ribbon, testingly. "Now what?"
"Now, you sit still."
My eyes went wide. "Wait, sit still?"
Dream smiled. "Yes, I don't want you to move an inch."
"Well thats, hardly fu- fuck!" I hissed as his fingers lightly grazed my clit. "Oh."
"Oh," he mocked quietly. "Oh indeed."
"This isn't fair," I whined as his fingers began their slow movements again. I could feel myself beginning to squeeze around his cock, but I couldn't move. His free hand had my hip in an iron grip, one I just knew would leave bruises.
He chuckled, biting my shoulder and forcing another moan from me. "Punishment is hardly ever fair. And I am a strict king."
Dream continued his slow pavement for ten minutes then slowly began speeding up. But as was the way of things with Dream he refused to let me come. He'd bring me to the edge, watching me intently through the mirror and then just as the sweet release was within reach he'd stop all movement. After a half hour of this every inch of me was shaking, my legs trembled, squeezing his thighs desperately. "Morpheus," I whined for the hundredth time, my voice hoarse and desperate, chest heaving as I leaned my head back into his shoulder. "Please."
He chuckled, moving his hand from my hip to wrap loosely around my neck and pressing an open mouthed kiss behind my ear. "What is it you want, my love?"
His fingers stilled once again and I groaned. "You know exactly what I want!"
"Perhaps, but I still want to hear you say it."
"Oh? You want me… Ah, god damn you," I moaned, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as his fingers built back up their movements. "You want me to beg?"
Morpheus hummed, the vibration of his chest sending chills up my body. "I'm open to begging."
For a moment I settled on not giving him the satisfaction, but that moment was short. My chest heaved as the pleasure of his fingers working my clit and his cock stuffed inside my aching cunt brought the coil in my gut tight once again before he stopped. With a broken huff I slumped forward, my head looking down at my trembling thighs. "Please, Morpheus. Please let me come."
His hand moved to my hair, fisting in it and pulling my head back up. "Look at me when you beg, my lady."
Our eyes locked and his glistened with absolutely unhinged lust. "Please," I gasped, my fingers twisting into his shirt from behind. "Please let me come. I'll do anything."
With a smile his eyes drifted down to where we were joined together, watching his fingers and smiling at the mess I'd made in his lap. "You have been quite good."
"I have," I agreed desperately.
"Will you continue to behave?" The dark timber of his voice nearly brought me to the climax I so desperately wanted.
"Yes," I gasped. "I'll behave."
"Very well, I'll let you come…" His lips pressed to the shell of my ear. "Next time."
Everything stopped and a disappointed sob tore from my mouth. "Morpheus!"
He lifted me off of him and set me on the bed, my face pressing into the plush blanket as I whined. The sound of the mirror moving back into place and him leisurely undressing off to the side, just out of my sight, was torturous. I pulled on the ribbon, but just like all the times before it held firm.
His weight dipped on the mattress and without any warning he pushed himself into me, inch by inch. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as my aching cunt burned at the slow pace. God he was really going to drag this out, wasn't he? I pushed my hips back against him as his hand wound around the ribbon and pulled, lifting me off the bed and into his bare chest. One arm came around me, pulling my lip from my teeth while the other pulled my dress up and gripped my hip. "None of that. I want every noise."
"But…" I tried, my mind drifting to the poor men in the living room.
He pulled the ribbon harder. "Let them hear you. Perhaps this will finally be enough for your friend to realize exactly who you belong to."
"Morpheus," I whined as all the denied pleasure began to build inside me. The coil tightened and tightened until it was unbearable.
"Come," he ordered and my body immediately followed the command.
White filled my vision as a desperate and wanton moan filled the room along with his name. He pulled out, unwinding the ribbon from my hands to move me onto my back.
My nails dug into his arms as he leaned over me, teeth closing around my nipple through my dress and tugging lightly. I couldn't have contained the cry of pleasure that filled the room even if I wanted to. His cock slid back into me with no resistance and he pulled my legs over his shoulders, nearly bending me in half as he pounded into me.
Orgasm after orgasm, position after position, each more intense than the last until I was a moaning, sweaty, crying mess beneath him. His name was all I knew.
"Morpheus," I begged. For more or for less I didn't know, but he didn't stop.
"Just one more," he whispered, kissing the tears from my cheeks. "One more my beautiful Weaver."
"Come with me," I whined, fingers pulling at his black hair. "Please."
His hot breath fanned across my face as he kissed and sucked at my flesh as his hips began to falter in the harsh pace he'd set. Morpheus pressed his lips to mine just as my orgasm washed over me and his hips stilled in turn as he filled me with his hot come. We swallowed one another's moans for a moment before he set his forehead to mine. "Are you alright?"
I laughed weakly. "Absolutely!"
He kissed me softly, rolling off me and looking me up and down carefully. "I wasn't too rough was I?"
"Morpheus," I said gently, guiding his face back up to mine. "It was amazing. All of it."
With a sigh he pressed his head to my chest, running his fingers on the silk. "Forgive me. I should not have sprung this on you."
I scratched his head softly, running his smooth hair through my fingers. "I enjoyed it. It's quite a sight to see you let go of that ironclad grip you have on your urges."
He chuckled. "I like the dress."
"I figured you did since you didn't try to rip it off of me."
"I was tempted," he admitted, resting his chin on my chest to look up at me. "But decided against it."
I stroked his cheek. "We'll, thank you might Dream Lord for sparing my new dress."
He moved away from me, disappearing into my bathroom. Before I could ask I heard the water turn on and he returned, gently removing the dress from my body, kissing every bruise left by his hands. Then he lifted me into his arms and settled the two of us into my tub where he massaged my arms and shoulders and whispered praise in my ears and kissed me gently.
I closed my eyes, sinking into him. "I love you."
Dream nuzzled his face into my hair. "I love you too. I missed you today."
"As did I," I hummed. "Hob and Pierre are absolutely unhinged together as it turns out."
He laughed. "Tell me about your day."
***
Hob Gadling and Pierre sat across from one another in Penelope and Johanna's living room, each quietly sipping the tea Hob had made. At first the moans and desperate cries of pleasure had been quieter, easier to tall over, but now they filled the apartment.
Pierre smiled. "I still think she was louder for me."
Hob sighed. "There's no way. Sorry mate, but there's just no way she was louder than this for you."
"You think I am a poor lover?"
"I didn't say that." He replied. "But she's in there with basically a god right now. And there's just no way you're better than a god."
He scoffed. "I disagree."
"Morpheus!"
The two grew silent again. "Should we leave?"
Pierre shrugged. "Are you hungry bar man?"
"I could eat," Hob replied, grabbing his coat and following the Frenchman out the door. "It's Hob, by the way, not bar man."
"Hob. It's an odd name, no?"
***
I woke the next morning sore, but for the first time in a while it was in a way that made me smile. I could feel Morpheus curled into my back, his face buried in my hair as he lay beside me. I stretched my heavy limbs, the slight movement bringing Dream fully awake in an instant. His arms tightened around me and he breathed in deeply. "Good morning."
"Good morning," I replied, twisting to kiss him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Sore," I said honestly. "But in the best way."
He chuckled, smoothing his hands over my body, lightly massaging me. "What are your plans for the day?"
I shrugged. "Don't know, but don't you need to get back to The Dreaming?"
"I was able to complete my tasks yesterday before getting… Distracted," he said. "So, you have me for the day."
I gasped and turned in his arms, rolling over on top of him. "The great King of Dreams is all mine? Oh think of the evil I can accomplish!"
Dream ran his fingers through my hair. "Evil isn't exactly your style."
"What is then?"
"Rescuing stray animals? Feeding birds?" He offered up. "Inspiring the fantasies of mortal men?"
I pinched his arm. "I personally had nothing to do with the last one!"
His fingers running up my spine sent goosebumps along my flesh. "Perhaps not, but you are quite an inspiration, not just to mortals."
"Do I inspire you, Dream of the Endless?" I giggled, nudging his nose with mine.
"More than anything," he offered up freely, eyes bright and swimming with love. The adoration he felt for me was almost enough to make my heart stop. I pressed my lips to his, savoring the slow unhurried way they moved together.
A knock at the door made me freeze. Oh fuck. My head fell into his shoulder as I remembered that Hob and Pierre had been in the apartment for last nights… Loud performance. Dreams pride was unbearable as he chuckled. "Yes?"
Hob cleared his throat on the other side of the door. "The French guy and I got breakfast ready, if you two are hungry."
"By the sounds of last night I know she's hungry," Pierre teased loudly.
"God!" I groaned. "This is your fault."
Dream sat up, bringing me with him. "I accept full responsibility."
"Smug bastard."
I uncurled from him and got dressed, the marks far too high up my neck to even try and hide. Dream had returned to his normal attire and sat on the bed watching me as I fixed my hair. He came up behind me, moving my hands to tie the red ribbon into my locks. "There, perfect."
I scoffed at him. "The nerve of you!"
"Come, you need to eat before our day of fun can begin."
With his hand in mine we left the safety of my bedroom and sitting on the couch the two smirking men drank their drinks quietly. Pierre had a hundred jokes ready, I just knew it, while Hob looked more at Dream than he did me. I nodded toward the chair. "Take a seat, I'll grab my food."
Pierre was up in an instant, following me to the kitchen with a grin. I groaned and moved fast, trying to focus on buttering my biscuit and dishing up my eggs while he leaned against the doorframe. "Last night was quite the show."
"Pierre…" I warned. "I'll stab you."
He shrugged, tilting my head up to examine the marks in my neck. "He's far more rough than I'd imagined!"
I slapped his hands away. "Knock it off!"
"Tell me then, who's better? Him or me?"
I pulled my lips together tightly. "Sweetie…"
He gasped, an offended hand flying to his chest. "Him? No!"
"Sorry Frenchie, with him there's just…" I smiled. "There's real feeling. It's not about letting off steam or trying not to focus on something, it's just… Natural."
Pierre smiled, his real one, the one I knew was genuine. "I'm happy for you, Ma moitié. You deserve nothing but the best in this life."
I held his hand. "You deserve that too."
"Not really." He shrugged, kissing my hand quickly. "All the good I am came from you. It's something I'll never be able to repay, and something I will spend every minute of my life trying to."
"You already have," I whispered.
He smiled, pulling me in close to kiss my head. "Not even close, Ma moitié."
"Stubborn ass."
"Always."
The front door opened and shut quickly, bags dropped to the floor and the person that had come in moved quickly to the kitchen doorway. Johanna sighed, relieved and instantly pulled me into her arms. "God I was worried about you!"
I hugged her tighter. "So was I. Sorry about the other night, I wasn't…"
"Shut up," she insisted. "What matters is you're back to normal, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Grab your food, we gotta rework our plan before any of us can go."
Just like Johanna, I thought while following her and Pierre out into the living room. Dream and Hob now sat together, Hob finishing up some hushed words before he gave Dream a pat on the shoulder. I sat on the floor between Dreams' knees. "Everything okay?"
"Yes," he replied silently. "It would seem you've made quite the impression on Hob Gadling."
"Oh?" I twisted a little, looking up at him as I took a bite of my food
"He was just telling me about how good you are, about how I needed to take whatever this is seriously and not hurt you."
I choked on my food a little and smiled. "I mean I would hope you're taking this seriously, Dream. You're in my head after all."
His hands rubbed my shoulders. "I can say the same of you, my love."
Johanna pulled out the papers she'd gathered on her trip and we sat for a while, reviewing the information. Out of curiosity I pulled the threads up, examining her odd thread with curious eyes. Her thread was gray with black and orange veins, but what made it odd was the yellow that was frayed and torn from the main thread, half even and half unwoven. The gray thread wrapped tightly around her throat while the broken yellow led to her heart.
If she'd been a stranger I would have had no clue what I was looking at, but I knew Johanna. I knew that deep down she was a lot like Hob, bright and lively and warm. The broken yellow thread was hers once, as was its placement in her heart. But, the years of this job, this life, had worn her down… Astra's loss had caused the thread to snap and for her whole life to be rewoven and changed. The gray wasn't like Destinys. His felt balanced and clear, while her felt like the beginnings of a storm, unsteady and full of things left unresolved.
Looking at it made me sad, but the simple fact that the yellow remained at all gave me hope that she'd one day get to reunite with that side of her. Pierre suddenly spoke, "So the bastard is likely operating here in London."
"Probably never left," I added, letting the world refill my vision.
"We need to dig up as much as we can," Johanna said, her eyes darting wildly between the papers.
I got her attention. "We need to relax."
Pierre scoffed. "After the other night-"
"The other night changes nothing." I insisted. "He knows I'm here, so I'll disappear for a bit, send them looking elsewhere while you two continue with the original plan."
"Ahh the old goose chase!" Pierre smiled. "I like it."
Johanna crossed her arms. "Where will you go? They've got eyes everywhere."
I looked up at Dream and smiled. "Dream of the Endless, would you allow me to hide away in your great realm?"
He smiled just a little. "Of course, my realm is always open to you."
"Problem solved."
Johanna nodded. "Alright, it's good enough for me."
I clasped my hands together. "Great! I'll go pack!"
Dream followed me shortly after and stood in the door, watching me pack my things. "They've all gone."
"Even Hob?"
"Yes, he had to go make sure the inn was ready to open."
"I should probably apologize for that, huh?"
"I'm sure he doesn't mind," Dream assured me.
I looked him up and down and asked, "Are you okay?"
He sighed, moving closer. "There is something I wish to try."
"What is it?"
Lifting my silver bound wrist he kissed it gently. "I wish to show you some of my past."
I looked at him gently. "You don't have to. If this is about what Hob said…"
"It is," he said. "But more than that, it's about what everyone's said since our reunion. Desire would use what I haven't shared to try and manipulate you. Hob fears my secrecy will cause you pain. Lucienne advises openness and honesty. Even Destiny has said I would need to open myself to you."
"I understand that, and they aren't wrong, but…" I pulled him closer. "You still get to choose when that is. I don't want you to feel pressured into sharing things you're not comfortable with."
Dream stroked my cheek. "I have seen the worst of your memories, without your permission, I believe this much is owed."
"If you're sure," I said once again. "What do you need me to do?"
He placed his hand in mine. "Put my hand to this silver thread. The one you used to see Destiny's hidden memories."
"It's cold," I warned as I pulled up the threads, moving his hand to it and directing him to hold it. The blizzard overtook us both and this time when the frozen lake appeared, Dream was beside me, holding onto the thread.
He looked around for a moment, moving along the rigid path forward, until the first statue came into view. "Nada," he said softly.
"Who was she?" I asked, looking up at the beautiful ice sculpture of the woman.
"My first love…" he sighed. "And someone that hurt me deeply, that I in turn hurt."
I lifted his hand, pressing it into the cold of the statue. All around us the memories of them played out in hazy visions. Beside me Dream was stiff. I could feel the love they shared, feel how badly he wanted her to remain by his side. Then the pain came, hurt and anger and confusion. The vision faded and the feelings with it. "What happened between you two?"
"It is ancient law that mortals and Endless cannot be together or disaster will follow. Nadas people were destroyed because of our love, and the pain this caused her…" He paused. "She took her own life, and so in death I offered her eternity at my side as my queen." I squeezed his arm tighter, the knowledge that another could have taken my place was something I wasn't entirely ready for, or fond of. "She refused and in my young and blind rage I condemned her to Hell, where she remains even now."
"You cast her to Hell?"
He sighed. "Yes. I'll admit, it was not something I saw fault in before, but then I found you." He turned to me. "Nada never would have been my queen, nor my equal. Even if she had accepted, you would have merely existed and been more to me and The Dreaming than she."
I kissed his cold fingers. "Can you free her?"
"Much like your mother, my forgiveness is what is required. When we were in Hell I was not ready to let go of my anger, bit now…" He smiled down at me. "Now I believe I may be."
We walked forward again, the next statue standing tall above us, one I recognized instantly. "Olethros."
Dream nodded, setting his hand against the ice. "My brother."
The vision of their family, all hazy figures and faces formed. Olethros was the only clear one among them. He announced his departure, met with anger and confusion and questions. "When was this?"
"1695." Dream replied. "Though he did not vanish entirely until shortly after saving you, this was when Destruction left our family and his realm along with his duties. He remained in the Waking World for a while, but never in one place for long enough that our family could find him."
"Why is he here?"
"I said much that day that I wish I could take back. His role was never easy, none are. Had I been more understanding… More open to aid him then perhaps…"
"He might have stayed?" I finished. "I don't know. I only knew him as Olethros, and we certainly didn't have eons together. But, he was his own man. No one could have stopped him if it's what he'd chosen, not even you, Dream."
The next statue was of a woman and child, both appearing in light robes. Wordlessly he pressed his hand to the ice. All around us laughter and love and joy filled the air. Family. They'd been a family. As I watched the past him embrace his wife and their child I couldn't help but feel the sting of it. He loved them both so much. "Calliope, my ex wife and Orpheus… my son."
"What happened?"
"My son died," he answered solemnly, tears in his eyes. "Calliope blamed me. Her final words to me were a promise to never speak to me again."
The vision faded with the echoes of the pain. "I'm sorry."
Dream closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I was not the best husband to her, nor the best father. But, I loved it… Having a family of my own."
I wiped his tears. "I know I can't replace that… Can't give you the exact same as they did, but I can be your family."
"You are my family," he corrected. "You, The Dreaming, all of it is our family."
I looked up at him as he looked down the path. "You've lived a long life. Let this be enough for now?"
"How do we return?"
"Break the thread." I instructed, forgetting to warn him of the coming plunge into the lake.
We were huddled close together when the warm world greeted us, Dreams arms held me tightly to him, shielding me from any unknown danger. Shivering I kissed his chest. "Thank you."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm just a little cold."
His coat wrapped around me in an instant. "When you're warm, we can begin our day."
"Do you have things planned?"
"No," he admitted. "I want you to do whatever it is you want to."
I smiled up at him. "I'm proud of you… Of the ways you've changed."
He shook his head gently. "I've not changed. I am as I've always been, just… More inspired."
"As you say, Mr. Endless, Sir." I teased. "Now, I was promised a day out so, let's go."
Being in the Waking World with Dream was always awkward. He never knew exactly where to look or what was weird and what was normal, but to his credit he tried his best. Even as I forced him to try every food and look at every street vendor he never complained or made any faces. Honestly he was fascinated, studying everything with this look of wonder. It was adorable.
As the sun was beginning to set we sat side by side on a park bench. I watched a group of kids play while Dream picked at the sweet treat I'd shoved in his hand. I loved kids, their bright laughter and chubby cheeks. After seeing his memories of being a father a newfound want had filled my chest. Seeing him have all that with someone else… It hurt, I envied it. But, maybe we could have that one day too?
"Dream," I started softly. "Do you… Would… Would you ever want to have a child again?"
He turned to me, looking up at the children playing and he smiled a little. "If you'd have asked me not long ago I would have said no. But, that was,when I thought you were dead."
"So you would?"
"Would you?" He asked cautiously. "I never thought to ask. I honestly didn't think it would be possible after seeing all the…"
Oh. He thought… I shook my head, twisting my fingers together. "Oh, no. They never… I… I guess they wanted to leave that bit untouched… In case…" The words died in my throat, but Dream understood.
He linked our hands. "I enjoyed being a father, even if I wasn't the best at it the first time. I would be thrilled to have a second chance with you."
"I've never been a mom," I said with a laugh. "But, I'd be happy to give it a try with you one day."
Just as he pressed his lips to mine thunder echoed in the sky and rain began to fall. I smiled, watching everyone flee the park as the sunlight grew dim. Dream looked a little disgruntled at the change. "We should depart."
I stood quickly. "And miss the rain?"
He smiled. "I forgot I was with you for a moment. I should make you your own rain cloud at this point."
"Can you?!"
Dream shook his head, chuckling softly. "What shall we do in this downpour my lady?"
Holding a hand out to him I smiled wide. "Do Dream Lords dance?"
"No, they don't."
"Would you, if I said please?"
With a sigh he stood, taking my hand in his. "I can deny you nothing."
I pulled him in close and the two of us danced in the rain, slow and soft. After a while it felt like we'd become part of the storm itself and I cherished the feeling. "Thank you, Dream Lord, for indulging me."
"Perhaps you will now indulge me in an adventure?"
With a grin I nodded. "I love adventures!"
He pulled the sand pouch from his coat and gave me a look. "Don't say it."
I bit my lip, resisting the urge to tease him anyway. Instead I let him blow the sand and take us wherever it was he had in mind. As it cleared the old tavern came into view. I looked back at him with curious eyes. "Are we taking a walk down memory lane?"
"Something like that," he replied, leading me inside. "The last time we were here, do you remember it?"
Nodding, I looked around a bit. "Of course."
"Do you remember some… Thoughts you had?"
Ohhh… I thought, turning to him. "Yes."
Dream smiled at that. "Would you care to explore them some more?"
"Absolutely."
"Good," he said lowly as he waved his hand. "I've come up with some ideas myself."
The tavern filled with people, lighting up and taking on the qualities it held in the past as it bent to Dreams whim. Soft fabric rusted against my skin and when I looked down I was wearing a gown in place of my regular clothes. It was elegant and revealing, two strips of fabric around my neck connected it to the long puffy sleeves that cuffed at my wrists. The deep v of the front accentuated my breasts beautifully and the knee high slits in the side made movement easy. It was nearly see through with a multitude of golden stars of various sizes and placements.
"You've certainly given me a fine dress, Dream Lord!" I said, twirling a little, noting the way his dark eyes looked down my body. "Though I'm not sure how period accurate it is."
"Yes, it's a shame there will be little left of it when I'm finished with you."
Heat rolled through me as I looked back at him, adorned in his 1389 look with his shoulder length hair and billowing sleeves. "Is that a promise?"
His brow arched. "Does it need to be? Is that what you wish, my lady? For me to swear to you that I'll not stop until every inch of you is bare before me?"
I hummed, swallowing thickly. "It's a start."
"A start," he chuckled, backing me up against the table.
"Well yes, I should hope with such a magnificent set you had more than one idea in mind." I smiled up at him. "Or was this supposed to be a quick affair?"
Dream shook his head, a smile spread on his lips. "Quick is not something I would use to describe what I've planned."
My eyebrow quirked. "What is it you have planned?"
"For starters," he said, hands settling on my thighs. "A kiss."
"Just a kiss?" I inquired. "Rather tame for you, my lord."
He merely smiled and lowered his lips to mine, starting with a slow kiss, one that had me clinging to his arms for support as he stole the very breath from my lungs. When he pulled back to let me regain my lost breath he moved his lips to my jaw, trailing kisses lower and lower until he was biting and sucking the hollow of my throat.
My hands ran through his hair, pulling gently at the roots as I gasped and wiggled beneath him. "Dream," I said in a heated moan. "Please don't make me beg again."
With a dark chuckle he returned his lips to mine, kissing softly before pulling back to cradle my head in his hands. "I won't make you beg, my love. Not yet."
"God, your ego is astronomical," I murmured, pulling his lips back to mine.
This kiss was deep, our teeth clashed together as our tongues twined and his hands pulled at the front of my dress. The ripping sound was music to my ears and sent a wave of anticipation through me. When I pulled away his hair was shorter beneath my fingers, the flowy sleeved gone and replaced with his simple 1489 appearance.
"Hi," I breathed out.
"Hello," he replied, returning his hands to tearing the front of my dress open. The instant the chilled air hit my breasts I gasped and instinctually moved my hands to cover them. Dream caught them, pinning them to the table with a smirk. "I think not, love."
His mouth latched onto my nipple, his tongue swirling over it and teeth dragging down and tugging on it until it was peaked. He turned his attention to the other, paying no mind to the way my chest heaved against him or how my legs had spread wide and curled around his hips, desperately trying to pull him closer. "God, Dream just move forward!"
"Hmm," he thought, nipping and sucking hickeys into my chest. "Forward? Like this?"
His pelvis met mine, the firm outline of his erection rolling against my already aching core. A broken moan left my lips as my head fell back. "Yes," I gasped. "Just like that."
Dream ground himself against me one last time before he disappeared, my body arching out trying to chase his cold hands. I huffed and glared at him as he took a seat at the table across from us. His long hair cascading down his shoulders and the fine black clothes of his 1689 attire sitting comfortably against his pale skin. "You're an ass."
With a leisurely pace he pulled his cock free of his pants and stroked a hand up and down it. "Perhaps I'll just make you watch then."
"Is there a particular reason you've skipped a year?" I asked, eyes watching his hand stroke himself.
"Yes." He was too smug about this. "That year was your favorite."
"So you intend to make me work for it?"
"Work? No." He sucked in a deep breath, the movement of his hand beginning to get to him. "I intend to draw this out."
I stood, running my hands up his arms and stroking his face. "You think it'd end so quickly?"
"I know it would," his eyes flashed to mine. "You'd want your fill of me and I'd not deny you."
With a thoughtful hum I settled in his lap, leaving enough space for his hand to move between us. I placed my hand over his and kissed his jaw. "I could help, if that's the Dream Lord's wish?"
A low groan echoed around us as his hand fell away, leaving mine to pleasure him. "Yes, please."
My free hand wrapped into his long hair and pulled his head up to meet mine. With a wide, smug grin I whispered, "Told you I was gonna pull your dumb long hair."
"It's a good thing you're distracting me or I might take offense to that, my lady."
I kissed him, shushing him softly. "Just enjoy the moment, Morpheus."
Every sound he made I committed to memory, every breathless moan and soft words. Moments like these were rare, and so I loved the chance to savor every second. The usually stoic, hardened plane of his face was now relaxed, light and beautiful with thinly restrained ecstasy. I moved my lips closer to his, "You look good like this. Maybe I should do this all the time, help you get rid of those tense lines on your face."
He moaned, hands tearing the slits of my dress until they exposed my thighs completely now. "Surely your hand would tire if we did this all the time?"
"I have another," I offered. "I also have quite the mouth," he moaned, hips lifting and pushing into my hand. "Or we can always do things the easy way and you can just fuck me."
"An eternity of your touch, that does sound tempting." His eyes were blown wide as he looked up at me. Lust, need and an undeniable love hummed between us. "Though I don't know how happy you'd be stuck with me every moment of forever."
I smiled softly. "I'm yours, Morpheus. Being stuck with you every moment of forever is all I want."
As I quickened my pace, determined to bring him the pleasure he was chasing, he stopped me with a hand on my wrist and a labored groan. "If you continue that I'll not be able to last."
"Don't you want to come?" I asked.
"I do," his dark gaze flicked up to my face. "I want to come inside you."
A shiver rolled down my spine and I pressed my chest up to his, the cold buttons stinging my skin. "Oh? Do you enjoy that?"
"Immensely," he groaned, pulling my face down to his mouth. He was unforgiving, the way his mouth demanded everything from me while also giving me more. His hands squeezed my thighs tightly, pulling me fully into his lap, smirking at the soft moan that rose from my throat as our hips aligned just right.
When I pulled away to catch my breath the scenery had changed. We were no longer in the crowded part of the tavern, but in the back room in front of the fireplace. Dream was dressed head to toe in the soft black fabric of the 1789 self he'd shown me. His collar high, blocking his throat, the ruby glistening in the light. His hair was puffy, pulled back into a small ponytail by a fine black bow. He smiled at me, taking note of my repressed laugh. "Problem?"
"This look is just a lot," I said, doing my best not to laugh.
He hummed, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Then perhaps I simply need to make you see the appeal of it."
His hands settled on my hips, lifting me for a quick moment before setting me down over his thigh. My fingers curled in the fine fabric of his sleeves as he urged me to move. "Riding your thigh is supposed to do this?"
"No," he answered, lifting my chin with his finger. "But you'll do it anyway."
"Is that an order?" I purred.
"If it needs to be."
"It does."
Dream sat up straighter, moving me harshly against his thigh. He grabbed my throat in a light grip and smiled. "Ride my thigh, Penelope."
I sighed, grabbing hold of his jacket lapels and nodded. "Yes, my lord."
He relaxed as I moved against him, dragging my wet, aching pussy against the softness of his pants. I couldn't help but be grateful that this was all an illusion, partly because of the mess I was no doubt making of Dream's fine clothes, but also because of the noises I was making. Each drag forward and back rubbed my swollen clit perfectly against the solid muscle. Each movement brought me closer and closer to losing myself to the pleasure building inside me. But, as Dream was keen on reminding me, I wasn't the one in charge.
His hand on my throat squeezed a little. "Slow down."
"What?" I whined.
"Slow. Down." He repeated, authority and power filling the room.
With a gasp I followed his order, disappointment at the now ebbing release that had been building up. As I looked down at him, one arm draped lazily over the arm of his chair, his body sitting perfectly straight and his eyes watching the wetness spread on his pants, I was beginning to like this look. He looked the part of king, even more so he looked intimidating, bossy even. "I think I'm beginning to see the appeal of this look."
His eyes dragged up my form, pausing to watch my breasts bounce with my movements before meeting mine. "Oh?"
"It captures your kingly intimidation."
A smile spread on his lips. "If you can make yourself come in the next fifteen seconds I'll skip straight to the look you really want."
I moaned desperately at the thought, throwing my head back and moving my hips furiously to try and achieve the new goal. Dream kept me balanced as he calmly counted. "Five."
God damn it! I cursed, his order to slow down had waned my progress too much. "Ten. Best hurry, love, times almost up."
"I'm trying," I whined, the coil in my gut tightening and tightening, but not fast enough.
"Fifteen." He clicked his tongue. "Why don't I help you?"
I looked down at him, now clad in his 1889 attire, the form fitting suit, the slicked back short hair, the ruby ascot and his top hat. He dragged his tongue over his fingers and reached between us, pressing them to my abused clit. I gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support as I ground against him. "This is a good look too," I managed to say between heavy breaths.
"You like it?" He inquired. "Last I showed it to you it seemed you were more interested in Hob Gadling."
"You… God! You were being a tease," I sighed.
He lifted the hat from his head and placed it on mine. "Hold this for me."
Without warning he lifted my hips slightly, his fingers working my clit sliding into me. His head dipped down to my breasts, tongue and teeth sucking and pulling at the sensitive buds until all I could do was hold onto him. "Morpheus," I whined. "No more teasing, please!"
Pressing a kiss to my heart he nodded. "No more teasing, come for me and I'll reward you."
My head fell back, one of my hands just barely managing to catch his hat. "God, please!"
He moved his fingers expertly against me as I ground hips down onto them, the release I'd been steadily building towards right in sight. The coil tightened and tightened when he spoke again, "You're such a good girl, riding my fingers."
I came with a loud moan, his simple words of praise filling every inch of my trembling body with the exact thing it needed for the coil to snap. His fingers gently worked me through the orgasm while his lips kissed every inch of me. "Your voice should be illegal."
"Yes, I believe you once said it could get me anything I wanted."
"It can." I breathlessly assured him.
"So I see." He stood, holding me in his arms and walking forward until my ass met the rough wood of the take we started at.
As I regained my breath I looked at him and smiled. "Finally."
The longer slicked back hair and glittering earrings sent heat right back into my gut. My hands smoothed down the dark leather, tugging gently on the ruby that hung around his neck. His leather class thighs felt sinfully good against my still trembling skin.
Both his leather clad arms boxed me in as he leaned down, the ruby swinging in between us and his face only inches from my own. "Tell me, how often have you thought of this?"
"Which part? You had quite the elaborate set up here, Dream."
"You're simply unbearable," he whispered, eyes filled with lust. He kissed my jaw, teeth grazing over the skin slightly. "Tell me."
"Ever since you showed it to me." I admitted, breathlessly.
His growl vibrated through my ear, lips moving down to press against my bare shoulder. I bit my lip, closing my eyes to take in the sound. "It must have been so difficult for you to be patient."
God damn you. I thought. "Don't pretend like you weren't thinking the same thing. Tell me now, mighty Dream Lord, how often have you thought of this?"
I could feel his smirk against my shoulder. "Which part, as you said, this has all been quite elaborate."
"I'll be specific then," I mumbled. "How often have you thought of fucking me here, in this torn up dress, in this crowded tavern?"
"Since you thought of it." He admitted. "You have a very vivid imagination."
I gasped as his teeth bit at my skin, my hands spreading over the tops of his and squeezing. "High praise coming from a dream lord."
The feeling of his lips twisting into a smile nearly made my legs give way. "Praise, such a lovely idea."
He moved away from me and knelt down, gathering what remained of the material of my dress and moving it out of his way. His hands lifted my thighs, pulling me to sit further on the edge of the table. "What are you doing?" I asked over my thundering heartbeat.
"I intend to feast at Hob's table." he pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh and I moaned. "A reward for your patience."
He wasted no time, his hot tongue licking a long strip up my slit. My hands buried into his hair and grasped at the roots. He groaned against me, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to my core as his tongue swirled around my clit, slowly at first and then moving faster. My fingers pulled tighter at his hair and my head fell back, nearly pulling me flat onto the table of food. "Morpheus! Oh my god you're good at this!"
I could feel him smirk against me, but he made no move to pull away or stop. His hands held my legs apart, thumbs smoothing up and down my skin as my legs began to shake again. "Did you think I would not be?" His thoughts made me moan louder.
"No," I whispered hoarsely. "Oh, god… I knew you'd be good at this but… Fuck!" His tongue plunged into me as far as it could, lapping up all the remaining wetness from my orgasm. "Fuck you're too good at this."
He chuckled against me, the vibrations nearly making me come undone. "Morpheus, I can't!" I screamed as the building pleasure became told much.
He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers. "You can."
"Please!" I whined, pulling his hair tightly.
"One more and you can have me, my love."
His mouth was on me again, licking and sucking at my clit until I came. Dream lapped up every bit of it, pressing a kiss to my thigh before rising from the floor and tearing my dress in half. The tattered fabrics fluttered to the floor and his leather clad body leaned over me, the sensation of my bare skin against his warm leather was nearly too much. I shivered against him. "You in leather is too sexy."
He chuckled, moving some of my hair that had stuck to my forehead. "You think I'm sexy in just about everything."
"Well can you blame me?" I weakly gestured to him. "You're a masterpiece!"
"You simply enjoy flattering me," he argued.
"That too, but seriously, you're far too beautiful for this world." I kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you," he replied easily.
I wiggled my hips toward him. "Are you finally going to fuck me?"
"Is that your wish my lady?"
Looking down at my bare body I shrugged. "You already kept your original promise, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity."
Dream nodded, his eyes hungrily taking over me, hands following. "It would indeed."
He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder and moved me down the table. With one hand he freed his engorged leaking cock from his pants and lined it up with my still soaking and pulsing core. With the other he stroked my leg, turning his head and pressing a kiss to my knee as he slowly pushed into me. My hands gripped the edge of the table, head falling back against it with a loud thunk. The hot stretch was something I'd never get used to, something I'd never grow tired of no matter how many times he fucked me.
Once he was seated inside me, our hips flush against one another he leaned over, kneading one of my breasts in his hands as he pulled back out and thrusted back in. "Morpheus!"
"I'll never get enough of you," he moaned, his hips moving quicker and his hands moving my legs to wrap around his small waist. He pulled me up, my hands gripping his leather clad chest as I gasped and moaned into his neck. His arms kept me from collapsing as he began ernestly fucking up into me. I barely hung off the table, his arms holding the majority of my weight. One hand gripped my hair, pulling my face back so he could look down at me. "Penelope," he set his forehead to mine and said softly, "I am yours… I have always been yours and always will be."
I pressed my mouth to his, joyful tears filling my eyes as we came together, his arms tightening around me and holding me to him. I pulled away and nuzzled my face into his cheek. "I'm yours, forever."
***
We had been back in The Dreaming for a week. Dream busied himself with work while I took to practicing my thread work. While both of us were busy we still made time for one another. As I'd seen in his memories he could be forgetful, neglecting even if overwhelmed, but he seemed to be making an effort to keep that from happening again. He'd said many times that he hadn't changed, but I could see it, as could Lucienne and Matthew and maybe even Merv.
I'd grown stronger every day, both at thread work and within The Dreaming. Licienne said it was normal, that it was simply the realm adapting to my authority. No matter what it was, I enjoyed it. Everything felt lighter, easier somehow. Spending most of my time with Lucienne studying the threads and practicing I grew very adept at finding my way through the infinite library. She and I grew closer, so much so that I nearly had her calling me Penelope. She was a good friend and a brilliant advisor and she loved this realm more than anything.
As I sat, going through the list of fruits and vegetables to craft a pressure built in my head. It was dull at first, like a headache, but slowly grew. I pulled the apple loose from the threads and voices began to echo through the library. "Lucienne?"
"Yes, Pe - my lady?" She replied, peeking her head out from the row of shelves across from me.
"Do you hear that?"
She paused, listening intently before shaking her head. "No, what is it?"
"Voices," I replied standing and honing in on them.
"You can do nothing," one said, dark and full of malice.
"I'll not let you use her as a puppet in your twisted whims." Destiny? He sounded weak, pained?
"Tell Dream I'll be right back!" I called to Lucienne before running through the door and into his garden. It was darker, deep storm clouds filled the sky and the hedges looked like they were withering.
I followed the thread, sprinting towards the center of the maze. "Destiny?!" No reply, just the whistling of the wind. I moved faster, a feeling of dread rolling over me. "DES?!"
As I broke through the maze and stumbled into the courtyard, blood coated the pristine rocks, leading over to the table where Destiny lay, clutching a hand over his side. "Penelope," he ground out. "Turn back."
I rushed to his side, pressing my hand to his. "What happened?"
"So this is the new favorite?" The voice, old and dark filled the garden. "I was expecting, well, more."
Turning my head toward the statues I saw her. Perched comfortably on a throne of black thorns adorned with rusted gold sat a woman. Her long red hair curled around her shoulder, the gold that speckled her skin shimmered in the dim light, but she was wrong. Black veins covered her arms, overtaking the faint black mark on her wrist. Beneath me Destiny groaned. "Leave her out of this."
The woman smiled. "Come then, little Weaver. Let's see if you're strong enough to best me."
"No," Destiny whispered, grabbing hold of my hand. "You cannot fight it."
"I don't think I have a choice."
The woman descended her throne and it crumbled beneath her. "You're nothing to them, the Endless. A pawn, a mortal. Join me and we can rise to our rightful place in this universe. No more rules, no more lies."
I stood, watching the careful steps she took as she walked closer. "I'm not interested."
A scoff, or perhaps a growl echoed from her. "You're a fool then. Just like Destiny. Just like Dream. Just like her."
"Her?"
She gestured to herself. "This vessel. Destiny's dearest. And, your predecessor."
"If you're not her, who are you?"
"I am just another nameless god that the Endless locked away out of fear."
Destiny laughed. "You were locked away because you threatened this world, not because we feared you."
"ENOUGH!" It screeched, dark tendrils pulling at its features, twisting to show the true face beneath. "I've waited eons for this. I'll not lose to a mere girl!"
I shrugged. "I'm a bit more than that."
Without warning it ran forward a golden blade in its hand and swiped trying to cut me. I dodged, moving high and low seconds ahead of its blows until an opening presented itself. With one quick shove to the shoulder I caught it off balance. Grabbing the wrist I slammed its hand onto the table over and over again, ignoring the way it clawed at my shoulder until the blade fell into the rocks.
Pulling my arm away I rolled, finding the knife easily and pointing it at the creature with a human face. "I'm not going to let you hurt him."
"Even after he lied?" It sneered. "Even after he withheld all the answers and knowledge from you."
"He's doing his job," I replied coldly. "A job I trust him to do, just as he trusts me to do mine."
"You are a fool!" It shrieked. "Just like she was!"
It lunged again, but as it came face to face with me, the golden blade at its throat the black of its eyes cleared, weeping gold shining through. "Kill me." The voice was soft, human, desperate.
"Lyria," Destiny breathed. "Please."
"Kill me, Weaver." She said again, pain filling her voice.
"No!" He cried out, desperately trying to rise to his feet. "Penelope don't!"
"KILL ME!" She wailed moving closer, pressing the blade deeper into her, drawing blood. "Please… I can't keep it… I can't…"
The black returned and with a bestial screech the creature was gone. The sky cleared, the hedges regrowing and everything returning to life. Destiny still lay on the ground, though his wound looked to be healing. Tears streaked down his cheeks.
I knelt down beside him. "Who was that?"
"The creature is an old I locked away in an old book of spells." Destiny said.
"And who is she?"
"Lyria," the way he spoke was pained, desperate. "She's my… She was.."
My eyes drisyed to the mark on his arm, the sane mark Dream and I shared and a wave of nauseous pain roiled through me. "What happened?"
Destiny sighed, his eyes closing. "The book changed and I did not heed its warning."
"What made it change?"
"You," he said so softly, remorsefully that it physically hurt.
I let out a shuddering breath. "I did this?"
His eyes opened again and he grabbed hold of my hand. "No. No you did not do this. I did." The tears in his eyes still shocked me. "I discovered a new Weaver had been born... You. I took you under my wing, all without telling Lyria. I was... I meant to..." He sighed again, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I was going to offer her my sister's blessing, at the price of her duties as Weaver. She and I could have lived together, here, forever."
"But you didn't?"
"I never got the chance," he admitted. "She returned from a journey, saw you... What you were and thought I'd intended to replace her. My mistake drove her to seek out knowledge, power, far beyond what she could endure. The being of darkness I trapped long ago twisted her, corrupted her and left nothing of my Lyria left but a hollow husk."
"I'm sorry," I whispered, knowing it wouldn't help. Nothing would.
He smiled at me. "Don't be, little one. The fault is mine and mine alone." After a minute he stood, holding his book and bowed his head. "You should return to The Dreaming."
I stayed still. "Do you need anything?"
"No."
"Will you call me again if it returns?" I asked gently. "I'll help you face it."
With a sigh he nodded. "If it is what you want."
"Thank you."
I left, following the butterflies in absolute silence. Destiny was living proof that my greatest fear was possible, that I could hurt Morpheus, The Dreaming, my newfound family. Even worse, the creature that had taken Lyria could find a way to hurt them… I could fail. As I opened the door back to the library, Lucienne embraced me, her eyes taking in my clawed shoulder and disheveled state before Dream came barreling into the room. Oh, Dream. My soul bound starry eyed Dream.
He was angry, speaking low and fast, but I couldn't hear any of it. I just saw him. He was alive, safe, they all were. As tears streamed down my cheeks I moved forward, burying myself in his chest. "I'm sorry," I wept.
Dreams arms curled around me, the cold sinking into my bones. "I was worried."
"I'm so sorry!" I pulled back and looked up at him. "I will never hurt you."
"What?"
"I swear on my life, on everything that I am, I will never hurt you or The Dreaming. I'll never betray you…" I was sobbing now. "I will always come to your aid. I swear it."
His cold hands cupped my cheeks. "Breathe, my love."
Dream pressed his forehead to mine, holding me securely against him. "Breathe. You're home, you're safe."
***
The Bull marched through the white hallways, undisturbed by the screaming and wailing that echoed from every room. Everyone moved around him, the nurses, the muscle, even the other hunters, he was above them - every last one. He straightened his shoulders as he came to the office door of the renowned Dr. Elias Shenton. Opening it slowly and entering even more so he bowed his head, folding his arms behind his back. "You called, Sir?"
The echoes of his machines filtered through the room with each breath he took. Where the broad desk should have been was now a bed, turned to face the window. All he could see of the doctor was one thin, sickly arm stuck with wires and needles. "Yes, Dominic, I called for you."
"How may I be of service?"
Wheezing breaths and light coughs met his ears. God he hated how pathetic they all sounded. "Give the order to begin construction of the cage and get me Ethel's book. Dream of the Endless may not be a player in this game she's built, but she was so desperate to protect him. He may still be of use to us yet."
The Bull nodded. "Of course, Sir."
"One more thing," he added as his voice faded into coughing. The Bull waited, tapping his foot impatiently. "I want The Marquis to be dealt with."
This time The Bull smiled. "I'll handle it personally, Sir."
20,430 words (53 pages). This chapter has been an absolute terror to write, I hope y'all enjoy it!
TW: Desires rude AF, general distress, depictions of drowning, smut (if y'all liked Soft Dream buckle up), minor angst, confrontations, blood, violence, cliffhanger (I'm warning y'all now 👀)
When Dream entered the library he felt lighter than he had in decades. He felt whole, as did his realm, everything was as it should be for the first time since his capture. Lucienne greeted him politely, pulling out the books she'd picked out and fixing her glasses on her face nervously.
"What have you found?" He asked looking down at the slightly dusty pile.
"I'm not sure," she admitted with a sigh. "When you gave me the name of our lady I looked high and low attempting to locate anything about her here in The Dreaming. As you predicted, nothing."
He nodded. "She does not dream, so it is unlikely we'll find her here."
Lucienne glanced at the book in her hands and held it out to him. "Last night, shortly after the two of you… returned to the palace I found this on my desk."
The book was bound in multicolored threads, glistening in the light as it moved. Penelope Barlow carved into the front. His finger traced over the letters. "How is this possible?"
"I don't know, my lord," his librarian admitted. He moved to open it when she cleared her throat. "Sir, if I may…"
"What is it, Lucienne?"
"I read what was in the book, sir, to be certain it was our lady. What you find will no doubt distress you. And I only wish to remind you that The Dreaming is still weak and in need of you now more than ever."
"Lucienne," he interrupted.
She sighed. "It appears… It seems one of your siblings was involved in our lady being severed from The Dreaming."
His chest burned and he moved to open the book again, but just as his fingers curled around the edge he felt a blinding pain pierce his head. Dreams vision swam, the pain so great he had to steady himself against the table. Lucienne gripped his arm, her startled voice incoherent in his ears. When it vanished along with the heartbeat he'd been feeling beside his own since he’d brought her back to The Dreaming he dropped the book. "Penelope!"
Teleporting to his room the fear turned into all out panic at the sight of the bed in disarray and her bag of trinkets on the ground, the small objects scattered across the floor. He couldn't breathe. The room filled with shadows as his fear gave way to anger. Luciennes warning swirled in his mind. One of his siblings was behind this, and once he found out which one nothing short of his lady's return and their cries for mercy would satisfy him.
***
This was getting ridiculous. They stared down at me with their wide grin unfaltering. "As lovely as you look down there, Petal, I think you should get up."
"You," I said, seething. "You were at the bar that night."
Their hand pressed to their chest as they looked away faking a bashful reaction. "Oh, how very flattering this is! The Lady of The Dreaming recognizes little old me."
"Who are you?" I chose to ask instead of attempting to retaliate against their obvious teasing.
"I am all that you Desire."
Desire. "You're one of Morpheus' siblings."
They shrugged. "But of course."
"Why are all of you so obsessed with dragging me places?" I demanded lifting myself up off the floor.
Desire looked confused, the first genuine emotion I'd seen from them. "I didn't bring you here, Petal."
"What?"
They rolled their eyes. "You don't catch on very quick, do you?"
I'd forgotten how easily they got bored and how rude they were. "What do you mean you didn't bring me here?"
"I did nothing." They said, "Here I was, walking the halls of my realm and then poof a little flower tumbles into my path. You brought yourself here. It's what you do after all."
"What I do?"
"Yes, Weavers are notorious party crashers." They smiled. "Though none before did so as frequently or as elegantly as you."
"Weaver?" It wasn't the first time someone had called me that, but all the times before I'd written it off as some odd term among these beings.
Desire groaned. "What have you been doing all these years? It should be quite obvious what Weavers are by now." I stared at them, waiting. "Good god woman. Fine, I suppose if any of us were to let the cat out of the bag it'd be me."
Did that mean? "Have I met more of you?"
"You've met all of us," they cooed, stroking a long finger down my cheek and squeezing my hand. "Even The Prodigal before he vanished. Though I’ve heard many a rumor that says you were far more intimately acquainted with him than any of the others, even dearest Dream."
“I’m not intimately acquainted with any of you,” I growled. “Do all of you know what I am?”
"Yes," they said, grinning at the victory of their insult striking me. "All except our darling Dream. It would seem he's far too busy with his desire for you to put the pieces together by himself."
Dream. I wanted to cry. He must’ve been so worried, so angry at another sudden disappearance. The ring. I looked down to my finger, a hopefulness unfurling in my chest only to find it gone. Desire tutted in front of me, twirling the ring between their fingers. "Now, now, why would I let you go so soon? After all, we have so much to talk about."
"Give it back," I demanded, a cold possessiveness filling me at the sight of my ring, his gift to me in their hands.
They laughed. "Petal, that might work in my brother's realm, but here…" They spread their arms wide. "I'm the one in charge."
I sighed. "Please."
"Oh, you do sound so pretty when you beg!" Their golden eyes glowed. "Tell me, is that how it sounded last night when my brother finally laid his claim to you?"
It wasn't embarrassment that made the blood rush to my face, it was anger. "How would you know anything about that?"
They scoffed, turning to walk down the long twisting hallway. "I can feel the echoes of it just swirling all around you. It's sickening. Though I am impressed." I followed beside them, putting a distance between us as they looked over at me with a sly grin. "All my previous attempts to bring my brother to his knees with lovers had failed. All my attempts to twist that smug self importance were wasted. But you… You managed to do all of that and more. You make him weak."
I glared at them. "He's more powerful now than ever. And once he finds me, which he will, he's going to be pissed."
"I'm counting on it," they purred back. "Now, please sit."
A table filled the space in the middle of the room, the same glossy red material that surrounded us. It was adorned with gold and black flowers, candles and every decedent food I could imagine. Lobster, crab, oysters, lamb, caviar. I stopped walking and watched as they sat, throwing their feet up on the table to lounge. "What do you want?"
They rolled their eyes. "Sit, Weaver. I've been nothing but welcoming to you, and while I love the rebellious attitude I'm growing bored of it."
Though their words held the same flippant and disinterested attitude, the flare in their golden eyes prompted me to listen to the threat that the words veiled. I sat across from them and squeezed my hands together in my lap. They gave my ring a final look before setting it beside them. Maybe if I was quick eno- "No games, Petal. I just want to have a chat with my future sister, there's no need for this to be so… Hostile."
"Why am I here?" I asked outright.
Desire laughed and filled their plate with food. "You came to me and yet you think I somehow know why?"
I sighed. "I didn't try to come here. I was just.. I was relaxed and then everything was bright and loud and I was here."
They hummed. "Sounds to me like your little bedroom fun awakened something in you. Kinks aside, you are different you know. Special."
I hated the way they said it. "How so?"
"Not only are you a Weaver, but you're also soul bound to my brother and thus to his precious Dreaming." They indulge themselves in an oyster before continuing. "Who knows what else you…" A smirk. "Milked dry last night."
Clenching my jaw I glared at them. Now wasn't the time to pick a fight but god did they make it hard to keep this civil. "What is a Weaver?"
Desire checked their nails and quirked a brow at me. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because knowing is what I most desire. And that's your job, isn't it?"
"I like you," They said smiling. "And because I like you I'll share my knowledge. For a small price."
"What do you want?"
"Dinner," they said happily. "Just the two of us. We can go wherever you wish, but when I call upon you you'll answer."
I thought it through for a moment. Surely they'd given me enough information that I wouldn't need to resort to a deal. The gleam in their golden eyes told me they knew something more though, something I wouldn't be able to find in The Dreaming library or on my own. "Just dinner? No tricks or games? Just food and conversation?"
"Yes."
"Sorry if I'm having a hard time believing that's all you'd want."
They shrugged. "Let's just say that me sharing my information doesn't just benefit you. So, do we have a deal, dear Weaver?”
With a tense nod I settled back in my chair. “Fine, I’ll have dinner with you when you call. Just dinner, nothing else.”
They clapped their hands together and smiled widely. “Fantastic!”
Silence filled the space and they stared at me, waiting for me to ask my questions? “What is a Weaver and why do you keep saying I am one?”
“I keep saying you are one because you are.” They said simply, “As for what a Weaver is, that’s a bit more complicated and quite long winded.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage to simplify it,” I replied with a barely concealed venom that made their eyes sparkle.
They looked far too pleased at my thinning temper. “Humans, the universe, this whole mess is made up of and bound by threads. I don’t bore myself with all that nonsense, it's all Destiny’s problem anyway. All I know is one day he went into a tisy because his precious book had changed, and with that change the first Weaver was born. The book calls them Fate Weavers, ones that can not only see the threads of this universe and all within it but manipulate them, change them, even make new ones. The divides between realms are thinner for them, which is why you poof away from one place and plop into another. Destiny says that Weavers go where they’re needed, blah blah boring.”
“You said Weavers, as in more than one? What happened to the others?” I asked quietly.
“What happens to all humans, Petal. Weavers are still human. After the first, others followed and it became another natural law of the universe.” They cleared their throat and in a mock voice that sounded like they were trying to imitate Destiny they said, “There must always be a Weaver, only one, or the threads of this world will snap and everything will be plunged into an early grave. Or, that’s what Destiny and his little book claim at least.”
I met their golden gaze. “You don’t believe him?”
They smiled. “Dear, I won’t pretend to care what he does with that book of his. He’s by far the most boring of them all. Your Dream, however, has my full attention.”
Dream always seemed uncomfortable about speaking of his siblings. Death he seemed fond of, but he’d never willingly spoken of the others. When I’d told him I visited Destiny’s garden he was upset, concerned, when there seemed to be no reason for it. Was Desire the reason he was so hesitant to speak of his family? Or was he, perhaps, the reason behind the spiteful gleam in their eyes. “What did he do to make you so angry?”
“Nothing,” they replied, though I couldn’t tell if it was the truth or not. “He’s just so… self important and uptight. Messing with him is quite fun.”
I hummed. “I think there's more to it than that.”
“Do you now?”
“I think he hurt your feelings,” I stated. “I think he made you feel lesser, and I think you’re looking for a way to make him feel the same.”
They scoffed. “You know very little, Weaver. Now, hush up so I can finish telling you about your history, since it’s apparently my job to educate Dream's new pet.”
I let the insult roll over me and nodded. “Fine.”
“Since the beginning there have been plenty of your kind, but the last one got a bit greedy with the power given to her. I don’t know what happened or why, but whatever it was gave way to you, Destiny’s favorite.” Favorite? I wondered to myself. Nothing he’d said or done had particularly stood out to me as favoritism. They continued, “You are soul bound to Dream and you are a Weaver. Those two things alone make you quite special, but the thing that takes the cake is your pretty little starkissed blessing.”
“Starkissed blessing?”
They gestured toward my head. “Your glow. The reason you’re still alive, petal. It seems our mother dearest fished you out of Death's path and gifted you with immortality, well, for the most part.”
“Mother?” Fuck me, I’d worked my way through his siblings and now I’d apparently met his mother. Dream was going to lose his mind.
“Night, the mother of the Endless.” Desire said in a tone that sounded calm, but held an edge I couldn’t fully understand. “Though her and daddy have never really cared much for this world, nor my siblings and I, they created us. Our father, Time, only ever speaks to Destiny nowadays and even that’s rare and Mother always favored Dream above the rest. She’s… detached to say the least, though she seemed to like you well enough to save you.” Desire nearly scoffed. “Perhaps it was solely because of your connection to Dream, or some other selfishly motivated idea of hers. I don’t care much, all I know is her little blessing keeps you from aging and your substantial Weaver magic heals up those pretty wounds of yours and your connection to my brother and his realm gives you far more power than you should have.”
“So, I’m part human, part Endless and blessed?” I asked with furrowed brows. “That’s too much.”
“Indeed it is, Petal.” They agreed. “It makes you interesting at least.”
Desire was rude and spiteful and grew bored easily. They were unlikable in nearly every way, yet, I found myself feeling far more comfortable than I had been around most the others. They lied and were deceitful by omission, yet something in me told me they weren’t playing a game now. “Why tell me all this?”
“Because Dream obviously isn’t going to. He’ll do what he always does, keep you in the dark, safely leashed somewhere he can have constant control.” Desire’s smile fell, for the first time during our conversation. “You’re special, one of a kind, but above that you have a good heart. The things you desire are…” They paused, looking down at the ring they’d taken. “They’re good. It’s infuriating, yet refreshing after dealing with centuries of boring people and boring desires.”
“So, you like me?” I asked with a smug grin.
They rolled their eyes, whatever moment of honest tenderness they’d been willing to show me long gone and the gleam back in their golden eyes. “I find you interesting. The others would let you fail right from the start, but I see no fun in that. I’d much rather watch you try first, then fail. Besides, it will make Dream absolutely livid when he finds out it came from me.”
“And asking for dinner in return for all this?” I pressed. “Why would you want that?”
“To gossip of course!” They laughed. “I have so very much I’d like to tell you about my brother.”
“Why not tell me now?” I questioned.
Their Cheshire smile widened. “As I said earlier, we don’t have all day. Your dear Dream is no doubt throwing a fit trying to find you, and once he gets here he won’t want to stick around.”
Guilt filled my lungs at the thought of Dream. I hadn’t meant to teleport, to leave, and I was certain he would understand that, but it still did little to ease the uncomfortable sensation in my gut. “Will you give me my ring back now?”
“No, petal,” they chuckled. “I want to draw out your visit for as long as I can. The angrier I can make Dream, the better.”
“So what am I to do, while we wait?” I asked, more annoyed with their refusal to return my stolen possession. “Twiddle my thumbs and listen to you bitch?”
With a shrug they pulled their feet from the table, circling it to stand beside me. "What has my big brother shared with you about himself?"
“I haven't asked.” I replied. “He's respected my past and I intend to respect his.”
Desire made an amused face, kneeling down to meet my height. “You'll grow to rethink that stance.”
“No I won't.” I insisted with a cold glare. “When he's ready to open up about whatever it is that’s got you all giddy I’ll be there willing to listen. We’ll work through it together.”
“So confident, yet so naive.” They clicked their tongue, stroking my cheek. “You’re sweet, Petal. So when my big brother fucks you over, which he will, know that my door is always open to you.”
I grit my teeth. “Thanks for the generous offer, but I won't need it.”
“My big brother's past lovers all ended in tragedy.” They said, with a hint of warning. “This will be no different.”
“Do I look like a tragedy to you?” I asked with a lethal calm. I’d survived far worse than a break up. Dream and I were bound together, no gossiping sibling was going to sway that.
The gold of their eyes sparked at the challenge. “No, I don't suppose you do.”
I stood, their eyes following me. “I'm leaving.”
Desire laughed and gestured to the air. "I'll not keep you prisoner. You came to me, I'm certain you can find your own way out." My eyes flashed to the table, but the ring was gone, back in Desire's hands. "I'll be keeping this though, wouldn't want you to cheat now would we."
"It belongs to me." My head began throbbing, a vivid thread woven of red, gold and black appeared wrapped around Desire's neck, disappearing and reappearing at random as I blinked.
They turned and started walking away. "If you're still here in an hour do come find me for drinks."
The thread trailed behind them, leading back to me. As I looked down at myself, threads of all colors and thickness and brightness covered me and everything around me. Some were solid, others were fraying and tense as if they were pulled too tightly and then there were the ones that moved like they were liquid. They began to glow brighter and brighter the more I looked.
When I looked back up, the glossy red of Desires realm was replaced by a vast expanse of darkness, shimmering with far away stars. I could still see the outline of the walls and table, but it was dull and devoid of color. On the right was a thick golden thread that glowed and hummed with warmth. It was fluid, moving like a river of molten gold. On the left was a thin silver thread, ridged and unmoving with waves of freezing cold rolling off of it.
My head began throbbing as the lights grew brighter and brighter until I could see nothing else. A ringing in my ears echoed as I curled into myself, shutting my eyes to try and save them from the burning brightness. For a minute all I could do was force myself to breathe, and then slowly the ringing faded and the light went out.
Opening my eyes slowly darkness surrounded me in a dull room, lit by a handful of mostly melted candles. Not again. I stood, carefully, my eyes straining in the darkness. The sound of heavy rain and thunder and waves echoed all around, but there was no window or door in sight. I picked one of the candles up, doing my best to ignore the burn of melted wax and began to move through the darkness.
All around the floor was covered in squeaking rats, they moved when I came close and minded their business, but I could feel their beady eyes watching me. "You shouldn't be here."
I jumped, twisting to look around me for the voice. "Hello?"
"You shouldn't be here, Weaver." It said again, familiar and sad. "No one comes here. No one wants to."
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I don't know where I am… Or how I got here."
"It feels different from last time." The voice mused, sounding even closer but as I looked no one was there. "You want things now, you've grown and put much behind you, but it's still there. You buried it."
My heart began beating faster. "Who are you?"
The voice chuckled a little, but the sound was strangled, forced, wrong. "Your sister in law."
Sister in law? Desire said something similar. "You're one of Dream's siblings?"
The rats grew restless at the sound of his name. "Yes, he's not fond of us though. Not like he is with others, with you."
"I'm sure he cares for you in his own way," I replied cautiously. "Can you help me?"
"Help?" The voice echoed. "Help you. Oh yes, yes I will help you."
A door appeared in front of me, the rats lining the path forward. A chill ran up my spine. "Where does it lead?"
The voice was in my ear now. "To help."
My feet didn't move, but the door grew closer and closer until it passed over me, opening and closing tightly once I was through it. The dark hallway was lined with mirrors of all shapes, sizes and adornments. I looked into them as I passed, watching my reflection twist and change shape right before my eyes. This place was officially the worst and I wanted out. Now. How did I do it last time? I kept moving, the rats on the floor breaking away to carve a path for me as the small candle in my hand lit the area.
Light, a tiny sliver of it, peeked from a half open doorway at the end of the long hall. Maybe someone was here, someone who could help send me back to The Dreaming. I opened the door slowly, and the more I did the less light shined. A mirror, tall and long, lined in a frame of fish hooks stood in the center of the room. I walked closer.
The reflection was blurred, but as I got closer it cleared until I stood looking into Olethros' eyes. I swallowed a broken sob just as the door behind me slammed shut. When I turned to the noise another mirror blocked my path, the family that had died in the fire staring back at me. I turned again to another mirror, an old lover. Another mirror, another dead friend. All around me were mirrors and every last one of them held the shape and faces of those that had died because of me.
My lungs burned as I tried to keep breathing, tears filling my eyes and spilling with no resistance. Olethros spoke. "Fighting almost always leads to death and destruction. Are you prepared for that?"
"No," I breathed.
"Auntie Pen! Auntie Pen!" The voices of the children chanted.
"We're safe, right Penelope?" Their parents asked.
I covered my ears. "Not this."
"Do you love me, Penelope?" My old lover asked.
"Please!"
"Come on Pen, you gotta live a little!" My friend insisted.
"Stop."
"Penelope," they all began to cry out to me, repeating conversations we shared, calling out to me.
I looked up at Olethros. "I'm gone because of you."
"Stop."
His warm eyes went gray. "They killed me because I tried to save you."
I was on my knees now, weeping. "Stop!"
"All of us are dead and it's your fault!"
"Your fault!"
"Because of you!"
"STOP!" I screamed as loud as I could, my hands slamming down onto the floor, rats scattered away from me as below my hands the ground began to crack. A line of golden light illuminated my right hand, winding around my wrist like a band or… Or a chain and a line of silver on the left, mirroring the gold perfectly. My right hand burned and my left felt frozen. Chest heaving I slammed them down again and again and again until the floor finally gave way.
I was falling, falling for what felt like hours until I hit the cold water that raged below. The waves were too strong, pulling and pushing me under with a force I couldn't fight against. I fought and raged, desperate to break the surface, but I couldn't. Fear seized me, my lungs burning as I tried to scream. The more I fought and raged against the waves the further down they swallowed me. It felt like an eternity had passed before I shut my eyes. I was going to die, for real this time. I was going to die. Dream would blame himself… He would be heartbroken, he’d lost me once already. No. No. NO!
Air stung my skin and the ground beneath me burned. A hand rubbed and patted my back, urging my body to purge the water I'd swallowed. Gasping and clawing at the pebbles beneath my fingers I sobbed. "Breathe, Weaver. You are safe."
"Destiny?" I choked out as the garden around us became clear.
"Yes."
I looked up at him, my body finally finding a way to breathe again as I threw my arms around him. He didn’t return the embrace, but steadied me with a hand on my back. "Will you please answer my questions?"
"Some, yes."
His scent soothed me, filling my body with a sense of familiarity and safety. "Do you have tea?"
He offered me his hand. "Yes. Your favorite."
"Thank you." I whispered.
***
"Dream," his sibling purred as he approached. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"Where is she?" He asked roughly.
Desire smirked. "She was here some time ago, though she was in quite a hurry to leave."
"No games," he said, the hold he had on his temper losing its grip by the second. "Where is she?"
"Gone." They said, pursing their lips and twirling something on their finger. "She did leave this for you though."
Dreams heart lurched into his throat. Her ring. Why would Desire have her ring? "How did you get this?"
"She gave it to me," they said, eyes glowing, smile widening. "Said if you came looking to return it to you."
No. She wouldn't do that. Fear and nauseousness filled him. Unless… "What did you tell her?"
They gasped, a hand flying to their throat. "Me? Gossip?! Dream I would simply never!"
His hands slammed into the table, the force of the blow cracking the glossy red material. "Enough. What did you say to her?"
Their smile didn't falter. "I may have mentioned your string of tragedy with all those other lovers. Or perhaps it was an implication of keeping secrets? Oh dear, it's so difficult to remember."
Dream stood, slowly circling the table to stand above them. If Desire knew anything about what he’d learned and twisted the truth to make him out to be some villain in Penelope’s eyes… No. He refused to think of the damage they could have done. "Last chance, sibling."
Golden eyes sparkled up at him. "Are you that desperate, big brother? If I’d known she’d finally be the push I needed to get you this worked up, I’d have sought her out years ago." They held the ring up to him.
He took it from their fingers, resisting the urge to break them completely, clenching it in his palm. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I offered her some information on her unusual circumstances and she left."
Wordlessly he grabbed a handful of their hair and pressed their head into the table. "Where is she, Desire?"
"I don't know." they replied. "Perhaps our brother would?"
Their brother? Dream loosened his grip. If they knew what he did... Had they told her? "What do you know?"
A wide grin. "I've heard a rumor... One that our darling Weaver was not too pleased to hear."
"She wouldn't believe anything you said." Though directed at Desire, the words were entirely for himself. A poor attempt to soothe his fear.
Beneath his grip they shrugged. "I only offer what I've heard, Dream. But, as for the location of your darling Weaver I truly have no clue as to where she'd ended up. I do hope it isn't anywhere dangerous."
His gut twisted even more at the thought. She could be anywhere and without the ring he had no way of finding her quickly. Damn him. He should have noticed it sooner! He should have known what she was the second he saw her! If he hadn't been so distracted he could have kept her safe. And now. He released Desire. Now he might very well lose her again, for certain this time.
"If you attempt to disrupt my personal affairs with my lady with your gossip again I shall free your lying tongue from your mouth." He growled.
Desire's laugh echoed around him as he walked away. "I do hope you find your lady, Dream! She was quite keen on not staying put for long. I do hope she’s not avoiding being found, but you're strong now so even if that is the case it shouldn't be too much of a challenge!"
Had she left? He thought as he felt The Dreaming curl around him. Was his sibling simply trying to goad him on, or was there some manner of truth to their words? Dream sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If Penelope learned of Nada… If she'd learned of what he'd done to her, would that be enough for her to leave him? He looked down at the ring in his palm. Why would she have given it away? He needed to find her… Now, before it was too late.
***
Destiny had summoned food to go with our tea and for a while we just sat at his table silently drinking. I was starving, thirsty beyond imagining even though I’d no doubt swallowed half a damn ocean. So for a while the safe silence allowed me a chance to eat and recover from nearly drowning. But with each passing minute my head throbbed more and more. “Is it true… Am I a Weaver?”
“Yes.”
“Desire told me they were of your domain.” I said. “If that’s true why am I bound to Dream and not you?”
Destiny took a drink of his tea. “Your bond to Dream is not something that can be changed or influenced by either of your functions. It is because it is.”
My fingers traced over the mark. “So there's no logic behind it? No rhyme or reason?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Don’t you know everything though?”
He was silent. Though that told me what I needed to know. Our bond was something no one would have answers to, not in this life and maybe not in any other. That didn’t bug me, I didn’t care where it came from or why, I was just glad that it kept me linked to him even after all the years we’d been apart.
"Well, I don't suppose you'd be able to tell me exactly what I'm supposed to be doing as Weaver?"
"Your duty is to keep the balance of this world in check." He looked over at me. "How you do that is entirely up to you."
I curled myself deeper into the warm shawl he'd given me. "But if Weavers are of your realm then why don't you just tell me what needs done."
Destiny sighed, setting his teacup back into its plate. "Desire wrongly assumes you are made of my realm and thus I have dominion over you. Weavers are not of any realm, but the whole universe. You are not bound by the laws my siblings and I are, nor are you strictly bound by the laws of mortals."
"So I'm some kind of cosmic wild card?"
"If that is how you wish to see it." He answered with a smile.
"Why are you answering my questions now and not when I first showed up?"
"Perhaps you are simply asking the right questions this time. Or perhaps it is my duty to ensure you do not knowingly break the laws of the universe nor do you seek out knowledge beyond that which you are capable of understanding.”
"What if I did?" I asked, remembering Desires words about the previous Weaver. "Break the laws I mean?"
Destiny seemed to sit up straighter. "I would be forced to tear your heart out."
Oh. Okay. "Why that specifically?"
"You're resilient creatures, but the heart is where the threads, your individual ones specifically, are most concentrated. It is crude, but on occasion necessary."
"Is that what happened to the previous Weaver?"
"No."
I tilted my head. "What happened then?"
Again Destiny was silent. I couldn't tell if this was one that meant he'd spoken all he could on the subject or if he'd simply not wished to speak more of it. Either way it was obvious that there was a more ominous question hanging in the air, one I had apparently gotten close to. “Does my bond to Dream make me dangerous?”
He tilted his head slightly. “Yes.”
Fear shot through me. “Could it be used to hurt him?” Destiny seemed to understand my true question… Could I hurt him?
“Weavers are perhaps as close to my brother as mortals can get. Reality bends to your will as it does his. In theory any Weaver could use such power to harm him or any of the Endless. Your bond to Dream makes you a particularly unique threat, as his realm will also heed your commands. But, I do not think that will be your fate.” He said calmly. It was the most solid answer I’d gotten from him, and some part of me told me it was his way of easing my worry.
With a sigh of relief I looked around the garden. “So, how do I do this whole… Weaver thing?”
“However you choose to.”
“Destiny…” I grumbled.
“There is no one path, Penelope. How you find access to the threads is your own path, not mine nor any others before you.” He explained softly.
I rubbed my arms and sighed at him, my head throbbed even more and before my eyes, curled around Destiny’s book and up the chains was a glowing gray thread with small veins of brown. “What do they mean? The threads?”
“They represent the world around us.”
“Desires was red with smaller thinner strings of black and gold. Yours is gray with brown. Are all the threads different?”
“Yes.” He said simply. “Everything is bound with the threads, but no one thread is like another.”
“What do the colors mean then?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “That is something I’ll leave to you to determine.”
"Can you see them?"
"You alone can see them, but in theory it would be possible to show them to others."
I sighed. “I’m going to have to talk to you a lot more aren’t I?”
I could have sworn he smirked as he lifted his teacup back to his lips. “If that is the path you choose.”
“Damn you and your cryptic answers,” I said with a laugh. “So, now what?”
“Now you choose a path.”
We stared at one another for a while, before I asked, “What if I pick the wrong one?”
Last time he’d given me a cryptic reply, one about there not being right or wrong. This time he only smiled and said, “I have faith in you, Weaver.”
I stood and gave his shoulder a pat as I moved past him towards the shrubbery covered in butterflies. “Guess I’ll see you around, boss.”
This path was far shorter than the one I’d walked down last time. The butterflies dispersed halfway through the walk, and before I could call out to them or say anything my head swam again. It was less painful than the other times, the brightness far more bearable as I looked at the threads, every one of them leading back the way I'd come from, all but one. I poked the green thread, watching in awe as the smaller specks of brown, gray seemed to shine beneath the touch. Tiny sparks of red and black lifted off of it, disappearing into the air.
The green thread led further down the path, deeper into the maze. The smarter choice would be to turn around, follow the other threads and the butterflies, but the thread now between my fingers hummed and sang, the small vibrating tune one that felt familiar, urging me to follow it. With it pressed between my fingers I walked down the path, following every twist and turn for what felt like far too long before the maze opened to another smaller courtyard. In the center a tall half destroyed marble statue stood. It was impossible to pick out any prominent features, but it still held a beauty to it. The thread was wrapped tightly around the sword the statue held at its side, torn threads of red and black peeking out from beneath the green.
I let my fingers glide up the thread, brushing softly against the cold marble that began to shake beneath my touch. As soon as I pulled away the marble shattered, the force of it sending me back so hard my head hit the ground, which was now a cracked and broken foundation. "Ow," I mumbled to myself, pressing my hand to my head.
When I managed to shake off the blow I forced myself to my feet, looking out at the endless sky of debris and metal that floated all around me. As I turned, a tall building came into view, ornate and old, a museum? The tall statues on either side of the steps were cracked away to nearly nothing, the pieces floating in the air around them. Two doors hung loosely off the hinges, creaking softly as the building trembled. Inside looked just like a museum, but it was all wrong.
Marble statues were shoved into a corner, each of them misshapen and cracked. The paintings that lined the walls were terrible, even for abstract works, some were even torn or burned. Every sculpture or wood carving, all of it was wrong. Torn up bits of ink stained paper floated in the large cold room. The further I moved the less art I found, weapons instead lined the walls, hung and polished with broken glass floating around them. Echoes of clashing steel, pained screams and shouting echoed from each one sending chills up my spine.
In the very back was a small oak door, one that opened before I even touched it. The room was small, everything packed and cluttered together. A large bed sat shoved into the far corner, the pillows torn to shreds, feathers still hanging around them, the blanket thrown over something in the center of the room. At the foot of the bed was a small dog house, the roof of it caved in and the name scratched off. The fireplace on the right whistled softly, ash built up at the bottom of it. Paint splotches covered the sleek cracked floors and a broken easel was laying on the ground with paint brushes and ink pens thrown around.
The humming returned as the world of threads filled my vision, the green thread pulled taut leading to whatever the blanket covered up. With every step I took sliced slivers of red and black threads flew up from the ground filling the air. I carefully pulled the blanket away, revealing a small glass case with an old and tattered paper butterfly in it.
My breath caught. This way my butterfly, the one De had given me and that I'd given to him. My fingers brushed against the glass. "Olethros."
The name shook the building, the glass shattered under my fingers and the butterfly floated up into the air. I had just enough time to catch it before the floor gave way beneath my feet and sent me plummeting down into the debris and shattered void. There was nothing to find purchase on, nothing that did not crumble immediately beneath my touch. All I could do was fall until there was no silhouette of the building, nothing but the tiny butterfly I clung to.
The longer I fell, the less I could feel or see or hear. Even when the debris and glass cut me or hit me no pain stuck. It felt like the world around me had been stripped away as the dark world of threads filled my vision. The green thread clung to the butterfly in my hands, but now a blue thread glowed, silver and lavender veins glistening in it like stars, wound around my finger where Dreams ring had been. I somehow managed to grab hold of it, the mark burning as I held it tighter. I want to go home. Please take me home.
I felt a pull, strong and steady catch me and I fell faster, the debris that surrounded me falling with me. When the ribble beneath me hit the ground black sand scattered all around, I curled up, landing on top of it roughly as the debris followed. With wobbling legs I stood and wept happily at the sight of the ocean. The soft salty breeze wrapped around me lovingly, The Dreaming welcoming me home. I stood on a mountain of rubble, as a voice began shouting, growing closer to me I turned to find Lucienne running through the sand.
"My Lady!" Lucienne cried as she approached the bottom of the rubble pile. She reached up toward me, offering two helping hands.
"Lucienne!" I sobbed jumping down into her arms. The smell of books and berries filled my nose and I breathed out a relieved sigh. I was home. "God I've had the craziest day."
She pulled back at that, looking me up and down before she shook her head. "My lady, you've been missing for nearly three weeks."
"Three…" I laughed a little. "No. That's… I was…" Oh god, Morpheus. "Lucienne, where is he?"
"Lord Morpheus paid a visit to Desire not long after you disappeared. They told him you'd left and didn't want to be found."
"Why would he believe that?" I asked softly.
"They had your ring, my lady. They claimed you gave it to them to return to Lord Morpheus if he came looking for you."
Fuck. "That fucking…" I shook my head, now wasn't the time. "Where is he?"
Luciennes eyes grew sad. "He's locked himself in the throne room. No one has been able to get in for a week."
"Take me there, please?" I begged, clutching her arm.
She led me through the gates and into the the realm now covered in dark storm clouds. When we finally reached the large doors leading to the throne room they were shut by gnarled back roots. Oh, Dream… He spent all this time thinking I'd abandon him, thinking that I'd run from him. God that fucking asshole was going to get their ass kicked if they ever called in on that dinner. I stepped forward, Lucienne catching my arm quickly. "My lady! I do not know if it's wise for you to approach. I fear it may be dangerous."
I gave her a reassuring smile. "He would never hurt me."
She let go of my arm and held her hands together. "Be careful, my lady, please."
The black roots snapped and curled away from the door as I moved closer, pushing it open just barely enough for me to fit through before closing again. Dreams throne room was pitch black, not even the night sky above could be seen. The marks on my wrists glowed in the darkness, illuminating the swirling shapes that filled it. Nightmares.
The mark was cold, almost as cold as the silver that lined my wrist. The nightmares moved away from me as I continued forward, searching for his familiar face and pale skin. "Dream?"
The nightmares echoed my voice, but it was twisted and wrong, whispering things into the dark that I hadn't said, that I'd never say. Had he been torturing himself this whole time? I called out louder. "Dream?"
The steps to the throne nearly tripped me as I stumbled into them. I climbed carefully moving until I reached the top and found the messy hair and slim frame I'd been looking for. He was slumped over on his throne, his head hanging low as he stared down at the ring that lay in his palm. "Oh, Dream."
He didn't react to my voice. I reached out to touch him, but he flinched harshly away. "Leave. I've not ordered you to mock her with your imitations."
He told them to do this? I dropped to my knees in front of him, cradling his hands in mine. "Morpheus."
When he finally lifted his head, face set and rage in his eyes, preparing to take it all out on the nightmare he mistook me for, a broken breath left him instead. "Penelope?"
I nodded, smiling through the tears. "It's me."
The pure pain that filled his eyes struck me to the core. "You left."
"No." I cupped his face in my hands. "No, I didn't leave. I mean I did but…" I sighed. "I got lost. Really lost as it turns out, but the whole time I was trying to get back to you."
His hands closed around the ring. "You gave them your ring…"
"Absolutely not!" I insisted. "They took it off my finger while I was adjusting to, well, crash landing into their realm."
"They took it from you?" His brows furrowed and his grip on the ring tightened and his face turned in anger. "I should have known that they-"
I pulled myself into his lap, forcing him back into the seat and clung to him. For a moment he was dazed, sitting still against me, but as my heart hammered against his chest and the mark sparked to life between us his arms moved, wrapping around me and pulling me in even more. "I'm so sorry."
Dream sighed into my neck, his hands squeezing me tighter. "I thought you'd left."
Pulling back I pressed my forehead to his. "I would never leave you, my Dream."
His cold breath fanned across my neck as he held my face. "If you wanted you could go home-"
"You are my home." I whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. "You always have been."
Dream slid the ring back onto my finger and pressed a desperate kiss to my knuckles. "Never take it off again, please."
I kissed him everywhere I could. "Never. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause all this trouble."
The nightmares were gone, the starry sky lighting the throne room from above. "It wasn't your fault. I should have recognized what you were."
"You know then?" I asked softly, my lips stilling against his jaw.
"Yes." He sighed. "Forgive me for not seeing it before."
"No," I stopped him. "I'm the one that needs to be forgiven. Even if it was out of my control, I still hurt you." I pressed my lips to his neck. "Let me make it up to you?"
He groaned as I nipped gently at his throat. "I can deny you nothing, my love."
My body slid down until my knees hit the cold floor. Dreams hand curled onto the back of my head as I pulled him free from his pants. "You don't have to-"
"I want to," I said, looking up at him. "It's my turn to worship you, my lord."
I could feel the hot ball of lust curl in him, burning hotter when I took him into my hand pumping him slowly. He clenched his teeth, his eyes smoldering down into mine as I pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his cock before pressing my tongue flat against him. His head fell back against his throne with a shuddering breath and a phantom tingle of pleasure that coursed through to me as well.
Hollowing out my cheeks I took him into my mouth, dragging and swallowing around him as his hands gathered up my hair and gripped it tightly. "Penelope," he moaned breathlessly. His voice rippled another wave of arousal through me as I continued my movements, looking up at him through my lashes and gripping his thighs tightly. God he was gorgeous like this. A true king receiving the worship he deserved.
When his hands tugged at my hair, pulling my mouth from him I groaned, ready to complain when he dragged me back into his lap and pressed his mouth to mine in a sloppy, desperate kiss. He coaxed my mouth open and tangled our tongues together while his hands ripped the pair of shorts off me and pressed me into him.
The tip of his dick brushed against my clit, ripping a moan from my throat. "Morpheus."
He pulled me up, positioning himself at my aching hole. "Promise you'll never leave me," he breathed against my neck. "Swear it."
My hands fisted in his coat. "I swear, I'll never leave you. I'll always come home."
The word caused his hands to tighten around my hips and force me down onto him, sheathing himself all the way to the hilt. My breaths were ragged as my cunt squeezed him. "Home," he said. "You're home."
With a gentle hand on his cheek I looked down at him, tenderness soothing over the hurt. "I'm home."
With one hand on my hip and the other on the back of my neck he lifted me off him with ease, nearly pulling out entirely before sliding me back down. As he slowly began quickening the pace his hand slid down my spine, over my breasts until his fingers settled between my legs. We gasped and moaned and bit at one another, marking each other with teeth and hands. The pleasure building between us both made my head spin, the world melting away and the familiar blue thread enveloping me and Morpheus.
It was him. His thread that tethered us that had brought me home. My heart burned as I gently pressed a finger to it. Beneath me he gasped, moving his hips faster, pleasure etching into the stoney coolness of his face. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," I answered, fingers running up the thread before stilling completely. "Does it hurt?"
"Fuck, no," he chuckled a little, star filled eyes meeting mine. "Don't stop."
I pressed my lips to his, resuming my movements and basking in the glorious sounds he made beneath my trembling thighs. "Come with me, Dream." I demanded as the coiling pleasure built up tighter and tighter. "Please," I breathed before the coil snapped. My hand closed around his thread tightly as I came and with that motion his release followed.
We held one another close as we both caught our breaths, but eventually he kissed my shoulder and pulled back. "Are you hurt?"
"No," I said softly. "Just a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing I can't handle."
He examined my skin, gently taking note of each mark. "What happened? Where were you?"
I leaned into him with a sigh. "After you left I was relaxing when this god awful headache made me fall out of your bed. When the pain was gone I was in Desire's realm."
His grip tightened. "What did they say to you?"
"Breathe," I reminded him softly running my fingers through his hair. "They told me I was a Weaver, explained it a little, refused to give me my ring back and left."
"Why were you not there when I arrived?"
"I saw the threads," I said, gesturing around us. Something in his eyes and voice made me feel like there was something he hadn't said. That thought gave way to an all too familiar pinch of hurt that I quickly reburied. "And then I was somewhere else. Darker, creepy with a shit ton of rats and freaky mirror tricks."
"Despair." He shook his head. "You certainly have been busy."
With a laugh I nodded. "I'm sorry I worried you."
Dream smiled, pressing his lips to mine. "You're home now, that's all that matters."
"I love you, Dream of the Endless."
"I love you, Penelope the Weaver."
A light knock echoed from the throne room doors. "My lord? My lady?"
"Oh shit, Lucienne!" I missed hopping off his lap and looking down at my bare legs. "Did you have to rip them?"
Dream grinned. "No, but it was far more enjoyable."
"Can I get some new pants then, mighty lord?"
His eyes ran down my legs. "No, I quite like the sight of you."
"Dream!" He waved his hand, a knee length skirt draping over me, no underwear. "Really?"
Standing, his own clothes now clean, he pressed me into his body. "It's been nearly three weeks, I'm nowhere close to done with you, little Weaver."
I'd been hearing people call me by the title for weeks, but the way he said it was my favorite. With a playful shove I followed him down the steps where Lucienne entered the room with a sigh of relief. "My Lord, I was so worried!"
"I apologize, Lucienne, for my dark behavior," he said stiffly, as if we hadn't just fucked on his throne. "But, My Lady is home now."
She shook her head. "Where have you been?"
"A lot of places," I told her. "Which reminds me, do you have any books on Weavers in that library of yours?"
"A Weaver," she smiled. "Of course. I'll gather every volume I can, my lady."
Once she'd gone, Dream set his head on my shoulder. "Let's attend to your cuts."
I closed my eyes, taking in the softness of his hands as he wrapped them around me. "They're tiny little scrapes, Dream. They won't even need band aids."
When I opened my eyes we were already back in his room with the tub standing in front of me. "Tiny or not, I'll see to it they're taken care of."
"This is just an elaborate plan to get me naked, isn't it?"
He nipped at my neck. "I hardly need to resort to such things."
I hummed. "Very true, with that voice you can get anything you want."
"Anything I want?" He asked. "That's quite a powerful thing."
"Says the Endless," I teased. "Are you getting in with me or are you gonna just stand there?"
We were both naked in the blink of an eye. Dream settled into the hot water first before practically pulling me in between his thighs and massaging my tense shoulders with his hands. I didn't remember falling asleep, but when I woke we were wrapped up in the silky bed, his arms wrapped around me, one of his hands was running his fingers through my hair and the other held a book.
I lifted my head, pressing my chin to his chest. "Good morning, my love."
Squinting I looked out the window at the now rising sun. "How long was I asleep for?"
"A day," he said with a chuckle. "You must've been exhausted after all your traveling."
Groaning, I let my head drop back onto his chest. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
The book bounced on the side of the bed beside me as he ran his hands soothingly up and down my back. "Rest then," his lips pressed to my head.
"But you have things to do," I murmured against him.
"I can do them later."
"No," I sighed, pushing myself to sit up. "I've got things to do too. No more lounging around." The soft caress of his hand up my spine brought me right back down against him. "Okay, five more minutes."
Five minutes turned into ten. Ten minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into three. When I'd finally managed to shake off the stiff tiredness in my body and pull the needy Dream Lord off me I sat up and stretched, all too aware of his eyes on my naked back. "Don't even think of it."
He chuckled. "You're far too beautiful for me to resist, my love."
As he moved from the bed to his wardrobe I bit my lip at the sight of his prominent muscles and cute, tight ass. He chuckled at my thoughts as he picked out an outfit, though from here they all looked the same. "I could say the same to you, my lord. And why are you physically picking out an outfit? You have magic, you know."
"Some things I like doing with my hands," he said, looking over his shoulder at me with a grin. "As you're well aware."
Blushing, I wrapped myself in his sheets and moved behind him, kissing his shoulder. "Do I get a fancy wardrobe too?"
"Would you like one?"
"Maybe," I admitted. "If it's not too much of an intrusion on your space."
With a wave of his finger a second wardrobe appeared beside his own. "Your heart beats in my chest, Penelope, a wardrobe is hardly an intrusion."
I practically vibrated all the way to it, opening it up to find the clothes I'd brought with me as well as extras. Turning to him I smiled. "Did you make me more clothes?"
"Perhaps," he admitted.
"How thoughtful of you, Dream." I kissed him. "Which one is your favorite?"
He said nothing, but his eyes betrayed him with a quick glance to a beautiful gown in the middle. I turned, running my hands along the fabrics before plucking it out of the wardrobe. It was ethereal looking and felt like touching a cloud. I shooed him away and changed into it, feeling his eyes on me as I admired the look of it in the mirror.
The top was sleeveless with two thin straps twining around my neck and leading down into a diamond shaped bodice of silver and lavender with tiny gems detailing it. The bottom was tight against my hips before flaring out with strips of misty blue puffing out like waves. I ran my hands over it. "It's beautiful, Morpheus."
"Far more now that you are in it," he replied standing next to me, dressed in his usual attire, but the stars and midnight of the inside of his coat seemed brighter. I twisted, examining my scars for a moment feeling a quick pang of nervousness… Vulnerability. He turned me into his arms, kissing my scarred wrist. "You are beautiful, my love. Every inch of you."
I sighed against his lips. Kissing him was something I'd never get enough of. My hands wound in his coat, tugging him even closer. "Damn you and your irresistible lips!"
"I can say the same of you." He chuckled, pulling away and offering me his arm. "Lucienne is expecting us in the library. She's found quite a selection on Weavers for you."
We walked at a leisurely pace, Dream was calm more so than I'd seen him in a while. Lucienne had just finished setting the books on the table when we walked in. She smiled, bowing her head a little. "My Lord, My Lady."
"That's a lot of books," I said, moving from Dreams' side to look at the piles. "Are all of these about Weavers?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. There were more, but I picked out the ones I thought would be most beneficial."
"This is going to take forever," I whined.
"My Lord," Lucienne said. "There are a few matters that require your attention. Merv was looking for you."
He nodded, eyes fixing on me with a worry in them that I recognized instantly. "Go, Lucienne will keep her eyes on me."
He sighed. "If you disappear again…"
"I won't." I said. "And even if I did, I have my ring back, and I won't be losing it again. I'll call for you the second something feels off."
"Very well," he said, bowing his head a little. "I'll return soon."
Lucienne and I jumped into reading, all of it both very helpful and not helpful at all. I learned the basic history of Weavers. Learned of all their names and greatest feats before they died, which was fascinating. The world benefited so much from them and no one ever knew. But, all explanation of the threads and their meaning was vague to say the least, and there was nothing on how to access them. Halfway way through Matthew had joined us and had not been helpful but offered up some support.
I groaned, setting aside another book and slumping against the table. "More of the same?" Lucienne asked.
"Yep." I replied. "None of these are going to tell me how to do this."
"Perhaps it is as Destiny told you?" She suggested. "Personal to the individual rather than a science."
"So you think I should ditch the books and try to feel my way through it?"
"Why not?" Matthew asked. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"I could teleport to Hell," I offered up.
He sighed. "Right. That would be bad."
"Perhaps you can practice simply summoning the threads for now?" Lucienne said. "You said it is rather simple, a bit uncomfortable but easy enough to manage."
Nodding, I stood up, moving to give myself enough room to work with. "Okay, here goes nothing I guess."
I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths I willed the darker world up from whatever depths it was buried in, opening my eyes to the threads and the headache that came with them. "Okay, now what?"
"What do you see?" Matthew inquired.
"A shit ton of glowing threads."
"Okay well, touch a few?" He said.
I moved to the flowing gold, watching it move, sparks of it flying off towards Lucienne and Matthews chests. Reaching out my finger barely grazed it before a burning hot sensation shot through me. I yelped, jumping back and rubbing my finger. "Okay… Gold thread is hot as fuck. Do not touch the gold thread! Holy shit."
"Are you alright, my lady?" Lucienne asked softly.
"I'm okay." I said. "Wasn't expecting it to be that hot."
I moved to the solid silver thread, the cold rolling off of it as I reached out. Unlike the gold it was cold and I could touch it. I held my finger to it, the cold slowly sinking into my bones, spreading up my arm. Voices echoed around me, ones I'd not heard in years, and misty visions spilled from inside it threatening to overtake my sight completely. Hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back, severing the connection to the thread.
The world returned to normal and Lucienne held my cold hand in hers. "My lady! Are you hurt!"
"I'm fine. Why…" I looked down at my hand, deathly pale and covered in frost. "Oh."
Lucienne sighed in relief as the color began returning to my skin. "Let's stop touching the threads for now?”
Matthew cawed. “Yeah I second that.”
“Just, examine them? If you can describe them to me, I may be able to check the books for specific details.”
I nodded, once again pulling the threads back up and looking at them. All the objects around me looked like they’d been woven of blue and silver and lavender threads. Dreams thread. “The Dreaming,” I said, marveling at the realization. “It’s all made of his thread, all woven together by him.”
“Lord Morpheus is The Dreaming,” Lucienne observed. “It would make sense that his realm is built of him, perhaps even connected to him.”
I turned my head to Matthew, who had perched on the edge of a chair. His thread was thick and white, but the white was covered with winding threads of blue and black that pulsed around it with each breath he took. He himself had a blue and white mist rolling off of him. “Well? How do I look?”
I smiled. “Like a smoking bird.”
I ran my hand through it, hot and cold sensations pin pricking my hand. “Is smoking good?”
“Good, I think.” I assured him. “Your thread is lovely. White wrapped up in blue and black ones that glow everytime you breathe.”
The smoke plumed higher as he puffed out his chest. “That sounds impressive.”
Turning to Lucienne as she jotted down notes I smiled at her bright purple thread, deep and rich with veins of brown that resembled the leather of her books and tan that reflected her eyes. Unlike Matthew hers were woven together, every color touched and mingled into the purple. “Yours is different from his. Dark purple, with brown and tan, but they’re woven, intermingling with one another. Matthew’s threads don’t touch, each one is its own thing almost.”
Lucienne hummed, scribbling away furiously. “This is fascinating.”
As she smiled her thread glowed. “It’s beautiful, Lucienne.”
She blushed, something I only noticed because of the purple glittering that lit up her cheeks, hiding it beneath her glasses. “Thank you, my lady.”
The library door opened and I turned, my eyes widening at the beautiful glowing of Dream. Unlike everyone else he appeared as he always did, no mists or blocked out features. I could see every inch of him. More astonishingly was the beautiful thread that was wrapped around his head, a crown of sorts. I smiled. “Maybe you don’t need a crown after all.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
I pointed. “Your thread, it winds around your head. A crown.”
He nodded with a tiny smile just for me. “You’re looking at the threads then?”
“Yep!” I looked down at the mess of threads that wrapped around him, connecting him to everything in the room. “You’re covered in them. The threads of The Dreaming, I’d assume.”
Lucienne’s pen scribbled in my ear and Dream looked over at her. “Is she writing this down?”
“She thinks if I describe it to her she might be able to find something in a book to help us get a better idea at what we’re looking at, or, well I’m looking at.” I said quickly. “And since touching is a no no-”
“Why is touching them bad?” He interrupted.
Shit. I shrugged. “Some of them are more… potent than others.”
“She burned her finger on one and then almost lost a hand to frost bite on another,” Matthew tattled.
I turned and pointed at him. “Keep that beak zipped Smokey!”
Dream lifted my hand, examining it. “It’s fine, really. It was like less than a minute.”
“Any other interesting developments?” He asked with a pointed look and a hum of warning down the bond. “Are you being reckless?”
“Nope.” I said. “Me? Reckless? I’m offended, Dream.”
“Please, be careful.” His thoughts caressed my mind, soothing the headache as he pressed a kiss to my fingers. “Have you tried making anything yet?”
“Making things?” I inquired.
He gestured to a book. “Weavers are not just able to see the threads, but to manipulate them and in turn create things with them.”
“Right,” I whispered. “I don’t even know how I would try that.”
Dream motioned me over with a hand. “Come here, hold out your hands.”
"Dream..." I muttered.
"Humor me," he said softly. "Please." Damn his silk voice.
I let him pull me in front of the library table. "Hold out your hands." I did and he readjusted them instantly before he settled behind me. My breath caught in my throat at the feeling of him pressing against me, firm hands gently helping to hold my arms out in front of me, palms facing one another. His breath fanned across the back of my neck as he leaned down and whispered, "Clear your mind."
God, I whined to myself and his pride flared. "That's not always so easy for some people."
"I'm sure you are perfectly capable." He purred, the sarcasm light in his soft rich voice. I tensed my jaw. "Relax, Penelope."
I closed my eyes and did my best to follow his instructions, no matter how seductive they sounded rolling off his silken tongue. After a minute or two passed he hummed behind me. "Good. Now, imagine one of the dreams you wanted as a child."
I imagined the meadow.
"Focus on something, focus hard, examine every detail you can see, every sound it makes. Everything."
I focused on a group of butterflies flitting from flower to flower. Their glistening wings beat softly, the color of them catching in the sunlight. Orange. Blue. White. Green. Yellow. All of them were so beautiful, so graceful as they moved in a rhythm all their own. My fingers felt heavy with the feeling of the threads wrapped around them.
"Now, move your fingers."
"Move my fingers?" I asked with a testing flex of my fingers in the tight strings. "How?"
"However feels natural," he replied.
I resisted the urge to scoff at him as I moved my fingers, testing at first but slowly the uncomfortable tightness eased and the threads moved without resistance.
"Extraordinary," Dream said from behind me. I opened my eyes, a sarcastic question already waiting on my tongue. But there in between the palms of my hands hung five butterflies made of the glowing threads.
"Holy shit. Okay, what do I do now?" I asked, a mixture of awe and nervous tension building in my gut.
"Whatever feels natural," he said again, his hands moving to my shoulders, squeezing them gently. “Relax, my love.”
I laughed nervously. "Natural. Okay."
For a while all I could do was stand there and stare at them. My fingers twitched, tugging the threads a little, and with the pull the wings of the butterflies twitched too. Pull, a thought gently suggested something that hadn’t felt entirely like my own thought, easing my fingers apart and pulling the threads taut. They began to glow brighter until the strings snapped. Five butterflies, real butterflies, fluttered their wings, taking flight right in front of me.
Lucienne gasped at the sight, smiling brightly. "Amazing."
I slowly let my hands drop, eyes following the butterflies as they swirled overhead. Dreams hands rubbed my back as my arms dropped. I turned to him. "Did you?"
He gave me a small smile. "I did nothing."
"I made them?" I asked, returning my eyes to the butterflies.
"Yes. It would explain why the others cling to you," he stated. "You are their maker, they are bound to you."
My eyebrows furrowed. “When would I have made those?”
Dream stiffened a bit, eyes casting to Lucienne who cleared her throat and approached me with her notes. I looked at him curiously, that pinch of raw and painful hurt flaring inside me. No. I told myself, pushing it down. He wouldn’t. I looked over Luciennes notes and made whatever corrections I needed to before we settled into the chairs at the table. I’d been able to make a ball, a pen, a feather, and a small square of fabric. Lucienne suggested I practice more, to help exercise the power and hopefully lessen the pain it caused me to use them.
After a while I began to feel worn out, tired and quite irritated at how difficult it was sometimes. Dream summoned me food and after Matthew and I ate he suggested we take a walk. We walked through a beautiful garden on the grounds of his palace and we finally got a chance to talk about all the things that had happened over the past few days. “Did you send me a dream, after you left my apartment?”
“What?” He asked curiously. “What dream?”
“Everything was frozen and three ladies were in my room, talking in riddles.”
He sighed, annoyed. “The Fates. What did they say?”
“Fates as in Greek mythology fates?” I was a little surprised.
He nodded. “They have many names, The Fates. The Kindly Ones. No matter what name they go by, their troublesome nature is always the same, and they never give prophecy out freely.”
“Well I didn't give them anything,” I assured him. “Maybe they didn’t give me any prophecy. Maybe it was just gibberish.”
Dream shrugged. “Perhaps. As long as they didn’t harm you.”
I smiled, bumping him. “I’m fine, Dream.”
“Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you where all you traveled to in your three week vacation.” He teased me. “I know you saw the twins. Who else?”
“Destiny,” I answered. “Not surprising though since he’s like my boss.”
“What did he tell you?” His voice was calm, but there was a flash of something in the bond, quick and fleeting and not something I could catch quick enough. The pinch grew.
“He explained a few things, not in great detail, but it was helpful I guess.”
With a nod he breathed out a deep breath. “Anywhere else?”
I almost stopped walking at the memory of the museum, and the butterfly that now lay up in Dreams room in my bag of trinkets. “There was this one place I didn’t recognise. A museum?”
He stopped walking, his head turning to look at me. “You found Destructions realm?”
“Maybe?” I asked. “Who is Destruction?”
“My brother,” he said softly, a pang of guilt and swirls of sorrow and rage filling him. “He… He abandoned his role and his realm.” The words he left out were clear in my mind. He abandoned his family.
My heart pounded faster. “Did he… Did he have another name?”
Dreams' eyes were confused as he answered, “A few.”
“Was one of them Olethros?”
A look of realization passed over his face. “You knew him?”
Swallowing the thick lump in my throat I nodded. “He was my friend. After the river…”
Dreams hands squeezed my shoulders. “Do you know where he is?”
I shook my head. “Until just now I thought he was dead. Thought they’d…” The rest died on my tongue as I quickly pushed the painful memories back down into my gut.
“I’m sorry.” He said, his grip on my arms lessening. “I am surprised you knew him at all.”
“Me too.” I admitted. “But, that’s all the places I went.”
“How did you find your way back?” He asked, as we stood close to one another.
I smiled up at him. “I found your thread, wrapped around my finger. And I just kept thinking about how I wanted to go home.”
“I’m glad you found your way back,” he admitted softly. We stood there for a moment longer before he moved away a little. “We should return. You need to practice more.”
Groaning, I pulled on his coat and slid up against him. “I’d rather not.”
He pressed a kiss to my head and I felt him smile. “Very well, perhaps we could do something else?
I looked up at him with a grin. “Did you have something particular in mind?”
“A game, if you’re willing to play?”
“Is there a prize?” I asked.
His starry eyes glistened. “You may choose anything you wish.”
I smirked. “I can think of a few things. What’s the game?”
“All you have to do is evade me successfully.”
“Hide a seek?” I asked with a giggle.
“More of a hunt than seeking.” He answered deeply.
A thrilling chill ran up my spine. “You think you’re a good enough hunter to catch me?”
The gleam in his eyes had darkened as he answered. “Of course.”
“Fine then, rules.” I said looking up at the sun in the sky. “If you can’t catch me by sundown I win. No teleporting or power usage.”
He bowed his head, lips hovering over mine. “I agree to the terms.”
I pressed my lips to his. “Good luck, Dream Lord.”
Then I was gone, running quickly through the garden giggling. “I’ll give you a ten minute head start, darling, then I’m coming for you!” He shouted, the words vibrating through me.
***
Ten minutes had passed and Dream had begun his hunt. They were only thirty minutes in, but he was impressed. No footprints marked her path, no obvious signs she’d been anywhere in the palace at all. He widened his search spreading out beyond the palace and into the village where his dreams and nightmares lived. Some had already returned in the short time he’d been back, which gave him hope that the others would soon as well.
He checked the shops and asked his subjects if they’d seen any sign of their lady. All had told him the same thing, that she’d run straight through the town and headed off in the direction of the beach. So, he followed. It made sense that she’d choose the beach, it was large and had vast hills and mountains that would provide good hiding places. But as he neared the gate a little blue butterfly caught his eye. The insect flew along the path and then turned abruptly down a familiar road. He smiled. Cain and Abel.
Sure enough he could feel her the closer he got, though she appeared to be inside with the brothers. Dream waited, watching the area fill with the butterflies, hovering around the house she was in. When Cain stormed out and she and Abel followed, the tiny golden gargoyle on her shoulders, he wanted to move, but something in her face stopped him. She looked at Cain with a sadness on her face that made every inch of him curl. If Cain had upset her he would-
She set the gargoyle in Abels hands and walked to Cain’s side, the fountain blocking his view. He moved silently, crossing the bridge and finding her again just as she wrapped her arms around Cain’s stiff body. For a moment he was nervous of what Cain would do at his lady's kind embrace. Of the two brothers he was far more irritable and rash. He took a step closer, prepared to intervene if something were to happen, but he paused as Cain returned her hug, crying into her shoulder.
Did she know how miraculous she was? He wondered as he and Abel watched the sight in awe. When the two pulled away, the butterflies in her hair beating their wings softly, Cain wiped his eyes. "Forgive me, my lady."
Penelope shook her head and grabbed Cain's cheeks, speaking so softly he could hardly hear her. "Don't apologize." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "If you ever wish to see the memory again, don't hesitate to call upon me."
He nodded, smiling at her in a way Dream had never seen from him. "Yes, my lady.
She turned and her smile grew as their eyes met. "I've found you."
A wicked gleam in her eyes sent his heart soaring. "Found me, yes. But I believe the exact word I used was catch me."
"You intend to make me chase you, my love?"
"Oh absolutely," she said, moving cautiously around the fountain, her hands behind her back. "We both knew you'd find me, but I'm not sure you can catch me that easily."
His brows rose. "No?"
"I'm very quick on my feet, Dream Lord."
He chuckled. "Quick on your feet, yes I've no doubts on that. But you forget this is my realm, it bends to my will."
"Ah, but we're equals, you and I." She was just out of reach now. "Whom will The Dreaming be more inclined to listen to, I wonder?"
"First you steal my heart and now you would strip me of my realm?" He joked blandly. "What a wicked creature you are."
Penelope blushed. "Oh dear Dream Lord, I've yet to show you wickedness."
He moved to step towards her but found himself unable to. Some invisible force had wrapped around his legs, pinning him to the spot he stood. Dream looked up at the proud smile Penelope had as she stepped closer, revealing the threads in her hands. "Are you stuck Dream?"
"This is cheating," he said with a barely concealed chuckle.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She insisted. Pressing a light kiss to his lips she walked past him. "Better hurry, Dream, the suns going down."
He watched her walk away with a confident sway in her hips. Damn her and her little threads.
***
I sat on the bridge, watching the sun start to set in the distance. Any minute now I'd be victorious and my lovely pouty lipped Dream Lord would be paying me with the view of his pretty head between my thighs. A wave of power rolled over me, bringing every hair on my arms standing up. There at the end of the bridge Dream stood, hands in his pocket and his dark gaze fixed on me. He tilted his head up. "You and I have business, Weaver."
Fuck. I jumped up and started sprinting. If I could get to the library the endless shelves and Luciennes rules on manners would surely buy me just enough time to-
I slammed into a solid black mass, his pale hands wrapped around my wrists and he bent over me with a dark, hungry gaze. "You are quite quick for a little rabbit, but I am a very experienced hunter and I'm set on catching my prey."
Threads wove between my fingers before he pulled my hands away from each other. "None of that now." His eyes turned to the sun just as it disappeared over the horizon. "I win."
"You cheated!" I insisted, not even flinching at the change in scenery as he took us to the bedroom.
Dreams' eyes glistened. "You cheated first. I was merely adapting to the change in rules."
"Damn you," I growled playfully as I pushed my chest up against his. "Well, you've got me, now what will you do?"
"Now," he brought his lips dangerously close to mine. "You practice."
My mouth fell open. He had to be kidding. "What?"
He pulled away from me, summoning a desk and gesturing toward the chair. "That's right, little Weaver. Time to stop running from your studies."
"But I thought… I wasn't expecting you to pick this!" He didn't budge. "Fine. I'll practice, but you're the one missing out, Dream, my idea was far more fun than this."
"I'm certain it was," he chuckled, pushing in the chair as soon as I sat down. Pressing a kiss to my head he moved toward the bed, lounging back with a book. "Have fun, darling."
"Asshole."
He didn't react, which only made me glare at him harder. After a few minutes when it became clear he had no intention of giving into my angry looks I sighed and turned to the desk. I focused, pulling the threads from around me and began twisting them into the familiar shapes I'd been practicing. Ball. The easiest, obviously. Once I'd finished, pulling it free of the threads I tossed it to Morpheus, who caught it without even looking up from his book. Damn that's hot. I could see his tiny smirk.
Moving onto the next I started purposefully letting my thoughts drift. Perhaps that would catch his attention. The first was simple, just an image of him through my eyes while I sucked him off on his throne. No response. Pen. I tossed it over to him again, watching his nimble fingers catch it with ease. The glint in his eye as he peeked up at me told me my plan was working. I flashed him a sweet smile and went back to work.
Time to go off script. I thought, twisting the thread between my fingers until the image of a small letter opener began to take shape. Now I thought of what I'd have done if I'd won our game, pushing all the pent up desire into it and thus into Dream. From the corner of my eye I saw his hands tighten on the book, his eyes going still. The blade gleamed in the light. I threw it right towards his head, biting my lip as he caught it and turned his head to examine it. "Quite the craftsmanship, it seems you're improving." He stabbed it into the nightstand and smiled. "Do stick to the list my love, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."
I squeezed my thighs together and returned to my work. Butterflies. The threads were soft beneath my fingers, reminding me even more of the throne room. One last try, I decided as I imagined Dream pinning me to the desk, hiking up my dress and taking me from behind. As I pulled the threads, watching the butterflies flutter their wings and perch in my hands, I didn't even notice Dream get up from the bed. His cold hands pulled the chair back, forcing me to stand, before he pulled me flush against him. "Lovely work."
"Practicing does help," I said. "Speaking of, I'm not finished with my list."
My eyes shut as the sensation of his lips pressing hot, wet kisses to my neck and shoulder spread goosebumps along my skin. "No, but that imagination of yours has me reconsidering what I'd like as my prize."
"Oh?" I squeaked out as he pushed his erection against my ass. "I think that's against the rules."
"Fuck the rules," he growled into my ear. "This is what you were picturing, was it not?"
I pushed back against him. "Hmm, it's close."
Before I could think of another snarky reply he swept the objects off the desk and bent me down on top of it. He ran his hands up my back, moving my hair out of his way as he kissed and bit at my skin. A shudder ran through my body as he grabbed my arms and directed me to hold the fabric of my gown for him. "Keep this up for me, darling."
My fingers burned with effort as he plunged two fingers inside me without warning. He made quick work of building up my first orgasm, but right as I reached the peak he stilled. I groaned, trying to force my hips back into his fingers, but his hand on my back held fast. When the pleasure had died down he continued, the same as before. By the time he denied my would be fourth orgasm I pressed my forehead to the cool wood and gasped as his skilled fingers began working me toward another denied release. "Dream…" I groaned as my legs began to shake. "Please!"
He hummed, removing his fingers from me, the material of the dress vanishing from beneath me. Dream moved my hands until they were flat against the desk. "You were right, this is far more fun."
I whined as he entered me slowly, one hand holding me steady by the hip and the other running up my sweat coated back. "Morpheus," I whispered.
"Yes, my love?" Smug bastard.
"Faster, please."
Leaning over me and pressing a kiss to my spine he smiled. "Since you asked so nicely."
Each of his thrusts were fast and deep, rocking me forward into the desk and reducing me to a limp moaning mess beneath him. He bent over me, pushing unbearably deeper inside me, whispering praise into my ear and kissing every inch of skin he could reach. I came undone once, twice, three times before all coherent thoughts were gone and only his name remained.
Moroheus. Morpheus. Morpheus. The moaning mantra in my head as I whined beneath him sent him over the edge. His body draped over mine, hot breaths in my ear as he gently eased himself out and held me upright. "You did so wonderfully, my little Weaver."
I smiled tiredly. "See? Wasn't that a better idea than practicing?"
"Absolutely."
***
The days followed similarly, Dream worked on fixing the last damaged parts of The Dreaming while I practiced with the threads and spent time among his returned dreams and nightmares. I enjoyed visiting with them, finding their unique appearances and duties absolutely fascinating, and they in turn began to warm up to me. The nights were spent either roaming The Dreaming with Morpheus or tangled in his silky sheets, sometimes both. It felt like home, a feeling I hadn't known since Olethros and the Stewards… A memory that had plagued me since Despair's realm.
Lucienne sat across from me in the library, diligently taking inventory of their books as I practiced. She sighed, setting a book off to the side of her pile, a book bound in glistening multicolored threads. A book with my name on it. "What's that?"
"My lady!" She gasped, her hand smacking down onto the book. "Forgive me! I forgot you were here."
"That's alright," I answered pointing to the book. "What's that?"
"N… It's nothing, my lady."
"It has my name on it." I observed, watching her grab it and hold it to her chest. "Lucienne what's going on?"
She bowed her head to me. "Let me just… Let me go get Lord Morpheus and then we can discuss this matter fully, my lady."
The stomach turning pinch I'd had since my return twisted into a knot settling deeper inside me as I let my hands and the threads I had in them fall watching her hurry out of the library. Something was wrong. Something Dream had been keeping from me. But what? Why?
"Heed our advice, fate touched, do not hesitate to reach out to the cold. For in the frozen depth much truth lies." The Fates words echoed in my ears as my eyes met the thin frozen thread. Could it be that easy? I wondered. Dream said their words most likely meant something, but that they never gave anything freely. And yet the longer I stared at it the more certain I was they'd been telling me to use it.
With one last glance at the door I reached over, curling my hand around the burning cold of the thread and letting my mind fall away into the images within the blizzard. Snow hung frozen in the air, the frozen lake beneath me crackling with every step I took. I couldn't see any other threads, nothing but the ridgid silver guiding me forward.
The further I walked the colder it got until a huge sculpture of ice appeared before me. Destiny, I recognized looking at the book and his cloaked face. He sat across from a child, a child with butterflies in her hair. Me. He'd said we met before, the first time I found his garden, or, I guess not the first time. I reached out and laid my hand against the frozen stone, voices and visions taking shape inside my mind.
A small version of myself walked the hedge paths with Destiny's hand in mine. I was talking, telling him every detail about my day and then some. He listened with a fond smile as he led me down the path. When we came to the familiar opening he set the table while I looked at the statues.
"Who are they?" My small voice asked curiously.
"My siblings," he said simply.
"Will I get to meet them?"
He chuckled. "Perhaps one day."
My tiny hands pet the stone raven at Dreams feet as I looked up at him with a smile. "Does this one have pets?"
Destiny looked up and shrugged. "If that is how you choose to see it, then yes."
"He looks grumpy."
"He often is." Destiny said. "Come Penelope, I have your favorites."
I jumped into the chair across from him and ate everything I could reach. Destiny sat across the table, looking like he always did. After a while I brought my hands together, summoning the threads with ease and weaving the butterflies even quicker than I could now. "Look!"
Destiny studied them as they fluttered around him. "You are improving quickly."
"It's pretty easy. You just have to pull."
"Why butterflies, Weaver?" He asked.
I shrugged. "Butterflies often represent metamorphosis, change and rebirth. They make me feel safe… Like anything is possible."
Destiny merely nodded and returned to his tea, sometimes looking up and watching me weave the threads.
My hand fell from the statue and I turned to continue down the path. What he said that day were my own words. I knew him. I'd spoken to him. I'd been weaving the butterflies since I was a child, and yet now it was difficult… I had no memory of any of it. The next statue I was perched on Destiny's shoulders, and I pressed my hand to it quickly.
"Higher Des!" I bossed, reaching up toward a large orange leaf.
He lifted me higher. "I do not understand why you need this particular leaf, little one."
I plucked it off the tree and held it right in his face. "Because this one has glowing threads! See?!"
He lowered me to the ground. "I do not."
I lifted my tiny hand to the leaf, revealing the pulsing gold threads within it and showing Destiny. "See? It's still alive. All the ones down here are dead, so I couldn't show you how pretty they are."
Destiny patted my head. "It is beautiful, little one. Now, tea?"
My hand was aching now as I continued forward with frozen tears in my eyes. "Destiny..." I said moving to the next statue of him embracing me.
I sat beneath a large tree, one that felt familiar… My parents yard? Destiny approached slowly. "Weaver."
The young me turned, letting the butterflies take flight as I released them from my threads. "Des!" The young me leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I've missed you!"
"I am sorry, little one." He whispered.
Destiny's hand pressed to my small head, and something swirled around it before I went limp in his arms. He laid me on the blanket, the butterflies I'd made swirling around him angrily. "Until our next meeting, Penelope."
I squeezed the silver thread, snapping it under my hand. The ice gave way beneath my feet and the freezing water cocooned me. As I slowly began to come to the blurred face of Lucienne and Mervs pumpkin head hovered beside me. Dream held me, his embrace warm against my frost-covered skin, but the hands that should have felt comforting felt like knives. As soon as I moved he sighed with relief. "Penelope! Are you alright?"
I groaned, forcing my stiff body to move away from him, the fear and pain that lingered in me burning hotter every second. "Did… Did you know?"
I felt the pit in his stomach tighten and saw the guilt in his eyes. "Penelope…"
Now on my feet I braced myself on the library table and turned to him with tears. "Did you know?!"
Dream nodded. "Yes."
My heart dropped and a wave of nausea filled my stomach. I’d been lied to, betrayed so many times before but none of it felt like this. "How long?"
"Not long after you disappeared."
A strangled noise escaped my tight throat as I turned away from him, pressing both my shaking hands onto the table. Everything was too bright, too warm. Lucienne and Merv stood on either side, exchanging glances at one another. Matthew hopped to my side. "Penny, maybe you should sit down and we can talk about this."
"No." I bit out, turning my head back toward Dream. "You've known for weeks… You kept it from me."
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what?" I demanded. "From knowing what he did?!"
With a sigh he moved to touch me. The hurt in his eyes almost made me feel guilty about taking a step back. "Please. Let me explain."
I shook my head, my fingers curling around the book, my book. "No. If anyone's going to explain this to me I want it to be him."
"Penelope, you can't just-"
"Yes I can,” I cut him off with a cold look. “I'm a Weaver, crashing the party is what I do." Without another word I walked away, book in my hand and anger filling my lungs.
I ignored Dreams' voice, Lucienne and Merv as they called out to me. The last thing I heard before I disappeared through the door was Matthew, "Fuck this is bad isn't it?"
The hedges greeted me, butterflies swarming instantly. "DESTINY!"
There was no answer as I stormed down the path toward the center of the maze. He stood next to the table, everything set as though he'd been expecting me. "Hello, Penelope."
I said nothing, just moved forward and threw the book at him. He caught it easily. "You asshole!"
"You have found your lost memories then."
"Yeah no thanks to you!" I yelled, raising my fist at him.
He caught my hand and held me, keeping me from moving back or forward. His head tilted slightly. "You have every right to be angry. I expected this much."
I scoffed at him. "You were my friend and you stole my dreams, my memories! Why?!"
"To protect you."
"From what?!"
"Yourself."
"I don't understand," I sobbed, the anger finally beginning to subside, revealing the raw hurt it covered up.
Destiny let my hand go and wiped my tears. "You were growing more powerful every day, far more than any Weaver before you. The book revealed to me that should you continue on that path you would be consumed by the power of the threads. The only way to stop this was to sever you from The Dreaming, from my brother's power."
"But why? How did my dreams harm anything?"
"You and my brother are equal. You are as much a part of The Dreaming as he is. So, in your sleep you drew power from it, that power fed the growth of your own. It festered an inevitable corruption and so I had to erase you from that world, and it from you." He sighed. "I left echoes of it... Your favorite places within his realm, an attempt to ease the loss. A poor one, I now realize."
"Why didn't you tell me when I came to you last time?" I asked through my sobs.
"You and Dream needed to face your pasts, mistakes and fears. He needs to come to terms with you choosing him and what that means for himself. You need to come to terms with the knowledge that he will not abandon you because of your past and free yourself from the torment you hold to."
"So this whole thing was just one big trust exercise?" I asked with a hoarse laugh.
Destiny smiled. "If that is how you wish to see it."
"I'm so sick of you saying that," I replied, nearly falling over.
He caught me, setting me gently into the chair. "You have exhausted yourself by coming here. Rest. Dream shall come to retrieve you shortly."
I laid my head down on the table, catching his hand and squeezing it as he turned to leave. "I'm still pissed at you… But thanks, for keeping me safe… I guess."
Destiny's hand squeezed mine back. "You are the Weaver, it is one of my duties to ensure your safety."
"Are we friends, Destiny?" I asked softly.
"If that is how you wish to see it."
"Asshole." I grumbled with a grin.
"Rest, Weaver."
I’d only closed my eyes for a minute, or at least that's how it felt before the sun had set and Dreams familiar presence filled the maze. His cold hands brushed my hair behind my ear and he smiled down at me as I peeked up at him. “Dream.”
“Come, love.” He whispered, pulling me into his arms. “Let's go home.”
The hurt I’d caused him still held in his chest, heavy. As soon as his bedroom materialized around us I wiggled until he set my feet on the ground and leaned into him, looking up with watery eyes. “I need to show you something.”
"You need to rest," he said softly.
"I need to do this first," I replied. "I need to show… I need you to understand."
Lifting the silver bound hand I squeezed it tightly, letting the cold fill my palm before opening it and blowing gently. Frozen snowflakes with the memories of them filled the air, their voices surrounding us in a light haze. Dream looked at them like they were beautiful, in a way I suppose they were, before he turned and looked at my sorrow filled gaze. "What are they?"
"These are all the people that died because of me." I answered. "Because I put my trust in people that didn't deserve it."
I caught one in my palm, willing the memory of the family that had taken me in play out in a small storm in my hand. "These were the Stewards. They took me in, gave me a home." Tears spilled down my cheeks. "One of the doctors most trusted associates learned I was staying with them from someone thought was a friend. When he came I wasn't there." Pain filled my chest but I kept going. "He tortured the parents in front of their children. And then he lit the house on fire with them still inside."
I gently lifted the snowflake back into the air, moving to grab the other. Olethros. "Your brother. He was my friend. The first one from after the river. The night the Stewards house burned he took me to a boat and disappeared. Later one of the white coats told me he led them away from the docks to buy me time." I grit my teeth. "They said they'd killed him and hung his body from a tree and let the birds pick at him until there was nothing left. Until recently, I thought it was true, thought that he'd died because of me."
The next I smiled a little at. "This was David. He was one of the few people I was able to be with, without thinking of you the whole time. He was kind and funny and accepting." I sobbed a little. "They found him and left him to die on the floor of our apartment. With his dying breath he asked me if I loved him… And I couldn't tell him yes." I exhaled a hot heavy breath. "He died knowing I didn't feel the same as he did."
Dream was deathly still, his eyes watery as he watched me grab another snowflake. "Isabel. Before Pierre and Johanna she was my best friend. She wanted me to live my life, even with the white coats and the bullshit. I was always resisting. One night she had somehow talked me into going dancing with her." I sighed. "It was one of the best nights of my life. When we were walking home they came. I told her to run but she didn't, she refused to leave me. One of the white coats, the same one from the Stewards, broke my spine…" I paused, forcing myself to keep breathing. "She tried to help me and he slammed her against the pavement until her head was split open. I only got away because someone had called the cops."
I met his eyes and shook my head. "I've been lied to, betrayed and used for so long… I've lost so many people because of it. I know you were just trying to protect me. I know you weren't hiding it to use against me or anything like that but…" I closed my eyes tightly. "But in the moment all I could feel was this. The echoes of these faces…"
Dream had moved, enveloping me into his cold embrace so quickly I hadn't noticed. I clung onto him and sobbed. "I'm sorry, Morpheus."
"No," he said. "I'm sorry. I should have told you from the start. I never should have forced you to turn to the thread, never should have made you feel this way."
He lifted his hands to my cheeks, wiping away my tears gently. "Just, promise me? Promise me you wont keep things from me."
"On my honor as an Endless, as King of this realm, as your soul bound, I swear to you that I shall never withhold anything from you again." He said, pressing his head to mine. "Forgive me, Penelope."
"I do," I whispered. "I forgive you." Curling into his chest as the ice around us melted into soft drizzles of raindrops. Dream chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't expect them to melt."
He shook his head, pressing a long gentle kiss to my lips. "I don't mind the rain. Now, rest my little Weaver."
We curled into each other on the bed, foreheads pressed together, our breaths shared and every inch of us touching. I felt the warm safety fill my chest once again, washing away the ache. He was my home, more than that he was my heart. Dream was my heart, the last, small piece of it that remained untainted by the institution's drugs and cuts. In his chest, safe and secure my heart beat, broken and scarred but not any less beautiful.
***
Dream fixed the collar of his coat for the third time as we neared Hob Gadlings house. “Relax, I doubt Hob’s going to care if your collar is out of place.”
He glared at me for a moment. “I’m perfectly calm. Though I do not understand why all this fuss is required.”
“You’re watching a movie and having drinks with your friend, I’d hardly call that a fuss.” I said with a wide smile.
He rolled his eyes at the mention of friendship. “Our original agreement was perfectly acceptable.”
"Everyone needs a friend, Dream,” I said cheerfully. “One they don’t just see every hundred years is preferable.”
"Do you have friends then?" He questioned with an arched brow.
I shrugged. "I have a Constantine."
"Is she not a friend?"
"She's more of a feral street cat, but I suppose it's close enough." My smile only widened. “I also have Pierre.”
Dream ground his teeth together. “Yes, the Frenchman.”
Laughing, I kissed his cheek. “He didn’t upset you did he?”
We’d stopped by the apartment before heading to Hobs. Pierre had been lounging in my bed, fully nude. When we appeared he stood up and gave me a hug and a big smoke filled kiss before introducing himself to Dream with a lazy handshake and a puff of his cigarette smoke.
“Of course not.” He said, but the tense tone of his voice said otherwise. I couldn’t exactly blame him. When I asked Pierre where Johanna was he told me she was out of town, on business looking for a certain doctor. Then he’d not so subtly implied he and I would get plenty of alone time for the week.
“He’s an asshole,” I admitted. “But I promise he won’t try anything.”
Dream’s eyes had softened as he looked down at me and squeezed my arm. “I trust you.”
A bubble of joy filled my chest. “I know. I just wanted to reassure you, there's nothing to worry about.”
Hob opened the door and greeted both of us with a wide hug. “Come in!
His home was very cluttered in a tidy way, not a Johanna way. Antiques collected over his long life hung proudly on the walls, he made sure to point out all the interesting ones and give long speeches for them. Dream was hardly paying attention, but I found it very interesting, getting this look into Hobs life. His living room was all set up for a movie, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, assorted snacks set out and drinks readily available and an array of old DVDs set in a neat pile on the small table at the end of the couch.
I grabbed the movies and opened my mouth. “You have a DVD player?”
He nodded, moving out of sight into the kitchen for a moment. “Of course I do! A few years ago before all the fancy technology I was convinced they’d make a comeback so I collected everything I could for them.”
Dream looked so out of place. His black attire clashed against the warm earth tones of Hobs home. He looked around with a mildly displeased look on his face. Human things were still very new to him. “You live close to the New Inn,” he noted looking out the window to the brick building just down the road.
Hob returned with a bowl of chips. “Well I had to get a place close by. Saves the planet a bit and saves me money.”
“Your home is lovely, Hob,” I said, admiring the old tapestries on the wall. “It’s nice to finally meet a fellow antique collector.”
He wiggled his brows and smirked. “Beautiful Penelope, I am an antique.”
My face scrunched up. “That was your worst one.”
“Oh I’ve said much worse,” He argued.
Hob and I took our seats on the couch while Dream awkwardly stood by the window. I patted the seat between us and smiled. “Come on.”
He settled in uneasily. “You just sit here and stare at this screen?”
“Yep,” I answered, catching a popcorn kernel in my mouth.
“After the movie we’ll head down to the Inn and have some drinks.” Hob added, starting whatever movie he’d picked. “A perfect night out.”
The dream king looked far less convinced by the idea but settled into the couch with his hand resting comfortably on my thigh. Hob's choice of movie was fine, something I’d expect from an old man trying to impress his immortal god friend. Halfway through as the sun started to set out the window I laid my head on Dreams shoulder and snuggled into his side, a flare of want echoing between us as he squeezed my thigh.
Hob was completely engrossed in the movie, munching on all the snacks he’d laid out and making commentary about the time period. As he spoke my mind had the, apparently loud, thought that Hob Gadling had a nice voice. Beneath me I felt Dream twist a little to look at me. “So now it’s Hob Gadling whose voice you swoon for?”
I scoffed. “That’s not at all what I thought.”
“What else of Hobs are you drawn to?” He teased.
Leaning over a bit I took in the wide eyed excited gleam of the man beside Dream and smiled to myself. “He is quite handsome.”
“He looks like an ordinary man.” Dream insisted.
“Most men look like ordinary men, Dream. Not all of them have the perks of being you.”
Hob stood and excused himself to the restroom and the instant he was out of sight Dream turned to me with a grin. “You find him handsome then?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t be disgusted with the thought of sleeping with him.”
“Oh?” He leaned forward a little, lifting my chin. “Do you wish to sleep with Hob Gadling, my lady?”
"I'm sure he isn't a poor lover," I teased him as he dragged a finger down my arm.
"But he's not me."
"That sounds a bit egotistical, Dream, even for you."
"It isn't ego." He leaned closer, tilting my head back more to expose my throat to him, his cool breath flaring across my neck as he whispered, "It is a fact. As is this," His lips skimmed across my throat, coaxing the quiet moan from it. "You would not be satisfied by Hob Gadling, not when we both know what it is you truly want."
"Oh?" I breathed out as he straightened up and though he'd pulled away there was less distance between us than before. "So tell me, O great dream king, what is it I want?"
The stars in his eyes were impossibly bright as they bore into my own. "To be worshiped."
"And what would a king... An Endless, know of worship?" I pressed tilting my chin up at him. He could kiss me with a simple tilt of his head if he wanted to, but we both knew Dream was far to much of a tease for that.
"I could show you." He said, his voice sending a thrum of power and want through me. "We both know that's something else you want."
I smiled at him. "I'm not admitting to that. You have a big enough ego as it is."
"Is that a challenge little Weaver?" He breathed as darkness swirled in his eyes.
"Perhaps,” I replied, “Later.”
We returned to our normal position as Hob returned. Dreams hand on my thigh squeezed tighter now. After the movie ended, Dream made an effort to assure his friend that he’d enjoyed himself, though Hob and I both knew the movie was not something he found fun. So, we’d all walked over to the Inn and Hob made everyone drinks. We sat at the table we had just a few days ago and talked. I could tell by the way they spoke to one another that Hob was relieved to have his friend back, and Dream felt the same way.
A hand clasped on my shoulder and the familiar scent of Pierres cigarettes wafted around me. He pulled up a chair and sat down with a grin. “There you are, Ma moitié.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded as the Hob and Dream sat up straighter in the presence of a stranger.
“There’s been a bit of trouble, I’m afraid.” He answered by taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing it at Dream.
“Trouble I’m assuming you’ve brought with you.”
He shrugged. “They would have found you either way.”
Tension pulled at the base of my spine. “How many?”
“I counted 5.”
“So more then?” I responded looking over my shoulder at the windows. “Which ones?”
Pierre tapped the ashes off his cigarette, not meeting my eyes. “Giselle and her lot.”
The pain that filled me was one I was far too familiar with. Giselle had been one of the first to betray me in return for the doctor's immortality. Though she wasn’t the one that had set fire to the Stewards home, she was the one that led them there. I clenched my fists. “Great.”
He pulled the box from his bag and slid it to me. “I think it’s time to let the beast out, Ma moitié.”
Hob was the one to speak first. “I can grab one of my pistols.”
“No,” Dream and I said at the exact same time. I looked at him and sighed. “Thank you, Hob, but this is my mess.”
At that Dream nearly scoffed. “You’ll have me sit here then?”
I glared at him. “Do you think I'm weak, Dream?”
“No, you know I don’t.” He answered.
Grasping his hand from over the table I smiled at him. “Then let me handle it. Please.”
With a tense stare he nodded. “Very well. However, should you get hurt I cannot promise to remain off to the side.”
“Fair enough.”
Pierre looked at Dream with a curious look. “Wait… Has he not seen your moves?”
“No, he hasn’t.” I replied looking at the wooden box.
“Oh, then sit back dear lover and enjoy the show!” He cheered as the bell on the front door chimed.
I opened the box, moving the red fabric off of the blades and sighed. So much for no bloodshed.
***
Dream was fuming as Penelope turned to face the group of people that had filed in the door. She should just let him handle this, she should have from the start. Holding her hands behind her, she kept them close to the blades. “Giselle, been a long time.”
The woman at the back lifted herself up onto the bar, something Hob had quietly complained at. “Pen, good to see you. Pierre, not so good to see you.”
The Frenchman laughed. “I’ll take it as a compliment coming from such a frigid bitch.”
Penelope cut through the pleasantries. “We don’t have to do this. You could still walk away.”
The woman laughed. “We’re past that, Pen. Elias isn’t fucking around this time.”
“Things are that bad then?”
The woman jumped down and moved into the light, revealing the face of an old crone. “The best of us are rotting away.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “He must be pretty upset about that.”
Giselle scoffed. “Enough. Just come with us, make this easy.”
“I don’t think so.”
The woman's eyes slid to Dream and she smiled. “Is that the sandman from old Roderick’s basement?”
Penelope’s hands wrapped around the daggers, steel singing. He watched the blades glisten with what looked like fire, the red gems in the hilts glowing softly. Destruction. Dream felt his brother's power wash over him, but before he could fully allow himself to recognize what it meant Penelope spoke again, her voice darker. “Leave him out of this.”
“Maybe we will go and let Elias know that you’re getting the higher powers involved in our business.” She sounded far too smug. “We’ll trap him right back in that glass cage of his.”
“You sure this is how you want to end this?”
“Don’t sound so confident, Pen. You’ve been out of the game for years.” Giselle shook her head. “You won’t be enough to beat us all.”
Penelope’s anxiety that had slowly been building vanished. As Dream looked at her straight back and relaxed shoulders all he could feel from her was an unnerving calm. She said nothing as the first two men, tall and well built, moved forward towards her. She said nothing when they’d gotten far too close for his comfort. And she’d made no sound as her blades vanished from behind her back, embedding deep into their throats as she tossed them back onto the floor, the fire inside the steel burning brighter as their blood dripped off it.
As he watched her rage through the crowd of enemies, the glint of her blade the only thing that could be seen as she moved with speed and ferocity, he saw his brother for a moment. The way she moved, the way she twirled the knives in her hands and struck quickly, all was reminiscent of him. He'd been wrong to write her off as not a warrior, he saw that now. As Penelope stood, covered in the blood of her enemies staring down Giselle, Dream saw her as she was. His queen. A warrior in every sense of the word, and above all else his equal.
Giselle smiled. “You never fail to impress.”
Still she said nothing as Giselle leapt forward, swinging a golden ax down toward Penelope’s head. She stepped to the side, and slashed Giselle's shoulder with her blade. The woman growled, moving with a quickness that did not suit her appearance. Her ax sliced through Penelope’s thigh and he stood. She moved back a bit, holding her hand out to keep him from moving. “I’ve got this.”
His body ached with the effort it took to keep from intervening. Giselle made a few good moves, but nothing that matched the pure power of Penelope. When the first dagger stuck into her side he knew it was over, so did Giselle. She swung her ax again, a strangled cry leaving her as Penelope’s dagger sliced through the underside of her arm. Giselle collapsed onto the floor with retching breaths. Penelope stood over her, one dagger still in her hand. Giselle smiled up at her and spat at her feet. “Finish it then.”
Kneeling down Penelope finally spoke. “I hope you find some manner of peace in whatever afterlife is waiting for you.”
The blade sliced her skin and Giselle choked on a few blood filled breaths until silence filled the Inn. Even in battle his queen was merciful. She retrieved her blades and turned, walking back to the table. Everyone was silent, even the frenchman as she cleaned them and put them back into the box.
Her hands were shaking, but before he could reach over to console her, the frenchman had done it. “You know what I’m going to say, no?”
“What you always do.”
“You did what you had to.” He spoke, his eyes looking up at her like she was a goddess. “Ma moitié, you did good.”
Movement in the background put his hair on end. The Frenchman spotted it too, turning with a French curse leaving his lips. Hob stood, backing away a little. “What in God's name is that?”
Penelope turned and every inch of her froze as she looked down at Giselle’s body, twisting and curling in on itself moving until it stood before them again. Pale eyes stared at her as the gnarled hand fumbled for something in Giselle’s pocket. Dream prepared himself to move, but it was a softly ringing phone that was pulled out and answered.
“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow,” an old faintly familiar voice filled the room. Penelope’s stillness twisted into absolute terror and she moved to step back, trying to flee the voice, running into the table. “It has been far too long, my dear.”
Chapter 9: A Past As Beautiful and Destructive As Me
TW: the fates, knives, dirty thoughts, smut (Soft Dream is here)
I curled deeper into the warm covers, breathing out a sigh of relief at the heat that rolled off of them. That breath was one I could feel hanging in the frozen air, the heat of it visible in the cold as I blinked my eyes open. Everything was frozen. My pillows, the empty space of bed beside me, the windows and curtains, my chair. All of it. As I sat up, the chill filling the warm space I'd left, three figures stood in front of my bedroom door.
The first, standing closest to me, was a young woman in a beautiful sapphire blue gown, her dark hair curled in ringlets around her soft face. "Greetings, fate kept sister."
In a blink she was standing in the back and one of the others was now standing in front of me. She was older, her face slightly worn by the years. Her hair and eyes remained the same as the younger ones. "It is so good to finally put a face to that lovely name of yours, dear Weaver."
Another blink and the oldest of them stood before me, eyes cold and face wrinkled with age and wisdom. Her silver hair wrapped around her like a shroud. "She doesn't look like much, you'd think with the power in those veins she'd have a bit of spark to her."
I wanted to speak, wanted to demand what the hell was happening, but I couldn't. Like the room around me I was frozen in place, clinging to what little warmth remained. The youngest smiled at me. "I think she looks perfect!"
The oldest sneered. "Fate kept, fate kissed, fate bound. Your titles are as endless as that which you would so easily spread your legs for."
The middle one tutted. "Now, now sister-self, we cannot chastise her for answering the song she was gifted. That even remains higher than us."
"Such a sweet song they make together!" The youngest said. "I hope it does not give way to the dissonant cries that threaten to swallow it."
"A butterfly can do little against the storm to come," the eldest remarked.
"She will have to become a dragon then," the youngest replied. "Fire and armor born to weather any storm."
"The question remains if she will heed her calling or if she will bend and break and burn beneath the threads." The middle said.
"Heed our advice, fate touched, do not hesitate to reach out to the cold. For in the frozen depth much truth lies." The youngest said.
The middle reappeared. "Heed our warning, fate kissed, do not bend to those unworthy. It is their stained hands that seek to tear your wings from your back and watch you crawl and wither."
The oldest glared at me. "Heed our truth, fate bound, forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom."
A loud crack of shattering ice echoed in my ears, my hands cupping around them as I tried to block out the sound. When I looked back up they were gone. A faint feeling, like a hand wrapping around my arm pulled me from the frozen world. My hand found the knife beneath my pillow and my body moved of its own accord, the world swinging as I threw myself over the top of whoever had touched me and pressed the blade snuggly against their throat.
Below me Pierres eyes were glowing, his hands resting tightly on my hips. "It is good to be back beneath these powerful thighs, Ma moitié."
Breathing heavily I looked around the room, pulling the blade from his throat. It was just as I left it. My head snapped to the bed, now empty save for a single peony that lay on the pillow beside mine. Dream. I looked back to Pierre who looked me over with his heated gaze and winked. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I was attempting to wake the sleeping beauty, but in our time apart it appears I've forgotten that she has quite the bite when startled." He smiled even wider. "Though I will never complain about our current position."
"How did you get in?" I asked standing up and helping him off the floor.
"The witch," he replied. "Though we both know if I had truly wanted in I'd have found a way." He leaned slightly to check out my ass in the shorts I'd slept in. "The years have treated you kindly."
I slapped his arm. "Eyes up."
He complied with a sly grin. "Oh I've seen it all before, no need to be so prude about it."
"That was a long time ago," I said, forcing his chin upward as he started looking back.
"Ahh so my other half has found herself a new lover!" He teased flopping onto the bed and twirling the peony in his fingers. "A thoughtful one is he?"
I snatched it out of his hand and carefully set it on my nightstand. "As much as I'd love to talk to you about my sex life you have work to do."
He relaxed into my bed. "It is already done."
"You cleaned up three bodies and all that blood already?"
"You say this like it is difficult," he replied, offended. "Have the years made you forget my talents for such things?"
"No."
"Stop worrying, Ma moitié, come lay down with me and relax for a moment."
With a sigh I flopped down onto the bed beside him. He pressed a kiss to my cheek. "It's good to see you Pierre."
"Of course it is, I am spectacular!" He cheered, turning to face me. "Now, tell me of this tall dark stranger the witch claims to have caught fingers deep inside you."
I groaned. "JOHANNA CONSTANTINE!"
***
Dream had watched Penelope sleep until the sun began to rise before he was forced to leave. He hated having to go, hated that she would wake up alone, but his realm needed his attention now. So he'd placed the peony beside her, hoping it would soothe her if she woke up worried about his absence. As he stood in the corner by her door he turned to the raven that had accompanied them. "Stay with her, Matthew. If trouble comes for her again I will not be caught off guard."
And trouble indeed did come, but a kind that Dream had not been prepared for. His jaw was firmly locked in place as he watched the interaction through Matthews eyes. At first he was relieved, proud, to watch her take the man to the ground with ease, a blade to his throat, but then when she retracted it and helped him up his relief twisted into something else. Something green.
When the stranger had not even attempted to hide his blatant lingering gaze on her body Dream felt the green feeling twist inside him. When he leapt onto her bed and grabbed the flower he'd left for her, he nearly lost all his self control and when she joined him in the bed his hands curled into the arms of his throne and the room around him gently quaked.
Penelope was obviously familiar with this man, too familiar for his liking. But as he watched them he felt no flare of arousal or any feelings from her that indicated this was anything more than a friend. Even without the mark he trusted her, but that didn't stop the bitter taste that filled his throat at the sight of them. He let his connection drop, let his eyes refocus on the throne room.
His thoughts were a rampant storm in his mind. She may not have felt anything for her friend, but seeing her so close with another man brought a possessive need within him. He was not unfamiliar with this, he’d had many lovers in the past and had felt the need before, but with Penelope it was different. It was so strong Morpheus had to consciously remind himself he could not just show up in her room and trap this friend of hers in a never ending nightmare. It was more than that though, more than mere possessive jealousy that made him retreat inward.
She was happy. She had been before he showed up in the apartment she shared with Constantine. In all the years he spent locked in that cage he thought of her often, mourned her. He was not prepared to find her alive, healthy and happy in the Waking World. Before Hell, he’d been determined to retrieve his tools, answer her questions and then let her finally be rid of him. Then he saw the torture she’d endured… felt the softness of her lips on his… had her gasping and moaning against him. He did not want to leave her, he did not think he could survive it now, but he worried what him staying would cost her.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed air - he needed to think. He needed to see her.
***
Pierre finally climbed out of the bed after he was satisfied he was caught up in my sex life since our departure, and grabbed a long box from the chair. “I know the last time we spoke, you told me you did not want these, but… Given the recent events I brought them with me just in case.”
At the sight of it I clammed up. It had been years since I’d given them to him… and as he opened the lid, holding it out for me to see the gleaming steel blades within it an old pain filled my chest. I took one of them in my hand, the familiar weight of it digging up a wave of bittersweet emotions. As I looked into the reflection in the blade it was his eyes that stared back at me. Olethros. The pain was one of great friendship and a sorrowful betrayal.
"I know it's not ladylike… but you really need to learn how to throw a proper punch Miss…"
"Barlow. Penelope Barlow."
"Well, Miss Barlow, are you alright?"
"Better now that I've stumbled onto a knight."
His laugh was deep and heartfelt. "Never been called a knight before, I could get used to it."
"Well, what name does my knight normally go by?"
"I've got a lot of names, Miss. You can call me Olethros."
"Olethros, I'm glad to have run into you."
"As am I, Penelope."
I quickly set it back in the box and closed the lid. “Thank you, Pierre. Could you just… just hold onto them a while longer for me?”
His eyes held the understanding that made Pierre one of my closest friends. He nodded, holding the box with tender care. “Of course, mon amour. Now, get dressed and join the witch and I for breakfast, yes?”
“Of course,” I answered watching him settle into my chair with a shit eating grin on his face. “Get out you sly bastard.”
“Very well,” he said with an exasperated sigh, moving toward the door. “But, if your new lover disappoints, perhaps we will reconnect in a different way?”
I rolled my eyes. “You and Johanna are the worst with boundaries!”
He laughed as he closed the door with one final shout of, “That was not a no!”
“NO!” I hollered, sitting on the bed and grabbing the flower Dream had left for me with a smile.
Pierre had been the person I trusted most in this world before Johanna and now Dream. He had been by my side in my darkest moments and had seen me through it all with kindness, patience and laughter. He was perhaps the most annoying person I'd ever met, but single handedly the most loyal and loving individual. I knew he wouldn't betray me, no matter how we left things or how long it'd been since we spoke through the years. Pierre would never betray me, would never do anything to cause me harm, would never abandon me.
It was nice to have him around again, nice in a mostly annoying way, but with him he brought a lot of messy history. I had no doubts that Dream had his own unpleasant moments in his past and I truly didn’t think he would care about some of mine, but I still felt nervous, still felt ashamed. What if the things I’d done made him see me differently? What if upon learning of the years I’d spent without him was just too much? Nothing could ever change the way I see you. He’d said those words, not long ago. He’d said them and meant them with everything he was. I set the flower back on my nightstand and smiled. Dream wouldn’t scare so easily.
A soft noise echoed from the top of the curtain rods and startled me. “Would now be a good time to tell you I’m here?”
Matthew perched above me, awkwardly. “Oh my god Matthew! How long have you been here?”
“Since the sun came up,” he said. “Dream had me stick around just in case there was any trouble. You know so he could come help and all that.”
I sighed, letting the tension release from my shoulders. “I should have known he’d leave you behind. I’m sorry you’re stuck on babysitting duty.”
"I don't mind!" He insisted, flying down to rest on the bed. "It'll be fun."
"Will it be?" I asked.
"Yeah! We can get pizza or go to the movies," the raven sounded very excited at the prospect of a normal day.
"Missing life as a human Matthew?"
"Just a little," he said. "Being a bird is great and all and I enjoy The Dreaming and everyone there it's just…"
"A lot of change in a small span of time. I get it." I finished for him. “I’m not sure what the day has planned, but I’ve got to warn you it might not be the typical human outting you're wanting."
His head cocked to the side a bit. "Yeah, I doubt most humans deal with constant threats of being attacked." Clearing his throat he hopped towards me a bit. "Speaking of… You don't have to tell me, but, uh, I am curious about what exactly you've got going on."
I smiled tensely at him. "You remember Hell? Those, uh, memories you saw?"
"Yeah," he admitted softly. "Those are kind of hard to forget."
"The doctor from the asylum is the head of the sixty, hell, it might be seventy now, year long hunt I've been avoiding."
"The doctor?" He questioned. "Shouldn't he be, I don't know, dead?"
I picked at my fingers. "Yeah, he should be. But those… The, uh… The procedures he did on me… They gave him enough biological material to create a prototype of his weird eternal life elixir or drug or whatever. He took it and used the extra time it gave him to link up with the cult assholes that trapped Dream with Roderick Burgess. They mixed their weird magic and his mad science to make a better version of the prototype. He and his closest confidants took it and have been using it to keep them alive."
"So these assholes don't die?"
"They do. Their new elixir only preserves their life… Their minds I guess. Their bodies still age and decay just at a slower rate than normal." I sighed. "He's running low on my material now though, he has been for the past tenish years."
Beside me Matthew cawed. "That's why they're coming at you so hard."
"Yeah," I whispered. "If they can manage to catch me, it'll be the end this time. He'll take every last bit of me and…" I shook my head. "But that's not going to happen."
"Yeah, I mean you've got Dream now." Matthew said. "He'll take care of it."
"No." I couldn't even think of what the worst bad outcome would look like. "He's going to stay out of it. If they think he's a threat they'll just find a way to trap him again, or worse. He needs to keep himself and The Dreaming safe."
Matthew looked up at me. "Does he know that?"
"No," I breathed out, trying to keep myself calm. "No he doesn't. But… He'll understand."
A chuckle and another caw. "I think we both know it's not gonna be that easy. This is Dream we're talking about."
I laughed. "Yeah, he's kind of an ass."
“He’s much better around you,” Matthew stated calmly.
Smiling down at the raven I shrugged. “I don’t think he can really help it. He can’t exactly hide things from me, not for long at least.”
“Well, whatever thing you two have got going on I’m happy for you. The boss needs someone like you around.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone that will call him out on things,” he clarified. “Someone that’s not afraid to tell him he's wrong.”
Well, that was certainly something I could do. “Okay, shield your bird eyes dear Matthew while I get dressed for our human outting.”
He flew to the corner of the room, pushing his tiny head through the curtains and observing the street down below as I threw on the thinnest turtleneck I could find, adjusting it so the nearly faded bruising wasn’t visible before securing Jessamys’ feathers back around my neck and pulling on a light long skirt. I was covered head to toe, so any cuts or bruises I hadn’t noticed or hadn't healed yet would stay covered and not draw anymore unwanted attention my way. I set a magazine up for Matthew as I washed my face and did my hair. Listening to the bird comment on movie stars was one of the most amusing things I’d heard in a while. “You should start a podcast.”
He laughed. “A raven with a podcast, that would be hilarious!”
Once I’d gotten on a comfortable pair of shoes he flew to my shoulder and perched on me as I left my room to greet Johanna and Pierre who sat on complete opposite sides of the sofa, leaning away from each other. “Wow, don’t look too comfortable you two, someone might think you like each other.”
Johanna flipped me off. “Fuck you.”
“I would never!” Pierre said at the exact time.
“Breakfast,” I said. “Who's buying?”
Pierre’s eyes were glued to Matthew. “Are we not going to address the bird?”
Johanna smiled. “Nope. Don’t you say a word to him.”
“This is Matthew.”
Pierre's face grew even more confused. “The bird has a name?”
From my shoulder Matthew bristled and let out a caw. “Yes, he has a name and you’re not making a very good first impression.”
“When do I ever, mon amour?” He asked with a wide grin.
“Point taken, now let's go, I'm starving.”
Johanna pulled on her jacket. “Yeah, you haven’t had a real meal since Hell.”
I felt somewhat bad for Pierre as he looked between us with absolute confusion. “What has happened in my absence?”
The four of us walked to a nearby cafe and Pierre and I grabbed a table outside while Johanna went in and got our breakfast sorted. He’d pulled his chair right next to mine and leaned into me the whole time, something Pierre never grew tired of was physical attention. Matthew had perched on the opposite side of the table, beady black eyes boring into the French man beside me. Pierre stared at him for a while before turning to me to ask, “It cannot kill me, can it?”
Shrugging my shoulders I smiled at Matthew. “No clue, that's why you need to be nice.”
It was only when Johanna returned either coffee and plates of food that we got back to the situation at hand. They were back in London and if last night was anything they knew I was here too. Pierre spoke first, "So, no running this time eh?"
"No," I said, picking at the food in front of me. "Not this time."
"Why now?"
There were so many answers. I'm tired of losing the ones close to me. I'm tired of letting them push me around. But one that held the most truth. "I'm tired."
This made Pierre wrap his arm around me and squeeze my shoulder. "Finally. I have been waiting for you to turn loose the dogs of war!"
Johanna rolled her eyes. "We need to be smart about this. These cunts have people and resources, we can't take them in an all out fight."
"We have her," Pierre insisted. "No one is better in a fight than our Penelope!"
I looked down at the table, my mind drifting back to the hulking mass of red hair from all those years ago. "Fighting isn't just about numbers or strength, Inky. You have to slow down, think through the moves before you act."
I'd watched him attempt to bend the paper into the shape of my butterfly for almost an hour as we talked, still to no avail. "I've thought out the moves, Olethros. I can't win if I don't know how to actually fight."
"God damn paper," he muttered, tossing the paper into the pile with all the others. He sighed. "Why are you asking me this now?"
"You're the one that said I needed to know how to throw a proper punch!" I replied, reaching over to help guide his fingers. "I'm not asking you this lightly. I know how seriously you take fighting."
"Fighting almost always leads to death and destruction. Are you prepared for that?"
I shook my head. "No, but I don't have a choice. I have to do something, Olethros. I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't."
I pulled my hands away from his and looked down at the disfigured butterfly. He let it fall onto the desk. "Don't think I'll ever be able to make one like yours."
With a gentle tug I pulled the paper butterfly off of where it hung on my necklace. I stroked over the soft worn paper, smiling at the memories of the friend that had given it to me, before holding it out to him. "You take it. Until you make one of your own."
"Inky…"
I set it in his palm. "Consider it payment for teaching me how to fight?"
His rich eyes bored into mine, fingers curling around my own. "Fine. But just some basic moves. You're no killer, Penelope Barlow. I just want to keep it that way."
Pierre nudged me, hand squeezing my shoulder. "You drifted off, Ma moitié. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I answered, straightening up in my chair. "Yeah I'm fine. What were we saying?"
Johanna watched me carefully. "Pierre and I were arguing over strategy."
"Once she picks up those blades of hers we won't need your strategy!" Pierre replied.
I shook my head. "I'm not picking up the knives. Johanna is right we need to be smart about this."
He sighed. "But-"
"I don't want to lose anyone else, Pierre." I looked up at him with watery eyes. "I can't."
Cursing in French he pressed a soft, quick kiss to my lips and hugged me. "Alright, mon amour. We'll do it your way."
"Thank you."
Matthews wings flared out as he cawed, eyes focused behind us. I turned, looking over Pierres shoulder at Morpheus as he stood across the street. Smiling at him I looked at Johanna. "Are you guys good or do we have more to talk about?"
She glanced at Dream and smirked. "No, we're good. Come on Frenchie, let's go hit up a few contacts."
Pierre followed our eyes and grinned. "Is that the new lover? He is handsome."
"Very," I agreed, shoving against his chest. "Now get out of here.
He pressed one last kiss to my lips, longer than the first one, trying to get a rise out of Dream. And, if the way the shadows seemed to move over him meant anything he'd succeeded. I shoved again, slapping the back of his head, but he only smiled at me. "I have to make a good impression, no?"
"Fuck off." I laughed as he slid out of his seat, glancing at Dream as he walked away with Johanna.
Dream stayed still for a minute before he moved to join Matthew and I at the table. "Good morning," I said happily.
"Good morning." His tone held no indication of, well, anything.
I tiled my head, watching him take a piece of bread from the table and hold it. "How are repairs in The Dreaming coming along?"
"Well," he said. "I should be regaining most of my lost subjects soon."
"That's good," I said. He was off, but I couldn't quite tell why. A familiar feeling rose up in my chest, along with the sound of the raging ocean waves hitting thick wood. I shoved it down, watching Matthew peck at a plate of food, not able to get it all. I reached over, grabbing the plate and starting to cut up the food into smaller pieces.
His eyes looked down the road, where Pierre and Johanna had gone. "Was he a friend of yours? Or an old lover?"
"Both? Neither?" I chuckled. "He's my friend. We slept together a few times, but it was mostly out of convenience. I trusted him, he trusted me, we didn't have to think about potential dangers or something going wrong. We didn't have to think."
Dream nodded. "Does he know this?"
"He was there for me during a difficult time. And when he was offered an obscene amount of money to trick me he refused." I met Dreams' eyes and sighed. "I know he's a lot, but Pierre is one of the few people that didn't betray me."
"I understand," he said. "If you trust him..."
"I do trust him."
"And I trust you." He said simply. "So long as he keeps his mouth to himself you'll not hear any complaints from me."
"Your mouth is the only one I want, Dream Lord." I insisted with a wide grin.
Nothing. No smile, no teasing, just the same blank expression. After a few minutes of silence he spoke calmly, "I'm assuming there were no other attacks in my absence."
"No," I replied, bracing myself for this part of the conversation.
A nod. "Good, it won't take too long finding the individuals behind this."
"About that," I said nervously. Taking a deep breath I met his cold gaze. "I don't want you to get involved."
A flash of annoyance and anger filled him, curling around me. "What?"
"It's just…" I sighed. "These people are dangerous, Dream-"
"All the more reason for me to deal with it."
"They're well organized and well versed in both magic and science. If they find out you're involved in any way they will trap you," I said, watching his eyes flare with memories of his cage. "I'm not going to risk that happening, not ever again."
His jaw clenched. "I will be discreet."
"No." I could see the understanding fill his eyes as my aching worry reached out to him. "I have lost far too many people to this crazy cult mad scientist bullshit. I am not willing to risk losing you too."
"Penelope-"
"Promise me, Morpheus." I bit back a sob. "Promise me you'll let me handle it. Please."
He nodded, every inch of him rigid and tense. "Very well."
"Thank you."
Dream watched as I held the now smaller bits of food out to Matthew, who took it almost too eagerly. "You shouldn't indulge him."
"Oh leave him be," I said, the tenseness slowly dissolving. "He was human once, it's only fair that he gets some treats."
"If he gets too fat to fly back to The Dreaming it'll be on your head then."
I laughed. "If your magic ravens get fat from a few pieces of biscuit then that's just poor execution on your part."
Matthew ignored us both in favor of the food, but made quiet content noises from beside me. Dream continued looking around with his lips pouted. I could sense the emotions he was feeling, but couldn’t identify them. It was like a glass wall separated them from me, and looking at him I could just tell he was doing it on purpose. To keep me from being forced to feel them perhaps? Or to keep him from having to open up to me about what was wrong. Of the two the second seemed far more Dream.
I nudged his leg with my foot, bringing his emotionless eyes and face back to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Dream…” I began. “I can feel something is off with you. Something you’re keeping from me.”
He sighed. “It is not important, Penelope.”
“I don’t care, I still want to-”
“Please.” He said, a flash of tenderness filling his eyes for a moment. “I do not wish to burden you with trivial things.”
With a sigh I handed Matthew the last piece. “Okay, but I want you to know that I’m here. No matter what it is, or how trivial it may seem, I’m here.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, sounding almost pained by the kindness of my words.
I didn’t push it further. Dream was stubborn and if he really didn’t want to talk to me, he wouldn’t. Trying to pry more out of him would only result in a fight, and after eighty years apart I did not want to spend our newfound time together fighting over little things.
After paying for the food we began walking once again. In one hand he held his bread and the other hand was stuffed in his pocket. I missed the feel of his arm wrapped around mine, but respected his space. I knew that it wasn’t something he did to appear cold or to purposefully hurt my feelings. Even in his sour mood I didn't think he'd act cruelly. He was a private person, that was all.
I followed him to a nearby park where he took a seat on a park bench and slowly began picking away at the loaf of bread, tossing the pieces to the pigeons. This was odd. Dream of the Endless was not the type to sit in a park and feed pigeons. I looked at him and just as I was about to ask what he was doing his hand snapped up, catching a rogue ball as it came hurtling towards my face. The young man that came to retrieve it apologized and complemented Dream’s catch before turning and going back to his game. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
His eyes gave me a once over and then the silence returned. That feeling began to aw its way back up just as I spotted the black boots approaching us. Everything was washed away with the warmth of her. With a bright smile I leapt up and threw my arms around her. “Death!”
She returned my embrace with an even tighter one. “It’s so good to see you, Penelope.” She pulled away, fixing my hair and looking at me with the warm loving gaze I hadn't seen in years. “You look good, how are you doing?”
The last time I saw her was the night I nearly died. I’d almost begged her to take me then, and she’d been the one to assure me that there was still so much for me to live for. I smiled even wider, ignoring the tears that started to fill my eyes. “Better.”
“Good.” She said looking down at Dream, her face contorting into confusion. “What’s he doing?”
I shrugged. “No clue, he’s in a mood.”
“I’ll talk to him,” she assured. “Why don’t you go do something fun?”
He looked up at us now as the words of his sister registered, but before he could speak I held up my hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay within your line of sight.”
Dreams' jaw was tense as he nodded. “Thank you.”
Death gave me a look, but I waved her off, walking over to a nearby tree and plopping down. The two of them had a lot to talk about, and if anyone was going to get Dream out of his mood it was her. Matthew joined me shortly, nodding to the small hot dog cart off to the side. “Hungry?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, but I’ll get one for you.”
“You’re the best Penny!”
***
Death sat down beside him with a sigh, watching him closely. “What are you doin’?”
“I’m feeding the pigeons.” It was a simple answer, one that Dream knew would not keep her from digging up what was truly on his mind. His older sister was wise and had a talent for getting the truth out of people.
“‘You do that too much, you know what you get?’” She asked with a grin. “‘Fat pigeons.’” When he didn’t react she laughed quietly to herself. “That’s from Mary Poppins. Did you ever see it?”
“No.”
She watched a child run through the group of birds that had gathered in front of them, her joy among the humans was something he found odd, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he envied her. She saw them, truly saw them, for all that they were and she loved them. “Okay, so what’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell something’s wrong. I mean look at you. Sittin’ here, moping, pigeon-feeding. It’s not like you.”
He sighed. “No. Perhaps it isn’t. I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re right. Something is the matter.” He paused as she got comfortable on the bench beside him. “When they captured me, I just had one thought. Vengeance. And then…” His eyes found Penelope, mind racing with all the memories of her being chained and beaten in front of him. Death seemed to understand. “Then it wasn’t just about me, and my hunger for that vengeance grew.” With another sigh he shook his head. “It wasn’t as satisfying as I’d expected. Meanwhile, my kingdom had fallen apart. My tools long since stolen and scattered. And so I embarked upon a journey to find them. Which I did, along with the girl I’d spent eighty years mourning. She’s here, healthy and happy and I’m more powerful than I have been in eons. And yet…”
“Here you are feeding the pigeons.” She finished for him, gently clapping her hands together.
“You see, until then, I’d had a true quest. A purpose beyond my function and then suddenly, it was over, and…” He made a face. “I felt disappointed. Let down. Empty. Does that make sense? I was so sure that once I got everything back, I’d feel good… that I’d be able to let her go and move on. But in some ways I feel worse than when I started. I feel like… Nothing.” He tore his eyes away from Penelope. “You asked.”
Death put a comforting hand on top of his knee and smiled at him. “You could have called me, you know.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
She rolled her eyes and stood quickly. “Oh, I don’t believe it. Let me tell you something, Dream.” Taking the bread out of his hands she pointed it at him accusingly. “And I’m only gonna say this once, so you better pay attention. You are utterly the stupidest, most self-centered, pathetic excuse for an anthropomorphic personification on this or any other plane. Feeling sorry for yourself because your little game is over and you haven’t got the balls to go out and find a new one.” Her bread wielding hand gestured over to Penelope. An obvious message. “You’re as bad as Desire. No worse.” She threw the bread at him with an exasperated sigh. “Did it never occur to you that I would be worried about you?”
“I didn’t think-”
“Exactly! You didn’t think.”
The white ball flew through the air toward the back of Death's head. She whirled around and caught it right before it could connect and with a sigh she handed it back to its owner. “Wow. You’re as good as you… friend there.”
Looking back at him she shrugged. “He’s not my friend. He’s my brother. And he’s an idiot.”
He returned to his curled up position, tossing more crumbs down into the grass. “I’m just feeding the birds.”
“Look, I can’t stay here all day. I’ve got work to do. You can come with me if you want, or you can stay here and sulk.”
His eyes flickered back to Penelope. “What about her?”
“Is she not allowed to be alone all of a sudden?” Death joked.
“There are people after her,” he said, watching his sister's face grow more concerned as she looked over at Penelope. “I do not want to be far, just in case…”
“She can come with, if she’s comfortable with that. She's good for you, by the way," Death said with a smirk.
Penelope sat under the shade of a large tree, tossing bits of hot dog up to Matthew who swooped down making attempts to catch them before they hit the ground. She'd made a sarcastic comment about his eyesight, resulting in Matthew dropping the hot dog into her hair. He made playful attempts to get it, pecking her head and tugging on her hair lightly. They chased each other around the tree, her laugh lighting up the whole park.
"What makes you say that?" he asked, though he didn’t really need an answer. It was obvious.
She pointed to him. "You get that look when you see her, even when you’re sulking."
"I don't have a look."
"You do. It's cute!"
"Dream!" Penelope shrieked, running over to him and ducked behind him so he was in between her and the raven. "Control your pigeon!"
"Pigeon?!" Matthew hollered. "Low blow!"
She peeked out from behind his shoulder and flipped the bird off. The two bickered with him between them, yet all he could do was smile. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his sister's knowing grin and immediately forced his lips down. "Settle down you two."
Finally the two relaxed and Penelope turned to his sister and asked her about work, as if it was nothing to her, speaking to Death. After a minute he realized she still hung onto his shoulders, using him as a perch, not unlike the raven she bickered with. "Is there a reason you're hanging off of me?"
"Not particularly, why am I weighing you down, mighty Dream Lord?” She teased in his ear.
"Not physically. Mentally you are quite the weight to carry." Though his tone hadn’t changed, Penelope caught onto his playful meaning instantly.
She gasped and groaned, slumping forward, now fully hanging off him, acting as if she’d been struck. "You wound me, my lord! Oh! I fear I’ll never recover!”
“I wish to accompany my sister for a while.” He said, looking at her from over his shoulder. “Will you join us?”
“I don’t want to impose,” she said, nervousness flaring in him.
Death smiled. “You won’t be. I’ll tell you when to stay put and we’ll be fine.”
“Alright then,” she replied, squeezing his shoulder and moving to stand beside him as he rose to follow his sister. She moved further in front of them and he immediately reached out to her. She gave him a comforting smile.
“You can stand with us,” he said.
“You two have a lot to talk about,” she insisted sweetly. “I don’t want to intrude.”
He let his hand return to his side. “Stay within my sight.”
“I know, I know.”
Dream watched her walk forward, Matthew perched on her shoulder, and he felt a piercing pang of guilt fill his gut. He’d told himself he would say goodbye to her and let her live the life she’d built without him. She was happy, the feel of it warmed him. His presence would only bring her trouble, but she was already in trouble. The white coats and the doctor were a thorn in his side, but the even bigger thorn was her. He recalled her words to him, her gentle plea that barred him from involving himself in the matter. If it’d been up to him he would have already hunted them all down and put an end to this. He could do it still. But what would that cost? Her?
“Look!” Death said sweetly, drawing his eyes from Penelope to the stand of fruits and vegetables. “Yum! Okay two please.”
“None for me, thank you.”
She looked back at him with that loving sisterly gaze he’d missed so much. “They’re good for you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You can just have it later,” she insisted with a shrug. When he didn’t budge she turned back to the vendor. “Just one, thanks.”
He watched the man clean the apple off and hand it to his sister with a warm smile. “There you go. It’s a gift.”
“Aw. Thank you! That’s so nice.” She turned, taking a large bite of the apple and then nodded to the vendor. “Mmm! That is delicious.”
“You are good with them,” he noted.
“Apples?”
“Humans.” His heart dropped when Penelope wasn’t where she had been. He took a long stride forward, Death's hand on his arm stopped him. She nodded to a small covered stall just a few steps ahead of them where Penelope knelt letting a child observe Matthew, who perched on her arm with his wings spread wide, clearly showing off. His heart slowed and he took a deep breath. She stood, urging Matthew to hop back onto her shoulder as the vendor, the child's father he assumed, handed her a bouquet of flowers. He listened to her whisper a soft thank you to them before glancing up to find him and Death before continuing onward, smelling the flowers as she walked.
Death watched him with her knowing eyes, practically beaming beside him at how obviously and pathetically enthralled he was with the human girl. She held the apple out to him, a smug smile on her face. “Bite?”
“No, thank you.” He replied.
“Hmm. Have you seen any of the others since you’ve been back?”
He shook his head, looking over at her. “Have you?”
“We did have one family dinner when you were away. The twins were in high spirits. Mmm, Desire was anyway.”
“With me gone, I have no doubt.”
“I don’t know. I think Desire missed having their usual sparring partner across the dinner table.”
“Any word of the prodigal?”
Death shook her head sadly. “No. Still missing. You were both missed.”
Dreams' eyes stayed locked onto Penelope as the crowd began to thin. She spoke to the raven beside her, not caring if anyone looked at her oddly, the joy he’d felt in her since this morning hadn’t dwindled at all, not even when she'd asked him to stay out of things. It was always there, buried in whatever else she was feeling. How does she do it? He questioned. She was being hunted like an animal at this very moment. Anyone else would have been terrified, paranoid at every noise or stranger, and yet she was here walking in front of him acting as if nothing was wrong. Death nudged his shoulder. “How are you sis? How have you been keeping? Aww. I’m well, Dream. Thanks for asking.”
He didn’t fight the smile this time, leaning into her and asking, “How are you, my sister? How have you been keeping?”
“I’m worried about my brother,” she answered honestly before perking up and holding out her nearly gone fruit. “And I’m enjoying this apple.”
Penelope’s sigh drew his eyes back to her. She swayed to the sound of the violin playing in the distance, twisting and twirling to the soft melody. He couldn’t help but stare at her, wondering how anyone could be so beautiful. Death pulled him to a stop, looking up at the building. “Can you hear it?”
“I know this piece,” he realized. “I haven’t heard it in two hundred years.”
“Come on,” she whispered, urging him to follow.
He looked back at Penelope. “Wait here. We won’t be long.”
She jumped up onto the stone wall and smiled. “We’ll be right here, Dream.”
***
I watched him follow Death into the yellow house where the violin had stopped playing and sighed, turning my face up to the sun. Matthew had hopped off my shoulder and settled beside me. “So, this isn’t exactly the human outting I was expecting. But it’s nice. Kind of relaxing, which is weird considering we’re walking with Death literally behind us.”
“She’s sweet,” I assured him, pulling a flower out of my bouquet and setting it on the stone beneath us. “Far more friendly than any of the others I’ve met so far.”
“Was Destiny a dick?” He asked with a chuckle. “Seems like he would be.”
“No,” I answered with a smile. “He was polite, but very cryptic.”
Matthew fluffed his feathers a little and watched the people walk past for a moment before asking, “Are you scared?”
“Scared?”
“Yeah, scared they’re gonna try and grab you at any minute?”
I looked around at the crowd of people and shook my head. “They’re not here.”
“How can you tell?”
Shrugging I watched the faces of smiling people pass and listened to the roar of their conversations. “They’ve been hunting me for eighty years. I’ve gotten pretty good at picking them out of crowds.”
He sighed. “I can’t even imagine what that's like.”
“It’s not all bad,” I said gently. “I just moved around a lot.”
“Yeah, and literally had people try to kidnap you more than once!”
“You get used to it after a while,” I answered. “It sounds sad, I know, but I did okay after a while. Lived as much as I could moving from town to town. I got to see the world, got to live in places I’d never even heard of.”
Matthew looked up at me. “You’re probably one of the most positive people I’ve ever met. It’s kind of annoying.”
***
As Death and Dream exited the house he felt relieved to find Penelope in the same place he’d left her, for once. Beside him Death smiled. “She’s lovely.”
“I do not deserve her.” It was honest, but he hadn’t meant for it to sound so hopeless.
“Maybe not. But she’s here all the same.” She said, “And from what little time I got with her it’s quite clear she’s not going to just let you disappear.”
He looked over at her, silently surprised that she’d read him that well. “I-”
“You're my brother, Dream. I know you. And I know you’re an idiot, big enough of one to think that abandoning that girl over there was a good idea.”
“She’s lost so much of her life already because of me.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve to lose anything else.”
“What do you think you’ll be doing if you leave her now?” Death asked. “Because the way I see it, you’ll be robbing her not only of any future with you but also her choice in deciding if that’s what she wants.”
Death said nothing else to him, she simply made her way to Penelope and helped her off the wall with a smile. They waited for him to join them, and then they continued on. His sister's words echoed in his mind as they walked across the bridge, leaving Matthew and Penelope behind them. He hadn’t thought of what he would be taking away from her by just removing himself from her life without say or warning.
From his side she said, “I thought he was sweet, didn’t you?”
He thought of the old man they’d just left. “Sweet? I don’t know. Perhaps. My sister," He’d meant to tell her earlier, but had forgotten in his haste to move. “When I was captured, it wasn’t me they were looking for. It was you.”
Death nodded, a sorrowful smile on her lips. “Yeah, I know.”
He felt the ball of pain in him as the unanswered question exploded. So they had known, had known and did not come to his aid. She used his shoulder to kneel down and take off her boots. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking my shoes off. You should take yours off too. It’s good to touch the Earth with your bare feet. It’s grounding.” She was so odd, in a way that made him wonder how they were related. Grounding? Why would he need grounding? “Come on, I don’t want to miss the next one.”
Looking back at Penelope as she looked out at the water, a look of something in her eyes as she turned to look at him. Before he could even think the thought she’d smiled and waved him off. “I know, Dream.”
She was insufferable.
***
The water moved and rippled beneath the bridge as I bent over the side to look down at it. Matthew watched me curiously. “So, rumor has it you threw a car off a bridge.”
“I did,” I admitted, resisting the curl of adrenaline that surged through me at the memory of the car falling and the water surrounding me.
“Why?”
“It seemed like my only option at the time,” I said, chuckling. “Though that might’ve been all the sedation drugs I was coming off of.”
Matthew cawed and said, “He’s different than he was when I first met him.”
“Dream?” I asked, looking down at him.
He gave me a tiny nod. “Yeah, he was all doom and gloom the first few times I interacted with him, I mean he’s still all doom and gloom the majority of the time, but, when he saw you it was different. It actually looked like he gave a shit about something, which was new considering his resting face looks like it does.”
I laughed, my heart fluttering at the thought, before the undeniable weight I felt in my gut returned. “He’s gonna try leaving.”
“What?” The raven demanded. “Why would he do that when he’s so obviously, I don’t know, in love with you?”
“I don’t know if he’s in love with me,” I argued. “Maybe it’s just this, just tension. Once we take that leap it’ll be gone and he’ll want to move on.”
Matthew laughed. “That’s not at all what this is and you know it.”
I focused back on the water. “I just don’t want to be blindsided again.”
“You’re not gonna get blindsided, Penny.” He assured me, tapping my arm with his beak in an attempt at a pat. “He’s not going anywhere.”
***
Dream watched the woman, the new wife of the man his sister had come for, cradle her husband's body in her arms and wail. He’d known that pain, he’d lived with that pain for eighty years. The only difference was that his grief and mourning had been put to an abrupt end by the woman he thought he lost. As he and Death returned to the bridge he felt an uneasy weight in his chest, a realization, as he looked at her. She had mourned him too. When they first reunited she’d told him that she tried to come back to the Burgess house to free him. It had been left unsaid, but obvious that this attempt was what led to her current troubles. Because of him. No. For him.
Penelope was a lot of things, but a victim of circumstance was not one of them. Everything she’d been forced to endure she did so with blood and fire. She could have bent under Rodericks thumb or under the doctor's blade, but instead she burned brighter and fought and raged until the chains that held her broke. She had not chosen to be stuck in the basement with him, to receive the mark that bound them, but she’d chosen every action that followed. And each time her choice was the same. Him. She chose him every day for years, most likely far longer than even he knew. He looked at her and felt her steady heartbeat in his chest, felt the swarm of joy and love that filled her as her eyes found him across the bridge. If he gave her a choice he knew what her answer would be and that scared him.
Death looked up at him and nudged him forward, and they reunited with the duo just as she’d finished pulling a flower from her bouquet and placing it on the bridge. He nodded towards it. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just felt like leaving a little piece behind.”
Death smiled and rubbed Penelope's shoulder. “That’s sweet.”
“Where to next?” She asked as Matthew settled back on her shoulder.
Death watched him with a curious gaze as he watched Penelope continue down the new street, not even batting an eye at what they were here for, not questioning any of it. “What?”
“How do you do it?” He questioned.
“Do what?”
“This. Be there, for her, for all of them.”
She shrugged modestly, as if what she did wasn’t that important. “I have a job to do. And I do it. When the first living thing existed, I was there. When the last living thing dies, I’ll put the chairs on the table, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave. And I’m not there for all of them, there are exceptions. Mad Hettie. Penelope. And then there's your ongoing project. How’s he faring up after all this time?”
“Who? Hob Gadling?” Dream sighed. He hadn’t thought of the man in a long while. “I don’t know. I was forced to miss our last appointment.”
“Well I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She said, “They’re never too keen to see me though.”
He looked at her softly. “Does it not bother you?”
“I actually used to think I had the hardest job in all our family.”
“Oh did you?”
“They fear the Sunless Lands, yet they enter your realm every night without fear.”
He smirked. “And yet I am far more terrible than you.”
She laughed for a moment before a nervous guilt passed over her features. “It was fine in the beginning. Dying and living were new things and people did them with the enthusiasm they always bring to new things. And then after a bit, it just got harder.”
“But you continued.”
“I thought about giving up. Walking out.” She walked into the house as he looked up the road at Penelope.
“Don’t wander,” He reminded her, noticing she’d gone further than he’d thought.
She turned back around and came walking towards him with a sarcastic salute. “Apologies, Dream Lord Sir!”
He rolled his eyes and followed his sister inside.
***
I sat on the steps of the house Death and Dream walked into a few minutes ago, pulling another flower from the bunch and setting it on the step beside me. “No more questions dear Matthew?”
“You’re kind of an open book to be honest,” he replied from his perch beside me. “Though I am curious as to what your theory is on your whole situation.”
“That’s a very loaded question.”
“Aren’t those the best kind?”
“I guess it depends on who you ask.” I retorted, avoiding the answer.
He looked at me expectantly. “Come on, you have to have some theories.”
Shrugging I sighed. “I mean I did a long time ago, or at least I thought I did, but eventually it all just molded into one very dark theory.”
“Let's hear it.”
“I’m cursed.” I finally said, looking away from him, anywhere else. “It’s kind of the only thing that explains everything. Anything I touch, anything that I get close to gets ripped from the world because of me. It’s why I never… Why no one…”
Matthew was quiet for a while before he said, softly, “I don’t think you’re cursed, Penny.”
“Thank you.”
***
Dream had watched his sister take the child with a heavy heart and thoughts filled with the memories of his own son's loss. He exited the house, Death close behind when they walked into Penelope and Matthews conversation.
“I’m cursed.” She said after what appeared to be a long moment of silence, looking out at the sky. “It’s kind of the only thing that explains everything. Anything I touch, anything that I get close to gets ripped from the world because of me. It’s why I never… Why no one…”
Dream felt her sorrow mingle with his own as Matthew softly replied, “I don’t think you’re cursed, Penny.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was strained, on the verge of tears as Death closed the door loudly.
She stood quickly, not even turning to look at them before she continued forward, moving out of their way. When they all stood together for a moment, to travel to Death’s next appointment she didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes on the ground in front of them, twisting her necklace between her fingers. How long had she thought this? He wondered. How long had she been waiting for him to abandon her as well because of some curse?
In the next location he watched Penelope more closely, watched her leave a flower in the room of the patient across from his sister. She made small talk, laughed alongside the stranger and bid them a gentle farewell when it was time to leave. Her sorrow had lessened when she rejoined them, walking closer and closer to them each time they moved now, but still out of reach.
"You were there that night. The night she should have..." He couldn't even bring himself to say it.
Beside him Death nodded. "Yeah, I was."
"What happened? Why didn't you take her?"
"Because she pulled herself out of that river and breathed." She said simply. "She was alive again."
"How..." He wanted, no needed, to know. "How did she feel about that?"
His sister met his gaze and smiled sadly. "She wanted to come with me. She was one of the first that ever has."
“Could she have?” he asked.
“No. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Will you take her eventually?”
Death shook her head as they walked down the alleyway. “I don’t think so. Something tells me she’s not meant for my lands, not for a long, long while at least.”
Dream looked at Penelope where she stood on the sidewalk by the street as his sister worked beside him. She left a flower on a small ledge of a nearby building with a smile. And when some loud drilling or construction work echoed from a few streets away she covered her ears with her hands, a wave of fear hitting her, and him, like a truck. But, just as he moved to go to her he felt her take deep breaths and heard the soft words that left her lips as she pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m here. I’m alive.” When they rejoined one another she’d calmed down, so much so he wouldn’t have even noticed what had happened if he hadn’t been looking.
In the field she waited on the path for them, leaving a flower on a nearby bench as she knelt down and played with a group of dogs as they and their owners passed through. She was so bright and full of life, even though only moments ago she was nearly curled in on herself with a residual fear. As they resumed their movements he could only focus on one thing. How resilient she was, had always been from the beginning. No one else would have survived, and they certainly wouldn’t be as she was, not as courageous, not as happy, not as alive.
“It’s funny, looking back now,” Death continued beside him. “I used to think I had to do this all by myself.”
“But you do.”
“No. At the end, I’m there with them. I’m holding their hand and they’re holding mine. I’m not alone when I’m doing my job. And neither are you. Think about it. The only reason we even exist, you and I, and Desire and Despair, the whole family. We’re here to serve them. It isn’t about quests or finding purpose outside our function. Our purpose is our function. We’re here for them. Since I figured that out, I realized I need them as much as they need me. I’ve seen so many cool things and people and worlds. I’ve learned so much. Lots of people don’t have a job they love doing, do they. So, I think I’m really lucky.”
She said it all with a passion he’d long since forgotten. Dream didn’t even truly remember the last time he enjoyed making his creations. “Listen, I’ve got to head back soon, but before I go I need to say this. That girl is in love with you, Dream. She has been from the start, she was the night I found her by that river. And if you leave her after everything you’ve both been through she will never forgive you. You’ll never forgive yourself and I certainly won’t forgive you. So, just this once, don’t be such an idiot.”
He stepped in front of her and held her hands. “You’ve taught me something I had forgotten. I thank you, my sister.”
She smiled. “Aw. That’s what family’s about, little brother.”
Penelope had stopped off to the side but quickly joined them when Death turned and opened her arms. She embraced her tightly and Dream watched her sink into the hug, soaking in the warmth of his sister's embrace. “Will I see you again?”
Death chuckled. “I don’t know when it comes to you.”
“Then I guess we’ll see,” Penelope replied fondly.
“Goodbye, Penelope. I might be seeing you.”
“Goodbye, Death. I might be seeing you too.”
***
As we walked through a small crowded alley Dream set his hand against my back and led me through the crowd of people. Once we reached a larger area he stood close beside me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine. "I'd like to introduce you to someone. A friend I need to reconnect with."
I opened my mouth in amused surprise. "Friend? That's a big word for you, Dream."
He rolled his eyes, lips twitching to fight the smile. "Will you come with me?"
"Of course," I said, falling into step beside him.
Looking up at him through my lashes I watched his eyes fill with that signature gloss of fondness. "I've not seen him in a long time, he may not be too happy with me."
“Oh?” I nudged him. "What'd you do?"
“What makes you think it was my doing?"
"Because I know you," I said laughing.
"I may have insisted I had no need for his friendship."
I hummed. "You know, you're kind of an ass, but I'm sure your friend will let it slide."
That soft smile finally graced his lips. "How very optimistic of you."
"Well one of us has to be."
Dream and I walked a ways before a familiar old tavern came into view. Beside me Dream looked sad, his eyes staring at the old building as if it had meant something more to him than I understood. I stayed quietly beside him, letting him work through the emotions I could feel bubbling against whatever barrier he'd kept between us, something I hated more and more with each passing minute. It felt wrong, not feeling what he did, even more so being able to feel something, but not all of it. Finally I said, "I came here once before it closed."
"You did?" He asked softly.
I nodded, leaning against him a bit. "Yeah, the place was an absolute shit hole, in the most endearing way of course."
"You should have seen it when Death first dragged me here." He chuckled a little. "They had livestock inside with the food and drinks. Absolutely abhorrent."
Looking up at him I smiled. "Don't lie, you loved it."
"I did not," he insisted. "But I suppose I did grow fond of it over the years. More so the friend I made here."
"Were you supposed to meet him here?"
"I was, a long time ago."
I pointed to the red graffiti. "Maybe he went to the new one?"
Dream sighed, turning and following the red that lined the fence. I didn’t need the bond to feel the nervousness rolling off of him. Did he and his friend leave things so horribly between them that he felt afraid they weren’t waiting for him? I leaned into him a little more, offering up a reassuring smile. Just around the corner, across a small section of tall grass was a beautiful brick building with white trim labeled The New Inn. Small tables with green umbrellas shielding them lined the patio as Dream and I entered.
Inside was decorated with old pale blue wallpaper and dark trim, blue curtains lined the large windows and antique looking tables lined the wall across from the bar. It was busy, but not so much that we couldn’t move through the space. I pulled away from Dreams' side. “Go look for your friend, I’ll hang out at the bar for a minute so you two can catch up.”
“You do not need to-”
“Go, Dream,” I prompted with a smile. “Unless you want me there for your grand apology.”
He nodded, moving through the space and around the corner, out of view. When he disappeared from my line of sight the ache slowly began to build again and I found myself worrying that if I followed he would be gone. God I was pathetic. If he was going to leave, why would he invite me to meet his friend with him? If he was going to leave, why would he still be around at all? I sighed, leaning against the bar counter, my eyes finding his black clad figure as he stood beside one of the tables, with his friend I assumed.
“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asked with a comforting smile.
I smiled back, recalling the man I’d met at the old tavern. “What’s the oldest whisky you have?”
***
Dream looked down at Hob Gadling with a smile, one Hob returned with a chuckle. “You’re late.”
“It seems I owe you an apology. I’ve always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting.” The man's smile widened and he nodded to the seat across from him, which Dream took with a lightened heart. He was so sure that Hob would be angry at him, yet the man simply seemed happy to see him.
The two spoke for a while about what Hob had been doing in Dream's absence, but then something at the bar caught his friend's eye and he smiled even wider. “How many more immortals do you have running around?”
“They’re not my immortals,” Dream said simply. He supposed now was as good a time as any to explain a few details to the man.
Hob nodded to the bar. “See that knockout of a woman over there?”
Dream turned, his eyes immediately finding Penelope sitting at the bar, making polite conversation with the man behind the counter as she swirled a glass of whatever drink she’d ordered. He turned back to Hob with wide eyes. “Do you know her?”
“I met her at the old tavern, waiting for you actually.” Hob said with a chuckle. “She has not aged a day! So, I assume she's one of yours then?”
He was surprised to say the least. First Penelope had met his sister, then his brother, potentially his mother and now she'd apparently met Hob Gadling. He looked back at her, just as she rose from her seat to come find him. The warmth of her smile almost made him miss the fear that was twisted in her gut. He wanted to inquire about it, but as her eyes slid to the man he sat with and her smile grew he had to push the thought away. She pointed to him, squinting a little. "Hob?"
He laughed, standing and embracing her. "Strange Penelope. I should've known you were one of his immortals."
"I should have known you were! You're so obvious about it with all those age jokes!"
Dream watched Hob take his seat, trying his best to ignore the way his eyes lingered on Penelope as she pulled a chair up beside him and sat down. She looked at him and nodded to Hob. "So, this degenerate is your friend?"
"Yes, yours as well it appears."
She shrugged. "I wouldn't say friends. We met once, drank a little and then I never saw him again."
Hob scoffed. "That's about the same thing he and I do every hundred years. I don't even know his name!"
Penelope turned to him with wide shocked eyes. "You haven't told him your name? How long have you been meeting?"
"A very long time."
"Are you serious?!"
Dream sighed. These two were going to be absolutely unbearable together.
***
My stranger, Hob, was my Dream Lords best friend. God it was funny. So funny I had to physically restrain myself from laughing multiple times as the two interacted. Dream told Hob his name and explained a few little details and I watched poor immortal Hob Gadling eat the words up with glee.
Once he'd had his fill of Dreams answers he turned to me and smiled. "So, how long have you been around?"
"A hundred years. Well a hundred and twelve years."
He smiled and shook his head. "You're just a newbie then, aren't you?"
"A hundred and twelve is hardly new!" I argued.
Hob shrugged. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
I tensed. "Why?"
"Well, as an immortal myself it's kind of a staple of the experience."
Trying not to think about just how many that actually was I nodded, my fingers curling into my glass. "Yes."
"How many?" He asked, leaning forward with a smile. Hob was curious, rightful so, I was the first immortal he'd met.
"A lot."
He hummed. "What was the first one? How'd you do it?"
"My father." I answered stiffly. "I tore his throat open with my teeth."
Hob made a face. "Well, I've never done that before."
"I don't recommend it," I took a drink of my whisky. "Takes weeks to get the taste out."
"Oh I can imagine!" He said. "Now, what's the worst way you should've died? Mines a tie between starvation, thrilling I know, and hanging! Interesting story that-"
My eyes were glued to the amber liquid in my glass as I thought about all the ways I should have died. There were so many… All under the pale eyes of that damn fucking doctor. Dreams hand wrapped around my thigh, his thumb drawing tiny circles into the skin. "You're here, with me."
I smiled at him, putting my hand on top of his, the memories fading away the more I looked into his eyes. Hob continued on describing his most noteworthy deaths, but he didn't ask me about it again. As the sun began to set Dream and Hob began reminiscing on the old days.
"Do you remember what the place looked like at the beginning?" Hob asked, laughing. "It was god awful!"
"Yes," Dream agreed. "I believe the livestock was partly to blame for that."
"Livestock," Hob shook his head looking around. "It's crazy how far humanity has come since then."
"How did the old tavern end up closing?" Dream wondered.
His friend shrugged. "Some people wanted to turn it into an apartment or something. Project fell through a little while after I found this place. I do miss it though."
"Why don't you two go back and look at the place?" I asked. "It's just around the corner."
Hob gave me an odd look. "It's locked up though."
"Hob Gadling, are you telling me you've never broken into a building before?" I laughed.
"I've never really needed to before," he mumbled.
Turning to Dream I said with a smirk. "I know for a fact you've broken into plenty of places. Fancy a walk down memory lane?"
He smiled a little. "I'm not opposed to the idea."
"Good! Because I want to hear all about you two idiots over the years!" I stood, nodding at the men to follow.
The gate was easy, so easy Dream hadn’t even gotten to offer his assistance before it slid open. The two looked around, pointing out things that had changed before we even stepped inside the musty space. Dust coated all the leftover furniture and the remaining sunlight that peaked in through the busted windows made the space feel even more like some far off memory. I stood at the bar, in the same spot I had been sitting the night Hob wandered over and smiled. What were the chances of us meeting? What were the odds of it being on the day he was waiting for the same Sandman that I, in one way or another, also waited on?
Hob settled in beside me, smirking at the fond memory. “Still the prettiest girl in the place.”
“It’s good to see your moves haven’t gotten any better,” I replied as Dream looked around the space.
“And what about your moves?” Hob asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Strange Penelope, what ever happened to the bloke you were getting hot and heavy with that night?"
I nearly choked and sent him a look, heat rising to my cheeks as Dream's gaze fell on me."You noticed that?"
"Oh I think everyone noticed that."
"Well, I wouldn't know what happened to him. I never saw him again."
"A one night stand, how scandalous!" Hob sang.
I groaned and shook my head. "No, we kissed a little and I left."
"Was he that bad?"
I shrugged, eyes gluing to the floor. "It wasn't him. I just... Couldn't get someone else out of my head."
When I looked up and met Dreams gaze it was dark and hot as pride and tingle of something else twisted between us. I took in his posture, the way his jaw had tensed, the way his hands had curled into themselves. Was he jealous? Before I could ask, Hob turned to him. “So, you’ve got some kind of… Magic, right?”
“I do,” he answered coolly. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was just thinking the best way to give Penelope a taste of what things were like in the old days would be, well, through some kind of magic.” He answered. “Can you turn back time or something?”
Dream scoffed. “I am not a magician Hob Gadling.”
“Well what can you do?” He inquired.
He looked at me for a long moment before nodding. “I can cast a simple illusion. It should suffice for your purposes.”
Hob nodded with a wide grin. “Alright then, let's give the girl a proper tour!”
Dream waved his hand and the room around us filled with smoke and livestock and people from long ago. I looked around at them, listened to the near incoherent conversations they had before turning and looking at Hob, who was now dressed head to toe in rags. Suppressing a laugh I nodded. “This was the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“Oh shut it,” he scolded. “This was what everyone wore back then. I get better!”
“When was this?””
“1389,” Dream replied from behind us.
When I turned to look at him I was taken aback at the sight. His hair was longer, brushing against his shoulders. The black tunic he wore had long intricate sleeves that flared away from his wrists in a dramatic fashion and his ruby hung around his neck. I nodded at him. “Not bad, Dream.”
“Oh come on he looks as ridiculous as I do!” Hob argued before he scoffed. “You know what just take us to the next year!”
Dream merely smirked as he waved his hand again, the illusion around us shifting. The smoke cleared and things had gotten a little cleaner. The people's clothes changed as they shifted through the space. Hob was still dressed poorly, but less so than he had been. His hair was cut shorter and combed through and his brown attire looked at least somewhat cleaner and finer made. I pointed to his hair. “At least you improved a little.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, let's all make fun of the dirty little peasant!”
My eyes slid over to Dream. His hair was also shorter, framing his face similar to the first one. His black attire was slimmer, better fit to his body, the long cloak flared behind him in a very Dream way as he moved through the space, inspecting the fireplace by the table in the corner. “It’s a bit simple for you.”
He chuckled. “Simple?”
“Yeah, your usual style has a bit more flare to it. Fancy boots, your little midnight coat, you know Dream things.”
Hob looked at the fireplace with Dream and laughed. “I can’t believe I was going on about chimneys and card games.”
Dreams eyes slid away from me, a dangerous glint in them leaving me wondering what trick he had up his sleeve. “Indeed, it was quite riveting to listen to.”
“1589 then?”
With a nod Dream did his magic and the space lit up with the warmth of the fires. Everyone was dressed finely, making conversation and Hob had changed the most. He was dressed head to toe in an elaborate silk tunic adorned with blue designs and frilled cuffs. His hair was pulled back and his face framed with a goatee. He held his arms out nodding enthusiastically. “It’s good right?”
I nodded back, running a hand over the fine fabric of his shoulder. “An improvement for sure, Hob.”
“Ah, no then I was known as Sir Robert Gadling!” He proclaimed proudly.
I leaned back against the table and laughed at him. “Sir, what did a degenerate like you do to get such a fine title?”
He leaned in and whispered, “I don’t actually remember.”
Just as I was about to ask where Dream had gone he walked around the corner and my heart stopped, mouth falling open slightly with a breathless, “Oh shit.”
He was dressed head to toe in glossy black leather. His hair was slicked back, revealing the glint of an earring. God this is not fair. I bit my lip, eyes focusing on the ruby that reflected in the candlelight as he walked leisurely towards me, each step echoing through the space. I was blushing, I just knew I was. Hob had moved to look at something across the room and I had never been more thankful for his absence as Dream stood, dark eyes looking down at me.
“Well, what is your verdict, my lady?” He inquired, tilting his head a little, flashing his neck.
“It’s…” My voice was hoarse. “It’s a good look.”
His brow arched and he smirked down at me. “Good?”
A shiver ran down my spine and straight to my core. God damn you and that fucking voice. His smirk grew and he closed the little space that was between us. I tried to keep my thoughts from straying, but as soon as my hands touched the soft leather of his chest, in an attempt to steady myself, the filthy image filled my mind and if the unbearably hungry look in his eyes meant anything his too. It was a simple little fantasy. Dream, dressed in this newfound leather attire, throwing me on top of the table and fucking me relentlessly in the tavern full of people.
His lust smoldered between us as he took in the new information. “Is that how you think it would go?”
“Am I wrong?” I asked, straining to keep my eyes on his and not on his lips.
“Perhaps we’ll have to test that active imagination of yours,” he whispered, lips moving closer to mine. “Later.”
Then he pulled away from me entirely and it was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on me. Hob rejoined us, asking to continue through the fun, while I glared at Dream. You’re an asshole.
The next hundred years Hob had lost everything, dressed back down to rags and disheveled hair. Dream however was dressed elegantly in black, long hair cascading down his shoulders. I glared at him as Hob looked down at himself and complained. I should pull your dumb long hair. He merely chuckled at me and we moved forward.
A hundred years later and both of them were dressed in high collars and well adorned outfits. They looked good, but I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of their hair curled and prim and proper. Hob rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what fashion was back then!”
“I don’t,” I said between laughs. “But my god your hair!”
A flash of gold entered the illusion and I turned with wide eyes staring at Johanna. Dream hummed. “Ah, I’d almost forgotten about this.”
“Is Johanna immortal too?” I asked looking at the image of the woman in front of me.
“No,” Dream assured me. “This is her ancestor. Though the resemblance is uncanny.”
“She would absolutely hate this,” I said with a smile at the thought of her disgusted face looking at the poofy dress.
I saw Dream’s 1889 look first this time. A simple black overcoat, short hair slicked back underneath a long top hat. He quickly took them both off, revealing a form fitting black shirt with his ruby around his neck. He looked good, and he knew it, but I refused to give him the satisfaction after his rude teasing. So I turned to Hob, who was dressed in simple gray and white with nicely styled hair. “Looking good Hob!”
He beamed at me. “I told you I got better.”
I ran my hands down his shoulders and smiled back at Dream. “Don’t you think this is a good look for him?”
Dream glared at Hob, then at me and sighed. “It looks fine.”
Eventually, the sun set and Hob retired for the evening, but not without making Dream promise to return soon… before the next hundred years, to make up for missing their last meeting. Then it was just he and I, walking along the mostly empty streets. “So, it looks like I know your friend.”
“Yes,” he said. “I was not expecting that.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
With a quiet sigh he looked at me and smiled. “Would you come with me back to The Dreaming?”
Warmth filled my chest and I turned into him. “Of course. But I need to grab a few things from my apartment first, and tell Johanna.”
He nodded in agreement, using his sand to take us to my room. I packed a small bag of clothes, knowing full well I intended on staying as long as he’d let me, before I left in search of Johanna. Dream waited in the doorway as I searched the living room. “Jo?”
“In there,” she said from the office. She was knee deep in a box of crosses, grumbling to herself as she tried to fish out a particular one. When she saw me she smiled. “Have a good time with your man?”
I rolled my eyes, moving through the mess to grab the bag of trinkets from my desk drawer. I’d wanted to show Dream some of the things Jessamy had found, but with the insanity of his arrival and everything that followed there hadn’t been time. “Shut it. I’m going with him for a few days, I hope. Will you and Pierre be alright here?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. He’s annoying as fuck, but the french man is very good at handeling himself. And I’m, well, I’m me so no worries there.”
“Be safe, and please don’t kill him while I’m gone,” I said, giving her a one armed hug over her mess. “I want to be there for the show.”
She laughed, but looked in my eyes with a seriousness unlike her. “You seem off. Everything okay?”
I sighed. “I’m about to find out.”
“If we need to kill him, let me know, I’ve got some people that might know a trick or two.”
“Goodnight, Johanna.”
As I made my way out the door she hollared back, “And if you fuck him I’m going to want the details!”
I laughed all the way back to my room and smiled at Dream when he gave me a curious look. “All set to travel, Dream.”
He set a hand on my back and I curled into his stiff body. Something was still on his mind, but I couldn’t tell what, so I elected to ignore it… I’d wait for him to bring it up, or at least until I couldn’t wait any longer.
The sand took us somewhere different this time, the boards of the pier creaked and groaned with the soft gentle movements of the water. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but the deep sapphire and the reflection of the misty star filled skies. The air smelled like rain as a light breeze surrounded us, making me curl deeper into Dreams embrace. For a moment we stood in the silence, content to just exist, but then Dream cleared his throat and stepped away. He pulled the bag of Jessamys ashes out of his coat and smiled down at me. "She would have wanted us to do this together."
I nodded, holding my hands out and letting him pour half of the ashes in my palms before he poured the rest in his. Together we slowly let the ashes spread in the light breeze and the glistening waters below us. "Goodbye, old friend."
"May you finally be at peace," I whispered.
The silence that had once been comforting was now filled with uncertainty as I felt my gut twist the longer we stood. "Morpheus."
"Yes?"
"Are you going to leave?" I watched the water, afraid to look away.
He sighed, hands clasped behind him. "I thought about it."
There it was. The answer I didn't want to hear. Stinging pain, echoes of the countless abandonments and betrayals over the years filled me. Tears threatened to spill over as I said, "I would understand if you did." He hadn't been expecting this, his eyes looking down at me. "I can't imagine what it must be like, being thrown into the mess of my life."
"That's not at all why I'd been considering it, Penelope." He turned to me, his hand settling on my arm. "Look at me, please."
I did so with my jaw clenched. "Then why?"
His eyes looked even brighter here as he looked down at me. "I don't deserve you."
I laughed a little, tears rolling down my cheeks. "If you don't then no one does. You're not perfect, Dream, I’m not expecting that of you. I’m not perfect either."
"You are far better than I am."
"Maybe, or maybe both of us are imperfect." I pulled him down by his cheeks, pressing my head to his. "Have we not given enough? Do we not deserve even the chance at happiness?"
He closed his eyes, sinking into my hands. "You do deserve that."
"So do you. You are my chance at happiness you idiot," I breathed. "You always have been... You always will be."
His hands cupped my face as he pulled away enough to look down at me. "I am far from what you deserve, but so long as you want me I will always be yours, Penelope Barlow."
“I meant what I said the other night. I want all of you, Morpheus."
“I’m beginning to see that.” His eyes softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. My hands slid into his hair as the kiss deepened, quickly filling with the heat and pent up need we’d both been keeping reigned in since Hell, maybe since long before. I felt one of his hands leave my hair and then a slight tingle rushed over my skin and when I pulled away we were in his bedroom.
His eyes watched me take in the change of scenery, the depth of their want barely contained as I smiled. “That’s a very impressive trick, my lord. Do you have any others?”
"I have plenty of tricks," he said, pulling me back to him.
"Will I get to see them?" I asked breathlessly.
"Maybe a few." Heat ripped through me. "Now," he whispered, breath fanning across my face. "Where were we last night?"
"I'm pretty sure I was on top of something." I mused, pretending it was difficult to remember. I felt the hard wood behind me as Dream lifted me up onto the top of the replica of my desk. "I was wearing a dress and you'd just torn one of my favorite pairs of panties." The slight wave of his fingers sent a chill up my spine as my clothes shifted to a silk dress, not unlike the one I was in last night, soft and cool against my bare skin, already bunched up above my thighs.
"Anything else?" His voice was low and rough.
Fisting his coat in my hands I pulled him closer. "Just you."
He gripped my legs tightly as our lips connected. Soft hands dragged up my thighs, moving beneath each of them to drag me further down the desk and into him. I groaned at the feeling of his hard cock straining against his pants. My hands slid under his coat, pushing it off his shoulders greedily as Morpheus' hands moved again, under my dress to pull my thighs apart as wide as he could.
I gasped at the sudden chill of my exposed ass on the bare wood as he shoved the dress up higher, holding it in a tight grip in one hand while the other gathered the slick from my soaking folds and lifted them to his lips. I watched his tongue curl around his fingers with a needy whine. "Are you going to show me what your mouth can do when you're not pouting?"
He chuckled, returning his fingers to my core, circling around my clit torturously slowly and drawing out a strangled moan from my chest as I held onto his arms for dear life. "Next time."
"God, Morpheus," I gasped as his fingers pushed into me.
"You're so beautiful like this," he mumbled against my skin as he buried his face in my neck. He pressed soft kisses to the faded bruise left by the white coats, soothing over the skin with his tongue before biting and sucking new marks along my collarbones. "Falling apart already and we've only just started."
His pace quickened and my hips moved against his fingers. I gasped, the coil that had formed in my gut tightening every second. "You…" Another gasp as his fingers found the deliciously sensitive spot. "Ah, you… Make falling apart easy."
"Show me, my lady," he whispered as my fingers gripped his hair, tugging roughly at the roots.
His voice alone was enough to send me over the edge with a loud breathless moan. His fingers coaxed me through the orgasm, and slowly began building me up to a second before they stopped. I gripped him tighter, whimpering as he pulled away from my aching cunt. "Morpheus, please!"
With a chuckle he grabbed me by my thighs, and lifted me off the desk. "As much fun as that position is, I'd prefer take you on the bed this time."
The chilled silk sheets caressed every inch of me, now completely exposed before the Dream Lord. I scoffed up at him. "That's hardly fair."
"Maybe not," he admitted, eyes running over every inch of me, drinking in the sight with lust.
"Are you going to relieve yourself of your clothes as well, my lord?" I asked.
"I want your hands on me," he rasped. "If you'd like to do the honors."
I moved to sit up, running my hands up the sides of his things, under the black shirt he wore. Our eyes stayed locked as I relieved him of his shirt, pressing light kisses along his abdomen and working on his pants. When he was at last standing in front of me just as bare as I was I bit my bottom lip to keep in the groan. My eyes ran over the defined lines of his muscles, the memories I had of his naked body did not do him justice. Wrapping my hand around his hard dick I looked up at him, watching his eyes roll back and his mouth fall open slightly. "God you're pretty."
"Enough teasing," he gasped, wrapping a hand around my wrist to stop me. "Tonight, I will worship you."
"Worship can go both ways," I reminded.
Dream smiled, stroking my jaw. "You may worship me all you wish, later."
"Later," I whined as he gently pushed me back onto the bed. "I'm starting to think you like that word too much."
"I like you a great deal more," he whispered, kissing the scar along my thigh. He moved to the next scar, my knee and then the next, my hip. Every scar I had received his attention and every inch of skin between them was worshiped with kisses, bites and hickeys until he finally reached my collarbone.
"Morpheus," I heaved, every inch of my skin burning with the adoration he poured down the bond. "You said no teasing."
He sighed against my skin, his head moving toward my breasts. "My apologies, my love. Let me make it up to you."
When his tongue darted out and swirled around my hardened nipple I nearly choked on the moan. He continued the same attention to the other, seemingly attempting to draw out as many noises from me as he could and I was in no position to deny him. Every touch felt like fire, fueling the coil in my core until I couldn't take it anymore. "Morpheus, please!"
Smiling against my skin, his teeth grazed my nipple one last time, tugging on it lightly before he moved to press a searing kiss to my lips. "What do you want, my lady?"
"You!" I whined breathlessly. "Please."
Without another word his eyes locked onto mine as he lined his leaking tip with my entrance. My nails dug into his arms as he slowly pushed into me. Head thrown back against the silk I gasped beneath him and his hand beside my head fisted in the sheets. "Oh my god!"
A strained chuckle vibrated through him. "Not quite a god-"
"Endless," I said, a moan interrupting me as his hips finally came flush with mine. "I know, I know just shut up and fuck me."
Dream took my words to heart, his free hand gripping my hip tightly as he pulled back, almost pulling out of me entirely before thrusting forward. Oh god! My hands found purchase in his hair, tugging tightly and earning a moan from him as he continued setting a brutal pace. "I've thought of little else since our reunion," his voice in my head was too much as I writhed beneath him, the sounds spilling from my lips were absolutely unhinged. "Yet, in all my fantasies I could never have imagined just how wrong I would be. You are far more exquisite than I could ever imagine."
"Morpheus!" He looked down at me, his breath fanning across my face as he began thrusting harder, lifting my leg over his arm to push even deeper inside me.
"Keep making those sounds for me," he ordered.
I moved my hips against his, panting and scratching at him, blinding pleasure building even faster in me as his dick hit just the right spot. "There…" I breathed, pressing my lips to his in a sloppy, desperate, needy kiss. "Don't you dare stop."
He bit my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth as he moved even faster, both hands on my hips, lifting me slightly up off the bed and pushing me down against him to match his pace. "Come for me, Penelope," he urged.
The coil wound tighter and tighter and then he moved his fingers to my clit, circling it quickly to match his thrusts. I came beneath him, my toes curling and head thrown back with a cry so loud I was certain at least half The Dreaming heard. He didn't slow, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic as he chased his own pleasure. With a few final movements he came, hands gripping me tightly as we both heaved against one another, sweaty and satisfied. Between us a steady hum of love and adoration flowed.
Morpheus gazed down at me for a moment before he pressed his forehead to mine. "I love you."
I smiled and breathed out a content sigh. "I love you too, Morpheus."
"We should have done this from the start," he said, rolling to the side, still holding me in his arms.
"Absolutely," I agreed. "But, the wait was worth it."
His smile was more beautiful than the stars. His fingers caressed over my back, lovingly tracing the scar up my shoulder. "You are so beautiful."
"As are you," I whispered back, my body melting into him. "So, do Endless dream kings sleep?"
"I can sleep," he said, waving his hand, encasing both of us in the silky blankets.
"Will you sleep with me then?"
"There is nothing I want more, my love."
***
When I woke the next morning the feel of his cold smooth skin beneath my palm sent a wave of happiness through me. He'd stayed. I moved, my cheek rubbing against his bare chest and his arm wound around me a little tighter. "Good morning." God his voice was even sexier now.
Looking up at him, bathed in the gorgeous light of the rising sun I smiled. "Good morning."
His fingers ran through my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp as I lifted myself a little to press a kiss to his jaw. "I trust you slept well."
"Better than I ever have," I said, burying my face into the crook of his neck. "Though I should have expected as much with the king of dreams in bed with me."
His lips pressed into my hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what was that bag you brought?”
Oh! I sat up quickly, reaching over to where my bag lay beside his bed. Magic is the best. I could feel his eyes roaming down my naked body as I fished the smaller bag out and set it on the bed. “Ta da!”
“It would certainly be more impressive if I could see what's in it.”
He sat up and then it was my turn to admire his naked body. I hummed, looking at him before leaning to press a kiss to his shoulder as he settled in beside me, pulling the bag open to reveal the shiny treasures within. “It’s mostly junk. But I wanted to bring it so you could see some of the things Jessamy found.”
Goosebumps rose on my skin at the coldness of the air, so Dream stroked a hand down my back and pulled me in for a kiss as a pair of the clothes I’d brought magically appeared on my body. When I pulled away I grumbled in disappointment at the sight of him also redressed, he only smiled. “There will be time for that again later.”
“Later again,” I groaned. “Fine, but it better be good, great king.”
“Was last night not?”
“That was perfect,” I assured him. “I’m just saying you owe me some mind blowing sex for robbing me of your naked beauty.”
“I could use the same argument for you.”
“Please do,” I encouraged with a wicked grin. “I have plenty of mind blowing ideas.”
He began sifting through the bag, looking at each small trinket with bright eyes and a smile. I told him the story behind all of them, moving so I was between his legs and leaning back against his chest.
When he pulled the old wired ring out I sighed. “This was one of the last things she brought me.”
“I know,” he said. “I sent her to get it.”
“What?” I turned, looking back at him with furrowed brows.
“You were crying,” he said softly, running his fingers along the stone. “She told me it was because you were worried for me. So, I sent her to find it.”
I looked down at the beautiful opalescent moonstone. “Is it from The Dreaming?”
“No,” he replied. “I told her to find a moonstone that she liked. Where she found this particular one I’m not sure.”
“Why a moonstone?”
With a small shrug he smiled at me. “Sometimes when you’d look up at me from that basement floor your eyes would catch the light and shine like these stones do. I figured it was as good a gesture as I could offer at the time.”
My heart filled with joy as I curled back into him, kissing his neck and jaw before pressing a longer one to his lips. “It’s perfect.”
“Well, not yet, it's not.” He curled his fingers around the ring and when he reopened it the beautiful stone was set in a dark, intricate band that shimmered and shined with starlight everytime the light hit it. “There, now it is perfect.”
“Morpheus,” I gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
He slid the ring onto my finger and kissed my knuckles. “I’ve enchanted the stone as well. If you ever need me, just invoke my name and I shall find you, wherever you are.”
“Probably a useful trick to have, all things considered,” I said, stroking his cheek.
“That reminds me, Lucienne requested my presence in the library. She wishes to go over a few things she’s found that might explain your disappearing act.”
I kissed him, intending for it to be short, but he cupped the back of my head and pulled me into him. The easy, soft kiss made every inch of me tingle with a gleeful happiness that was alien to me. It felt like I was finally where I belonged. He sighed against my lips when he pulled away, his thoughts swimming with my own. I lightly pushed against his chest. “Go, before we get lost in all those filthy thoughts of yours.”
“As if yours are much cleaner,” he teased.
Blushing, I shrugged. “Can you blame me? You’re far too good looking for clean thoughts.”
“Go back to sleep, it’s still early for human standards. I’ll be back as quickly as I’m able and we can continue this discussion.” He kissed my head and made his way out the door, sparing me one last glance before he closed it after him.
I smiled as I lay back on the bed, running my finger over the new shimmering ring on my finger. My eyes closed and I breathed in the absolute perfection of the atmosphere. When I opened my eyes next, everything was too bright. Lines of colors flared in my vision no matter where I looked and my head swarmed with a blinding pain. I grabbed my head, my hands digging into it tightly as everything began to twist and pull around me.
I stood, falling to my knees immediately and gasping for air as the pain began to lessen and my hands slammed down onto the glossy red floor.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
"Come now, Petal, we don't have all day." A familiar voice purred as my vision started to return to normal. With a groan I looked up at the figure clad in black standing before me. Gold eyes and red lips twisted into that wide grin. "There she is, our baby Weaver."
This chapter is going to be 👀 interesting, settle in, she's longer than chapter 6 was so get some snacks and a drink and enjoy! 🥰
Why don't the Endless have fucking cell phones? I thought bitterly to myself as I stared at the man holding Morpheus' ruby. Something was wrong, I could feel it in the unusual quiet of the mark. Ever since our reunion it had pulsed with the steady thrum of him, what he was feeling or even just the soft caress of his power. But, ever since our departure in Hell all feeling had faded, and as I stared at the man holding the ruby I couldn't shake the feeling he had something to do with it.
He didn't beat Morpheus, no, this stranger was nowhere near as cunning nor powerful even with the stolen jewel. Something had happened though, but what? In the background the news reported some kind of traffic accident as the kind waitress stepped up to his table and smiled. "Best seat in the house. How are you doin today?"
"How am I doing today? Well… I'm feeling better than I have in quite some time, thank you." He said with a smile, one that didn't feel quite genuine or fake.
"Mmm. I could use some of that. What's your secret?" The waitress asked.
"Shall I tell you the truth?"
"Well, honesty is the best policy."
"That's what they say isn't it? Well, I hope that's true." He held up the glistening red jewel and smiled. "This is my secret."
"It's gorgeous," the waitress remarked.
His eyes shifted to hers, an unsettling gleam in them. "It makes dreams come true."
The waitress laughed a little. "I bet it does. And what are you dreaming of? New house? New job?"
"A new world. A more honest one." I practically scoffed. Honesty coming from a thief, how ironic.
"That is the dream, isn't it?" She sighed. "Well, can I get you a cup of coffee while we wait for our dreams to come true?"
The ruby seemed to flare as he spoke, "Yes, please. But we won't be waiting for long."
"Well I'd better hurry and get you that coffee then." She turned, heading around the counter as he watched after her.
This man was weird, but not the usual kind of weird, everything about him was just off in a way that I couldn't place. But watching him stare at everyone in the diner made a pit form in my stomach. That pit made me decide it was best to stick around for a little, to see if Dream would be close behind or if I'd be finding a way to get his ruby and get back to London on my own. His sand sent me here, that must mean he knew and was coming back for me. I'd hoped as much at least.
Getting back to London with nothing to my name would be complicated, not impossible, but a lot more work and criminal activity than I'd wanted to have to do. My stomach growled again and I cursed myself quietly. You know better than to go off with Johanna without your wallet! Stupid, stupid! I eyed every plate the waitress brought out. It had been a long night, being in Hell and all, and I was starving not to mention exhausted. I sighed, Why the fuck can't I just go home and take a nap? Or a shower? God I probably smell so bad right now. Johanna was going to kill me when I got back.
The diner had a few more people come in. A girl, frantically checking her phone every second and moving around in her seat nervously. A young man preparing for a job interview. And a couple, a classic example of people that fought to look happy but very much so were not. There were various conversations going on throughout the establishment. The couple made small talk with the waitress, asking about her son and her writing before just as politely arguing about what the man should order. The girl and young man talked about his job interview and how poor of a matchmaker the waitress was. It was all so normal, standard for some small town diner, then Mr. Weirdo Ruby Thief started doing whatever the hell he was doing and shit started getting weird.
The waitress stopped in front of me and opened her mouth to ask if I needed anything but then realized something and stopped herself, rushing back over to the man with the ruby. Our eyes locked and a hint of confusion flashed over his face before she spoke. "I'm so sorry, sir! It's their anniversary."
"Yes, I heard you introduced them."
"Yes I did." She sounded proud.
"And you're not really a waitress, are you Bette? You're a writer."
She chuckled. "Well, I'm a waitress who writes."
"Fiction? Non-fiction?"
"Well, all my characters are based on real people, but it's fiction I guess because my stories always have a happy ending."
The man nodded. "Well that's because you know when to stop."
"How do you mean?"
"The problem with stories is if you keep them going long enough they all end in death, don't they?" He said calmly, the silence swallowing something in the waitresses mind before the ding of the kitchen bell pulled her out of it.
"So, what'll you have handsome?" She asked.
His jaw tightened slightly as he looked out the window for a moment. "Ah. May I ask, you don't really think I'm handsome do you?"
For a moment she struggled to answer, but as the ruby glowed in between his fingers she suddenly blurted out, "No, of course I don't."
He gripped the jewel tighter. "Why did you call me that? Why did you lie?"
"I don't know…" She stuttered. "I guess I was just trying to be… I just wanted to make you feel… I wanted you to like me.'
"I do like you," he said softly, so softly I almost didn't hear. "I like this version of you much better, don't you?" When she nodded, quick, tense and uneasy he continued. "Isn't it a relief to tell the truth for once? Don't you wish we could live in a world where we could say what we actually think?"
"I do."
"Well it starts with us, Bette, you and I are going to change the world. Make a more honest one."
They stared at one another for a while before she walked away, her features twisted into confusion. Everything started getting worse from there. No matter where I looked, no matter what conversation I honed in on, anger and frustration filled the diner. The young woman stood to leave, but just stood there, looking at the door before the waitress said in a dead voice, one devoid of all the cheer it had held earlier. "Did you hear from Donna?” No reply, just a shake of her head. “You wanna wait a little while longer?"
She turned around and nodded, taking the seat she’d just vacated and settled back in.
After that anyone that tried to leave would end up the same, confused, frozen before they'd just go back to their seats. Sometimes the whole diner would reenact when they'd first arrived. All the while Weirdo Ruby Thief made slow rounds through the place, having conversations with everyone he could. I didn't hear them all, but the ones I did revolved around lies and truth. After about two hours my head was swarmed with the noise and the tension. It was thick in the air, so much so it made it hard to breathe as memories of a similar environment began to resurface.
I set my head down on the counter, taking deep breaths, trying to keep myself tethered to the present. He was coming. I told myself, over and over and over again until another thirty minutes had passed. Dream you fucking ass you'd better come get me. I thought with a sigh. A hand suddenly hit the counter beside me and startled me straight up. The ruby man smiled, but even that was wrong. "Hello."
"Hi." I replied tensely.
"You seem to be the only person here that the ruby doesn't affect. That means you must be the only other honest person here."
I arched my brow. "I wouldn't say either of us is purely honest."
He chuckled. "The ruby does not lie."
"Well, let's test this magic ruby then?" I leaned a little closer. "I am a four eyed alien from a far away planet. Is that a lie?"
"Obviously," he said.
"No, did the ruby tell you it was a lie?"
His smile grew tense. "Well no."
"Let's do another one then, something simple. I am very tired and hungry. Truth or lie?"
He looked visibly shaken. "I… I don't know."
I hummed. "It must be broken then. Maybe you should go home and figure that out."
"My ruby has never not worked before. How are you doing this?"
"Your ruby?" I laughed. "Do you not know who it really belongs to?"
He tilted his head, looking at me curiously. "You know of the ruby, and its previous owner?"
"Yeah, previous might not be the word I'd use when he gets here. He doesn't really like it when people take his stuff and claim it as their own."
"How do you know all this?"
I sighed, spinning in my seat slightly. "Listen buddy, I've had a really long night so unless you want to buy me some food I'd really appreciate it if you just fucked off back to your weird little ruby corner."
His lips twitched. "You're rather rude aren't you?"
"Only to thieves that like to run their mouths and play dollhouse with random people in diners."
"I'm not playing!" He insisted. "I am ridding these people of lies. I’m building a better world."
"Ridding them of lies?" I asked, looking around at the misery that had already begun to set in. "Because to me this looks like you doing your freaky thing to keep these people from leaving just so you can feel some tiny ounce of power. As for this whole better world of yours eradicating lies won’t fix all the issues the world has. The truth holds evil in it just as much as lies do. And using a stolen magic ruby to achieve this perfect world of yours is just not the way to go, especially when it’s clear that it’s hurting these people."
He looked offended at my words, but sat next to me regardless. "What is your name?"
"What makes you think I'm gonna tell you?"
"You haven't tried to leave." He smiled. "And I think I know why."
"You don't."
"You want to see how this plays out. You're here to test me, to see if I can truly rid this world of lies."
I fought the urge to laugh. "Ah, so you think all this is about you."
"Isn't it though? Is that not why you're here?"
"I honestly don't know why I'm here, weird ruby guy. But I can tell you for certain it's not for you. Though I'm not opposed to sticking around and watching the real owner of that ruby kick your ass."
"My name is John. John Dee, or I suppose Burgess might be appropriate."
I went stiff for a moment, the memories of that damn house echoing in my ears before I looked at him closely. He resembled Roderick some, but looked so much like Ethel I didn't know how I'd missed it. With a laugh I nodded to myself. "You're Ethel Cripps bastard. I heard the rumors but never thought I'd actually run into either of you."
He shook his head, fingers stroking over the ruby, almost nervously. "You knew my mother?"
"In passing. I knew your father and your brother too."
"How?"
"They kept me chained up in their basement for two years before sending me away to an insane asylum."
John looked conflicted. He still couldn't quite tell if I was telling the truth or not. "That's not possible… you, you would be hundreds of years old."
I shrugged. "I've got a very good skincare routine."
"What were they like? The family I never had?"
Wrong person to ask for a heartfelt story bud. "Roderick, your father, was an abusive piece of shit that didn't care about anyone but himself or power. Alex, your brother, was a coward and a real lousy friend. And you, it would seem, didn't fall far from the tree."
He shook his head. "No. I'm helping these people."
"Listen, John, if you really want to help these people let them go home. Let them lie to themselves, to others, because it's not your business. You're not god and you sure as hell aren't the Sandman."
"You know him." I stood, making my way to the door. "You can't leave! The ruby won't let you."
Hand on the door handle I looked back at him. "Fuck you and the ruby. I'm going to wait for the real owner to get here and then maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get to watch him take the damn thing from you along with all your weird psycho powers."
The door slid open and I stepped through, flipping him off as I went, but as I closed the door I turned to a sight that most definitely wasn't a diner parking lot. A long path of tall hedges was now in front of me. God damn it. I turned to look back around the door, which was now gone. "Great, so now I can't even walk through doors without teleporting places… That's just awesome." I grumbled to myself continuing down the path.
It just had to be a maze, didn't it? A maze that I had no way to determine which way was the beginning or the end. I just walked forward, hoping that one of these paths led to food. The hedges were well maintained and the path beneath my feet looked like gravel but felt as smooth as a well made sidewalk. Soon butterflies began appearing, starting with just one or two but quickly turning into dozens lining the hedges and fluttering off down particular paths, almost like they were leading me, and I followed because, well it couldn’t exactly get any worse than lost in a magic maze and starving. Eventually the hedges opened up to a large circular courtyard. All the paths led here, at least that's what it looked like from the quick look I got before the butterflies suddenly swarmed me.
They circled me with the feather light touches of their wings until I stepped forward, trying to get out of the bubble they'd created, and slammed face first into a solid mass. The butterflies quickly began to disperse revealing the tall figure I'd run into. He was clothed in a long gray robe and looked down at me with white clouded eyes. As I stumbled back he steadied me with a single hand, the other held a large book to him as chains rattled together with his movement. The smell of dust and old paper overwhelmed me.
"You are early," he said calmly. "Or perhaps you are on time…"
"Y… You were expecting me?"
"No." He stood in front of me for a moment. "You're bigger than you were last time."
I looked down at myself, still in the dress Dream had magically given me. Bigger? Last time? "I'm sorry I don't understand what's happening."
"Most don't." He said, walking away, his tall figure casting no shadow in the sunlight as he moved to a small table set with tea and snacks. He promptly took a seat and began pouring himself and me a cup of tea.
I looked around the garden, at the beautiful flowers blooming and the tall statues that depicted seven figures. They all felt so familiar as I stopped at one of the statues, my eyes tracing its chiseled features, settling on the pendant that hung around her neck. Death? I moved to another, a face I'd seen so often, the shoulders and lithe figure one I'd been pressed up against only hours ago. If I had any doubts, the raven that stood beside him washed them away. Dream. It had to be him.
"I believe you have met my sister, Death, and that you are intimately acquainted with my brother, Dream."
"I… I wouldn't say intimately," I answered nervously.
"I would. This is inevitable when it comes to the two of you."
"What is all this?" I asked.
He lifted the cup in his hand. "Afternoon tea."
"No, this place… You…" I shook my head and looked at him. Maybe one question at a time would help speed things along? "Who are you?"
"I am Destiny." He said plainly.
"You're one of his siblings… an Endless." I answered nervously.
"Yes."
Looking around at the large hedges and statues I sighed. "What is this place?"
"My garden. You have traveled here many times."
"It feels familiar but I don't remember…"
He nodded. "You were quite young. The most recent time was after. You were as you are now."
Then it came back to me. "You were there, outside the club that night."
With a shrug he took a sip of his tea. "I've not left my garden. You were here, you walked past and you chose a path."
"So I was just hallucinating then?" It wouldn't be the first time.
"No. You had a choice in front of you. To enter the club or to wait, this choice brought your mind, at least, to me. You saw me where you were, and I saw you where I was. Just because you did not see the garden or the path doesn't mean it wasn't real."
"The last time I saw you… You said 'it likes to change for you'." I looked at the tea and the small decorated plate of food as I took the seat across from him. "What did you mean?"
"I meant what I said."
I sighed. Of course Destiny would be vague as fuck. "Okay, well then what did what you said mean?"
"That it likes to change for you."
We stared at one another for a moment. "You can't be serious with this." He didn't react, merely drank more of his tea. "Fine! What is it and why does it change for me?"
"It is this, the book, it tells me of what is to come and how it shall be. What is written is usually more definite, set in stone, there are some changes through the eons, often to choices made and choices not. It just seems to do so more for you."
My eyes glued to the chain around his wrist. "Are you a prisoner to it?"
"I suppose that is one way to see it." He gestured to the food. "Eat, Penelope. You are hungry."
"You know my name?"
"I know a great deal about you. Your favorite color, your favorite among my flowers, your preference of tea and food."
"How?"
"As I said, you have been here many times. You did not have this many questions, though, you were just as vocal then if not more so."
I filled my plate, unable to ignore the pangs of hunger rumbling through me. If this was poisoned at least I'd die with a full stomach. While I ate and drank Destiny was silent. He just sat, sipping his tea and occasionally looking around the garden. I couldn't tell if he was blind or if his eyes just looked that way and I had the feeling he wouldn't answer even if I asked.
"This is the most you're gonna give me, isn't it?"
He turned back to me. "You may have all the food and drink you wish."
"No, I mean answers."
"I do not interfere in the affairs of mortals."
"Then why am I here?"
"Because here is where you were meant to be."
"How do I get back?"
He gestured to the maze around us. "You choose a path."
My eyes narrowed. "And it'll take me back to the diner?"
"It will take you where you are meant to go."
"Of course." I stood and looked around at the plethora of paths. "What happens if I pick the wrong one?"
Destiny stood beside me, a hand on my shoulder. "No path chosen is simply right or wrong."
With a heavy sigh I looked up at him. "You've been nice and all, but talking to you is very difficult."
He made a noise, not a laugh and not a scoff, something in between. "You have told me this many times."
When I turned back to the hedges the butterflies had returned, clinging to the hedged path on the right, some swirling out to circle me or land in my hair. "What's with the butterflies?"
"Butterflies often represent metamorphosis, change and rebirth." He stated. "They tend to arrive with you."
"They aren't yours?"
Destiny squeezed my shoulder. "Good luck, Penelope."
I watched him walk down another path, the chains echoing in the distance before the noise was gone entirely. Turning back to the butterflies I shrugged, starting down the path they marked. "Guess I'm gonna just have to trust you guys."
Following the butterflies through all the twists and turns of the maze was easy, but after walking for what felt like hours I was starting to second guess their purpose. My feet ached, even with the comfortable shoes and smooth path. After a while, an eternity maybe, I stopped. "Are you even leading me the right way?"
The mass continued down the path and took a left turn. With no real options I followed and turned to find them lining the edges of the diner door. "Damn, okay. Sorry for doubting you." I put my hand on the handle and gave the hedges one last look. "Bye I guess."
I stepped into the diner, now darkened by the night outside and nearly slipped. The floor was streaked and splattered with blood and their air was filled with the tang of copper and burning flesh. The bodies of everyone that had been in the diner littered the floor and there at the end of the counter with a bucket of ice cream and a spoon sat John fucking Burgess. Anger filled me at the sight of him, unbothered, uncaring of the lives he’d trapped and let die here. He turned at the sound of the bell above the door and smiled at me.
“You’re back.” I marched towards him without a word and shoved his bucket of ice cream off the table before moving to sit three or four seats away from him. “That was very rude.”
“Yeah, well murderers don’t get ice cream.”
We sat in the dark, the only sounds coming from the old tv in the corner for what seemed like forever. I kept my eyes on the wall ahead of me, scared that if I looked at the bodies, the blood for long enough I’d be dragged back into the blood that drenched my own past. After a while the power went out completely as thunder and lightning filled the sky outside. John turned and watched me. “I’m not a bad person, you know.”
I scoffed. “Okay, John, whatever you want to believe.”
“I just want to build a world without lies.” He said. “Is that such an evil thing?”
I turned and glared at him. “It is when this is what you build it on. You killed these people.”
“I -”
“Don’t.” I warned him. “If I hear one more word come out of your mouth I won’t wait for the Sandman to get here and kick your ass, I’ll do it myself.”
He didn’t seem afraid, but uncertain, so he remained quiet as we waited in the dark. It didn’t take much longer until the door to the diner opened with a ding and the sound of his familiarly light steps echoed in the diner entrance. John stood first, but I could feel Dream's eyes glued to me. With a smile I turned. “You’re late.”
“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice calm and gentle, though the rage of his worry hit me like a train.
“No.” I assured him, standing up and moving closer. “But, I’m very confused as to why I’m here.”
“As am I,” he admitted, eyes running over every inch of me in a quick double check. “Are you alright?”
I knew what he meant, and all I could give him was a weak nod, one he saw right through. Lifting a hand from his pocket he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek. “Wait outside with Matthew while I finish this.”
I eyed the door. “Maybe I should just stick with you? The last two times I’ve tried to leave you I’ve ended up in a not so fun place… And the door might teleport me somewhere random again.” His eyebrows rose slightly at the word again and I waved him off. “We can talk about that later.”
Dream opened the door for me and nodded. “Go, please.”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “But if I end up in some random shit hole you’d better come for me.”
“I’m certain you’ll be fine for a few minutes,” he said, that spark of amusement reassuring me as I stepped out into the cloudy night.
Matthew was perched on top of one of the cars in the parking lot. “Hey, Penny! How’d you get here?”
“The magic sand,” I answered, sitting on top of the hood and looking over at him. “What the hell happened to you guys?”
“The magic ruby,” he replied.
I chuckled and hugged myself in an attempt to stay warm while I waited. “This magic shit is absolutely out of control.”
He cawed. “Tell me about it. So, you were with the ruby thief?”
“Yeah, for a little bit.” I sighed. “Then I got teleported to Dream’s brother's garden and had tea with Destiny.”
The bird looked over at me in awe. “Wait what?”
I laid down across the windshield. “It's a very long story, dear Matthew.”
***
Dream had felt something after sending Penelope back to the Waking World, it was only a slight twinge, an uncomfortable itch at the back of his mind and so he’d chosen to move forward in his final quest to retrieve the last of his stolen tools. Donning his helm and using his sand to take him and Matthew to where his ruby was hidden, for the first time since his release Dream felt at ease. Here he was, in the warehouse, about to complete his quest to regain his power and save his realm, but things didn’t go as he’d planned. Upon his arrival he could feel his power radiate from the jewel but something was different. It had been altered, changed. When he’d reached out to it the blast had knocked him clear into the wall and there he had remained for hours until the burning tug of Penelope's piqued anxiety woke him.
It hadn’t taken him too long to locate the ruby, the path of ruin that lay between it and him spoke volumes of whomever had altered it. The power, his power, was being used to strip humanity of their dreams and ensure their descent into pain and anger and panic. Outside the diner Dream felt her, here, but how? Why? With a simple instruction for his raven he entered the diner. “Wait here, Matthew.”
There sitting rigidly in one of the counter seats was Penelope. The blood was pungent in the air and though Dream hadn’t looked down at the bodies that lined the floors he knew that they’d died gruesomely. The man that had stolen his ruby and altered it stood, looking at him with a curious gaze, but he didn’t care, all he saw was her. When she turned in her seat and gave him a tense smile he nearly lost control of the tempered anger he’d been slowly burning away at. “You’re late.”
If there hadn’t been blood or bodies or a thief in their midst he would have chuckled, but he could hear the unsteadiness in her voice, could feel the clawing of old painful memories dragging down the walls she’d desperately tried to keep up to save her from the horrors they’d bring with them. So, as gently and as calmly as he could he uttered, “Are you hurt?”
“No.” If her answer had been anything different nothing would have been able to stop him from tearing every inch of this diner and the man within it to shreds. “But, I’m very confused as to what I’m doing here.”
“As am I,” he’d admitted, eyes looking away at the bodies and blood that were quite similar to what he’d seen in her memories. She now stood in front of him and he couldn’t help looking down the length of her in search of any mark or injury, nor could he help the lingering touch. “Are you alright?”
The weak nod she provided did little to calm his worry, but it was the glossiness of her eyes that told him everything he needed to know. “Wait outside with Matthew.”
Penelope looked at the door nervously. “Maybe I should just stick with you? The last two times I’ve tried to leave you I’ve ended up in a not so fun place… And the door might teleport me somewhere random again.”Again? She waved him off. “We can talk about that later.”
He took a step back and opened the door for her, eyes looking out into the parking lot before he gave her a nod. “Go, please.”
“Okay,” She grumbled. “But if I end up in some random shit hole you’d better come for me.”
He couldn’t help the tiny smirk and the wave of amusement that filled him. “I’m certain you’ll be fine for a few minutes.”
Dream watched her hop onto the hood of the nearest car and begin talking with his raven before he turned his attention to the thief, John Dee. John Burgess. He resembled his brother in their old age, but his eyes reminded him too much of Roderick. “Hello. I’m John. I’m glad you’re here. The power has gone out. So there’s no TV, and no one left to talk to now that our rude friend is gone.”
His jaw clenched at the implication that Penelope was in any way his friend. First he steals my ruby and now he intends to insult my lady? “What is it you think you’re doing?”
“Saving the world from its lies.” He believed he was truly saving them, Dream noted. The ruby had affected his mind from the start.
“The ruby wasn’t made for that.”
“Oh, you’re the Sandman. My mother was right in assuming you’d come for it, and our friend told me you would be coming.”
“You must return it to me so that I can repair the damage you have done.”
An offended look flashed in John's eyes. “I’m not giving it to you, it’s mine.”
“It is harming you, John, and your world.”
“It’s revealing the truth,” he persisted, but the sorrowful look on his face told Dream that somewhere deep inside John knew the truth of his words. “This is the truth of mankind.”
“No. You’re wrong. This is the truth of mankind.” Over his shoulder the vision of the diners' casual pleasantries played. Dream watched John's eyes flicker between the faces of those he’d driven to madness.
“They’re lying to themselves. It’s all lies.”
“Not lies, John. Dreams.” He corrected calmly. “Kate dreams of running away, where no one will find her. Garry dreams of proving his father was wrong about him. Bette dreams of creating something that matters to people. Their dreams inspired them. Their dreams kept them alive. But if you rob them of their dreams, if you take away their hope, then… yes, this is the truth of mankind. The ruby is hurting you, John. It has too much of my power within it. It stole more when I tried to use it.”
“Then perhaps if I use it to steal the rest of your powers, I will be the king of dreams.”
For a moment Dream felt afraid. He was weakened, and he had much more to lose than he had at the beginning of his quest. But, he pushed through it and said, “If you’d rob a Dream lord of his power, you shall do so in his realm. In dreams.”
Much like the dreams of his family line John Burgess dreamt of the mansion. Morpheus didn’t care to take in the details, focused solely on preparing himself for whatever fight John Burgess would give him, and when he finally broke free of the dreams hold and looked around at the crumbling ruins of his palace with a mocking cry, “Is this your palace… Dream lord? Is this your throne… King of Lies? Well it’s mine now!”
The walls around them coated in orange flames, devouring what little remained. “Are you watching? Can you see me? Using your own powers to burn away your lies?”
“You must stop,” He’d answered, appearing before him. “It is not too late to save yourself.”
“Oh, you think it’s me that needs saving?”
“Your father stole the ruby from me and cursed you with it.”
“You mean he blessed me with it. Your reign ended when my father captured you. Your kingdom is my birthright. Your power resides within me.” He could feel the ruby draining what remained of his power, his life as he sank to the ground curling in on himself. Yet, in spite of the pain, Dreams' thoughts were on Penelope. If she had felt the pain he did during his duel with Lucifer, she would certainly feel this as well. He was afraid. Afraid he’d fail her, afraid she’d come to try and save him and be lost again because of him. “How does it feel to know I hold your life in my hands?”
“You’re hurting the dreamers,” he managed to say. You’re hurting her.
“Well it’s time they woke up!” John shouted. “Your life and your lies end now.”
His hand closed tightly around the ruby, crushing it in his hand and releasing the power within it. Dream felt a rush fill him, his power - all of it returning all at once. In the palm of his hand John stood, praising his own victory before he noticed where he was. “Thank you, John.”
“But I killed you,” he said in a shaking voice.
“You destroyed the ruby and released the power inside it. I would never have thought of that. I’d forgotten just how much of myself I had placed in the jewel.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I could. Perhaps I will.” He thought for a moment, looking down at the worried face of the man who’d never truly been given a chance to thrive without his ruby’s influence. In spite of what he had done in the diner, and long before, Dream knew Penelope would choose mercy. If she knew what he did, saw the dark fester of corruption placed within John Dee by the ruby and the lies of his mother, she would spare him. And so, Dream said, “But the dream stone was not made for mortals. And it came to you through no fault of your own. So, no, John. I will not kill you.”
He took him back to the only true home he had, whatever facility he had been staying within before his release, and laid him gently back onto his bed. “Sleep well, John.”
He would not hurt anyone ever again.
***
I looked down at my arm, watching the black veins that had begun to spread a few minutes ago fade away, the pain had died down, now just a tiny fragment of the discomfort had remained. Matthew looked over my shoulder at my arm and sighed. “That’s probably a good sign, right? If you’re okay then surely the boss is too… right?”
“I don’t know,” I said worriedly. “I’m not sure how it works.”
The diner door opened and Dream stepped out into the chilled air shrugging off his coat. I jumped off the hood of the car and grabbed him. “Are you okay?” My eyes looked for any scratch or visible injury but found nothing. “What the hell happened?”
He draped his coat over my shoulders. “John attempted to use the ruby to steal what remained of my power. He failed and is now back where he belongs.”
“So, did you get your ruby back?” I asked, letting my hands fall away from him to greedily shove them into the long sleeves of his coat.
“In a sense. I retrieved the power within it.”
“Is that good?”
“The stone itself held little importance, my power was what I required from it.”
I nodded, rubbing my arms to help heat them. “Okay, well you got any more fun little scavenger hunts planned?”
He shook his head, his lips twitching as he made an effort not to smile. “No, this was the last.”
I hugged myself and smiled up at him. “Do you feel better then?”
“I do.” He admitted as we started walking away from the diner and the lingering smell of blood. The streets were littered with destruction, cars burning and trash blowing around, no doubt it was caused by John before he’d gotten to the tiny diner.
“All the damage the ruby did, can you undo it?” Matthew asked from the ground beside us.
Dream sighed. “The ruby didn’t do this. John merely used it to reveal wounds that were hidden, but never healed. Soon the rebuilding will begin. In this realm and in mine, but tonight at least, humanity will sleep in peace.” His gaze shifted back to me. “How is it you were not among the bodies in the diner?”
I leaned into him slightly as we walked and shrugged. “The ruby didn’t work on me. Got any idea what that's about?”
“I'm not sure,” he said. “But I am glad that it did not affect you.”
“Oh, were you worried about me Dream?” I said in a light tone, bumping him with my arm.
“Very.”
My heart fluttered at the admission and I smiled up at him. “It’ll take a lot more than a little jewel to take me out, Dream of the Endless.”
He stopped suddenly and I felt the rattling of his nervousness. “I would like you to accompany me, back to my realm.”
“I thought it needed to be repaired.”
“It does,” he said. “But I promised you a conversation.”
“I can wait a little longer, Dream, you don’t have to-”
“I also do not wish to part with you yet. Not after finding you at the center of danger twice now because of my absence.” He sighed and closed the distance between us, resting his head against mine. “It would ease my mind considerably if you remained beside me for just a while longer. But if you wish to return home I will escort you there and make certain you remain safe as best as I can.”
With a smile I said, “I am rather curious to see this famous dream world of yours, I hear it’s all the rage.”
Taking his sand from his coat he looked down at me with a tiny smile. “It is not yet returned to its former glory, but I think you’ll still find it to your liking.”
I put a hand over his pouch. “This isn’t going to send me somewhere random again, is it?”
“No,” he gently pulled me into him. “I will ensure you do not stray from my side again.”
“Good.” I whispered as heat flooded my face.
From the ground beside us Matthew tutted. “You’re gonna make sure I don’t get sent to any murder diners too, right boss?”
I closed my eyes as the sand moved around us, my hands clutching onto Dream’s arms as the spinning sensation washed over me and just as quickly faded away. For a minute I was scared to open my eyes as a light breeze caressed my face. “Open your eyes, Penelope.”
At first all I could see was the black of his shirt, but as I looked down at the ground black sand nearly engulfed my shoes. I lifted my head and looked out at the vast expanse of mountains and tall carved gates. I knew this place. I’d thought of it so often on those restless nights, desperate to dream. The sound of the ocean beating against the shore moved me from Dreams arms as I moved to get a better look at it. Tears began filling my eyes at the sight, it was far more beautiful than I could have imagined. With a bright smile I turned back to him. “How is this possible?”
Dream shrugged. “I don’t know, but I am glad to welcome you to The Dreaming.”
“It’s incredible,” I whispered, desperately trying not to cry.
“This is just one small piece of it,” He told me, a sense of pride filling me as he looked out at the ocean. “Soon it will all be as it should.”
“My Lord!” A voice called out. Beside me Dream moved to meet whomever it was trying to get his attention, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from the view. I never thought I’d get to see it, none of this.
Dream’s gentle hand on my arm pulled me at last from the ocean as I turned and met the eyes of a very surprised looking woman. She wore a fancy outfit that looked like a suit but far more embellished. The glasses hung low on her nose, causing her to push them up so she could stare at me in shock a bit more clearly. She was beautiful, everything about her elegant. “Lucienne, this is Penelope.”
Lucienne smiled at Dream first, before she smiled even wider at me. “Hello, my lady. It is an honor to meet you.”
I blushed at the fancy titles. “I’m hardly a lady, Penelope is just fine.”
“I was not expecting visitors, my Lord,” she admitted. “I thought something horrible had happened when you did not appear back at the palace. I am glad to see that I was wrong.”
Dream held his arm out to me. “Would you like to accompany us back to my palace?”
I nodded, probably a bit too eagerly. “Absolutely!”
“Unfortunately there is not much of it left, but I will repair it soon.”
Arm in arm we walked to the large gate, carved with details and images I’d never be able to imagine. Without thinking I reached out and ran my hand long it, jumping when the gates shook and began opening. From my side Dream said nothing, merely looked down at me with tender eyes. It was the first time I’d seen him look so relaxed, so happy. I liked it.
In the vast bleak distance a crumbling castle stood, the trees and fields all darkened and dead. It was a sad sight, but as we moved deeper along the path the forest and grass and plants seemed to start regaining their vibrant color until the entire path was beautiful and teeming with life. I left his side to look around in awe. “This is amazing, Dream.”
He and Lucienne stayed close to one another, occasionally speaking softly as I explored. At a slight fork in the path Dream and Lucienne continued on the main road, heading toward the palace, but as I wandered closer three little butterflies flew past my head and down the smaller path. With a tiny smile I followed them. After they led me out of the maze in Destiny’s garden I had to assume that they’d lead me somewhere important. The path widened and led across a small bridge, opening at the end to what looked to be a garden and two houses. The graves that lined the rim of the property were a bit startling, but the place didn’t feel ominous or dangerous.
Two voices bickered in the distance. “Cain! Cain come see, the trees have gotten their leaves back!”
“You’re seeing things again, you twat!”
“No I’m not! There's really leaves on them, and birds!”
As I moved past the still dead plants and looked around the large fountain at the center of the small courtyard I saw one of the figures. “Hello?”
He turned, startled, and looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh, he… Hello!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just following the butterflies and they led me, well here.”
The man quickly regained his composure, moving towards me with a beaming smile. “It’s quite alright! We haven't had guests in ages! Cain! Cain, come quick, there's a guest in the garden!”
Another man walked quickly from one of the houses, a pitchfork tight in his hand. “Abel I swear if you call me out here one more time I’ll-” His eyes grew wide at the sight of me and he looked at his companion. “There’s a guest in the garden.”
“I told you!” He cried cheerfully. “Forgive me, my name is Abel, the owner and keeper of the House of Secrets. It is a pleasure to meet you, uh, what is your name?”
“Penelope!” I replied offering him my hand.
He shook it happily and laughed. “Penelope! Oh it is very good to meet you!”
Cain shoved his way between us, shaking my hand gently but firmly. “I am Cain, owner and keeper of the House of Mysteries. Forgive my brother's unseamly manners.”
“It’s alright,” I insisted while looking around. “You have lovely homes, both of you.”
“Thank you! Apologies for the state of our garden. I’m afraid it’s been in a state of disarray for a century!” Abel said.
I shrugged off Dreams' coat, hugging it to my chest as I knelt down to inspect the flowers. My fingers gingerly touched the leaves and stems. “They’re not too bad, they just need a bit of love and attention.”
One of the butterflies fluttered from over my shoulder, landing on the wilted petals of the flower I held. It sat there for a long minute, beating its wings before flying into my hair. There right before my eyes the flower began to change, the darkened wilted petals twitched and began to regain their soft velvety feel and their pigment. Then, all around us the flowers began to come back to life. Water began pouring from the fountain and soon everything in the once dead courtyard breathed in new life. Cain and Abel looked around in awe before they turned to me. Cain spoke. “How did you do this?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I assured them standing.
Abels eyes found the black mark on my arm and he quickly elbowed his brother and mumbled into his ear, pointing slightly. Cain’s eyes went from annoyed to wide as saucers in seconds. Before I could ask if they were alright the two of them were bowing and speaking rushed apologies and praises of thanks. A flash of black filled my peripheral vision as Morpheus and Lucinne made their way across the bridge. Oh, right… I bit my bottom lip. I was supposed to be following them. At first Morpheus looked upset, but the expression quickly softened as the two of them took in the space and the still bowed and speaking brothers.
“Cain, Abel,” He called to them, finally snapping them out of their state and back up.
“Lord Morpheus!” They cried in unison.
He came to my side and I held his coat out to him. “I don’t think I need this anymore, the weather here is quite lovely.”
With a smile he looked to the sky. “Yes, it seems to be clearing up nicely.”
As he pulled his coat back on Cain and Abel approached. “Thank you, my lady!”
“Our garden has never looked more beautiful!” Abel insisted.
I smiled at the two and shrugged. “I didn’t do anything, I was just looking at the flowers.”
They looked at each other and then to Morpheus, who spoke first. “It seems you two have already been introduced to Penelope.”
“Yes,” they both said.
“She is quite welcome in the House of Secrets!” Abel stated gesturing to the house on the right.
Cain’s brows furrowed. “She’s also welcome in the House of Mysteries!”
I laughed at the two as more butterflies began filling the courtyard. Beside me, Dream looked around before looking down at me with a curious glint in his eyes. “I’m afraid tours of your houses will have to wait. We are going to attend to the palace now and then, I believe we are overdue for an important conversation.”
With a smile I nodded at him. “Yeah, we should probably get to that.” Turning to the brothers I shook both their hands. “It was a pleasure visiting, I’ll try to come back again for a tour of both your houses, they sound amazing.”
Each bowed once again. Cain spoke, “It would be my honor, my lady.”
Abel bowed lower and followed his words. “It would be mine as well, my lady, you are welcome anytime!”
With a gentle tug Dream led me back across the bridge and to the main path. “It seems Constantine was right to warn me of your talent for disappearing.”
I blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wander off. I was just following these guys.” I gestured to the butterflies that fluttered through the air around us. “They like to lead me places and are, I think, trying to be helpful.”
He looked at them before returning his eyes to me. “You know these butterflies then?”
“Don’t sound so sarcastic, Dream,” I said with a smirk. “They helped guide me out of your brothers maze.”
Dream stopped walking, his eyes clouding over with concern. “You were in my brother's realm? When?”
“A few hours ago. When things started getting weird at the diner I left, but when I opened the door and walked through I was in the middle of a hedge maze and the door kind of vanished behind me. These little guys led me to an opening where I ran into your brother, literally.”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “What did he say?”
I shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure, does he always answer questions by not really answering them?”
“Yes,” he said, continuing down the path. “I suppose he can be quite cryptic. Though I’m surprised he spoke to you at all, he does not interfere with the affairs of mortals.”
“Yeah, he told me that much. But he seemed to know me already,” I said thinking back on the encounter. “He said I’d been to his garden many times before, that I was smaller the last time he saw me. It was odd.”
Dream hummed, deep in thought. “I suppose a conversation with Destiny is overdue.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I answered. “You have a lot on your plate now that you’ve got your stuff back and besides, something tells me he wouldn’t really tell you much more than he did me.”
“Very well,” he looked down at me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No! He was quite polite. We had tea and snacks.”
“He offered you tea? Snacks?” He inquired with a hint of amusement.
“Is that not something he does often?”
“No, it is not.”
I shrugged. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m such good company.”
The fondness of his eyes nearly took me to the ground. "That you are, my lady."
Every time he said it a shiver ran up my spine and flooded me with heat. I knew he felt it by the too smug upturn of his lips. His eyes watched my reaction, the darkness drinking it greedily. I nudged him. "Cut it out."
"I have no idea what you are referring to."
"You're an ass," I whispered.
A few quiet moments passed before he asked, "So, you've met Destiny. Any other siblings of mine you know?"
"Your sister, Death," I replied. "She was there the night I pulled myself out of the river. And I don't really know who the others are, so I'm not sure."
Morpheus nodded. "When you said goodbye to me, that last time…" His jaw clenched for a moment. "I knew you weren't planning on coming back."
I looked up at him and smiled sadly. "I know. I felt it."
"I wanted to speak to you then," he admitted. "I wanted to tell you not to do it."
Guilt filled me, something that hadn't been his intention judging by the way he quickly tried to speak. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you…" I looked at the ground. "I honestly kind of thought it wouldn't have bothered you that badly."
"Why? Why would you have thought that?"
I shrugged. "You're you. You're a god, more than a god and I'm just me… Just a human. I figured to you I was just a spec in your endless lifetime."
He stopped, lifting my chin with his fingers. "Do you still think this?"
"No," I replied softly. "No, I don't. I feel it… What you feel for me, at least some of it."
"You are no minor spec, Penelope Barlow, you are every star in the sky, a galaxy in my endless lifetime."
I cleared my throat, wiping away the tiny tears that had begun to sting my eyes. "So, was that the only time you wanted to talk to me?"
"No," he smiled. "When you first called me Sandy I nearly broke my silence."
Laughing I wrapped my arm back around his. "Yeah, that's what it looked like."
"I also…" he paused, a tentative feeling pulling on his lungs. "When he told you to beg me… If you had, I would have spoken. I would have given him whatever he wanted if it meant keeping you from them."
I was crying now, as I looked up at the side of his face. Through a wobbling smile I asked, "Were you angry with me?"
Morpheus turned his head quickly and without breaking his stride wiped my tears and squeezed my arm. "No. I could never have been angry with you, Penelope."
I mean if we're doing the confessions now I might as well get it off my chest. "While I was… While I was there, I was convinced you'd hate me, or at least what I'd let myself become."
A bleak silence surrounded us for a moment as we slowly followed Lucienne down the path. "I have lived for a very, very long time. Over the course of my life I've hated many people and beings with ease. So, believe me when I say that I would never be capable of hating you. Never. You could single handedly destroy me and The Dreaming and I would not hate you."
I shook my head. "I would never!"
He nudged me gently with a soothing pulse lulling the guilt back to sleep. "Good, because I would truly find it difficult to feel saddened for my realm with the sight of you wielding my power before me."
A wave of that want we'd shared in Hell washed over me like ice water. I chuckled. "I mean, I can think of better scenarios for that."
"As can I," he replied, returning his gaze to the path ahead.
“So, is that something I’ll be able to do?” I asked once it seemed both of us had grown calmer. “Use your power?”
“I’ll admit, I’m not quite sure.” He answered. “There have not been pairings such as ours between a mortal and an Endless before. In fact such a thing should be impossible, and yet…”
“And yet, here we are,” I finished for him. “An odd pairing indeed.”
The words Lucifer had said resurfaced as I looked up at his relaxed features. Soul bound. I wanted to ask him what they meant… If they meant what I felt they did, but all the words I had ready in my mind faded once I saw the bridge. Two stone hands held it up out of the water, pieces of both were chipped or cracked, but the hands held the bridge firmly, refusing to let it fall into the water below. I let out a soft breath and shook my head as my eyes moved to the palace. Even crumbling and faded as it was, its beauty was undeniable. Faint glimmers of the golden domed rooftops caught the rising sunlight. The carved stone was dull and missing in large chunks but it reminded me of the statues of marble from Rome and Greece, no less beautiful even severed.
Beside me Morhpeus sighed. “Such a sorry display. I had hoped to bring you here after I’d finished repairs, but…”
I could feel his hesitation at admitting something so vulnerable in front of Lucienne, who’d stood patiently at the side of the bridge, waiting for us. “It’s beautiful, Dream. Even like this.”
His starry eyes glittered back at me as we walked across the bridge and to the large palace doors. Beyond them was a large empty room with a set of twisted stairs and at the top, lit by three broken windows was Dreams throne. For a moment I was overwhelmed by the fact that this was all real - all had been real the whole time. The man gently letting go of my arm to move deeper into the crumbling space was a king… an immortal one. As he stopped in the center of the room he took a deep breath and raised his hands. Beside me, Lucienne gripped her book tighter and held her breath.
I felt the power before I saw it. Strong, steady and raw. It was him, every last piece. The glass and rubble lifted into the air, tiny glittering particles of sand swirling around the room with them. All around us the air grew tighter, the mark on my arm sang along, reacting to the power, to him. Everything moved, restoring to its rightful place and above head the ceiling, or lack thereof, of stars seemed to grow brighter as the color of the palace, of The Dreaming, returned. Once everything was finished and Dream's arms lowered back to his sides a light huff of air escaped his lips. “At last, my palace is as it should be.”
Lucienne released the breath she’d held and smiled at him. “Is there anything you require of me, my Lord? A list of all that still needs repaired perhaps?”
“Later,” he replied, turning to her and gesturing down one of the long hallways. “For now, I think there is a specific task you should see to.”
With a smile and a look of realization she hurried down the hall, the two of us following after her. As soon as the doors opened and the large expanse of books and papers came into her view she made a soft noise. Her fingers ran along the bookshelves and she clutched her notebook to her chest. “My Lord…”
“Welcome home, Lucienne.” He said. “I thank you, for your unwavering loyalty during my absence.”
“Thank you, Lord Morpheus.” The smile on her face was one of unbridled joy as she leafed through the papers left on the desks and looked through the books on the shelves.
Once she’d moved far enough away Dream turned to me and gestured towards the table. “I believe it is at last, later.”
“So it is, Dream King.”
“Ask your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them.”
I laughed, leaning against the table instead of sitting. “I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning, then?”
With a nod I looked down at the mark, lightly tracing over the raven shape. “Was it a gift? Or was it an accident?”
Dream thought on the question for a moment. “Both, I suppose. While I did not give it to you knowingly, it is born of a sacred gift, one I could not control even if I’d wanted to.”
The words returned. “In Hell, Lucifer said that they heard rumors of you being soul bound to a mortal. Is that what this is called?”
“Yes. It is common among humans, though I believe the term is different. Mortals cannot see the mark that connects them to another, but given the oddity of our circumstance you and others seem to be able to see it as if it were a mere tattoo.”
“So, what exactly does it mean?”
He sighed softly, not out of frustration or annoyance, more out of mindfulness. He was thinking of what to say, how to say it so I would understand his meaning. So, I waited patiently. “Humans call them soulmates. Among the Endless and other beings it is called Soul Bound. Its meaning is different depending on the individuals, but the simplest answer I can give you is that you and I are bound together, soul to soul. Whatever it is that I am made of, you are too.”
The words I’d heard so long ago echoed in my head. “Two tethered stars…”
Dreams head tilted slightly. “Where did you hear that?”
“Right before I pulled myself out of the river, I heard a voice… I don’t remember exactly what it said, but I remember those words.”
He hummed in response. “An accurate phrasing I suppose.”
Destiny’s words joined all the others in my head. I cleared my throat and fidgeted with my fingers in front of me. “During my, uh, tea party with Destiny… He said that we were intimately acquainted… That such was inevitable when it came to us. Is that…” God, how do I put this without sounding desperate? “Is this pull between us just the mark?”
“No.” Dream replied, moving closer to me. “The mark binds us together, this is true, but it cannot make either of us feel things that are not already there. The… pull… That’s just how we feel.”
I blushed, chewing on my lip a little before saying, “It’s quite a strong pull.”
Dream chuckled, moving even closer. “They’re quite strong feelings.”
“Mine or yours?” I finally looked up at him, meeting the darkened gaze that bore down into me.
“I would argue they’re equals, as we are.”
“Equals? Does that mean I’m queen now?”
“If that’s what you wish,” he said, eyes falling to my lips.
I smiled, continuing my teasing. “Would I get a crown? You don’t have one.”
He made a noise, a huff and a chuckle. “I’ve not needed a crown, but I could make one for you if the queen is what you decide you wanted to be.”
“Maybe later,” I whispered, moving in closer to him, leaving just a small distance between us.
With a hum of acknowledgement he spoke, “I won my duel against Lucifer.”
My heart nearly stopped. “You did.”
“I believe I was promised a kiss.”
“You were.” My hands moved to smooth over his coat. “Would you like to be rewarded for your noble victory now, Dream Lord?”
“Yes.”
With an unbelievably smug smirk I lifted myself up, using his coat. “Very well.”
When our lips met it felt like a bolt of lightning had struck between us and we both pulled back a little breathlessly. My heart hammered in my ears as his hands pulled me impossibly closer, squeezing my side slightly and gently cupping the back of my neck, easing my head back towards his, easing our lips back together. It was soft, almost feather light, both of us testing the waters for a moment before his hand on my neck pulled me into a deeper kiss.
The slow, languid movements of our mouths were more intense than I imagined. I'd kissed people before, but while those all felt hollow and stiff this felt impossibly, unbearably deep. I felt the swell of emotions that built inside him and that he poured into the kiss. Everything was relaxed… Everything felt as natural as breathing, so much so I'd questioned why we hadn't been doing this the whole time.
In the distance a book hitting the floor pulled us away from one another. Dreams breath fanned across my face as he brushed his nose against mine before settling his forehead to mine. I swallowed, unclenching my hands from his coat. "Well, how was your reward?"
"Worth the wait," he said with a relaxed look on his face. "It will be your turn to ask for a kiss next time."
"Oh? You intend to make me beg you for a kiss?" I questioned, sounding far too breathless than I'd intended to.
Dream smirked. "Beg? No. Not yet at least."
I tried to mask the sharp breath I took. "You should know, Dream Lord, I'm not much of a beggar."
"A challenge?" He posed. "How refreshing."
Just as we stepped away from one another Lucienne returned with a stack of books in her arms. "Everything is just as I left it!"
"What are these?" Dream asked.
"A few volumes on soul bonds," she answered. "I figured you two would want to do some digging, seeing as this is the first record of this kind of pairing ever happening."
"Thank you, Lucienne." I grabbed a book from her pile, leaving through the pages carefully while Dreaming held his own book, but looked at me instead of the pages.
We sat across from one another, reading or at least I was, when I felt an odd sensation, like something tickling my head. "Can you hear me?"
My eyes flashed up to him from across the table. "I don't know, can you hear me?"
A grin flashed as his eyes slid down to his book. "I can almost always hear you."
"This is new," I noted, resisting the urge to scratch my head.
"Is it uncomfortable?"
"No," I insisted. "I kind of like hearing your voice in my head."
I could feel the thrill of my words rush through him. "Shall I repay the favor then? Give you a taste of what I've been enduring for the past day?"
"I have no clue what you're referring to, my Lord."
Eyes looked up from the book, gleaming with the challenge in my words. "Perhaps I should make you beg for a kiss, since you seem so persistent in trying to get a rise out of me."
I smiled, looking down at my own pages. "If I were trying to get a rise out of you I'd be thinking of much dirtier things."
"Like what?"
"The memories of you naked perhaps?" I bit my lip. "Or maybe your lips being put to better use than the pouting you do so often?"
Fire filled my chest, burning straight to my core. I adjusted in my seat, squeezing my thighs together trying to alleviate the sudden strong ache. Morpheus lowered his book just enough to flash his smirking lips at me. "Problem, my lady?"
"That's cheating, you ass."
Beside us Lucienne made a noise. "I’ve found something interesting, according to some reports, soul bound individuals might be able to communicate through your thoughts alone, how intriguing. Have either of you tried that?" We glanced at one another, my red cheeks were all the answers she needed as she shut her book and sent the two of us a glare. "You were just doing it weren't you?"
"Yes," he answered. "We were just… Testing the limits."
"You're going to end up right back in Hell for that," I joked, fighting a laugh.
Lucienne had promptly excused herself, leaving Dream and I to tease one another silently. Eventually we'd both grown tired of pretending to read and had instead started walking back to the throne room. As the dim light of the sun began to set out the large windows I sighed. "I should probably go home. Johanna is going to kill me for disappearing without warning."
Dream gently pulled me closer to him. "I'm sure Constantine will understand, given the circumstance."
"Understanding isn't exactly one of her strongest talents, especially since I’ve been gone for almost two full days.”
He pulled his pouch of sand from his coat. "I shall keep you safe from her wrath then."
"You sure you know how to use that?" I teased. "Wouldn't want to get lost."
"You're not letting that go, are you?"
"Not anytime soon."
"Fret not, you won't get lost, not with me beside you," he replied, his hand pushing me tighter against him. "But you should still hold onto me."
I regathered the front of his coat in my hands and tugged myself into him, just as we had been moments ago. His eyes flared, the darkness hungry and wanting as I murmured, "Like this?"
With a thoughtful noise his hand pushed me even closer to him. "Perhaps a bit closer."
"Better?" I asked, nose bumping his.
"Much." With his free hand he poured the sand, letting it swirl around us.
As the sand fell away, revealing the dark office in the apartment, neither of us moved, dared to break apart. I smiled at him, eyes flashing to his lips. "Thank you for bringing me back."
His eyes did the same. "It was a pleasure to have you, at last, visit The Dreaming."
"I had a wonderful time. Your realm is spectacular."
Our hot breaths swirled together. "You are always welcome to return. Anytime you wish."
Finally I lifted myself up higher on my feet. "Were you satisfied with your winning kiss, Dream of the Endless?"
"No." His voice was low, the power it held curling around us. "With you I doubt I ever will be."
Humming, I pulled on his coat more. "Maybe another will help?"
A smug smirk spread on those perfect lips. "Are you asking me to kiss you, Penelope?"
"Please," I breathed and in an instant his resolve was broken. His hand fisted into my hair, pulling me the rest of the way into his lips.
This kiss wasn't like the first, there was no tentative gentleness, no soft caressing. This kiss was fire, tongues and teeth and need. My hands moved from his coat to his hair, twisting into the dark locks and tugging slightly. When a soft moan escaped him I did it more, chasing the sound. With two long strides he had me pinned against my desk, the wood scraping against the floor, making us both pull away and look at one another, breaths heaving.
Wordlessly his hands gathered up the silky material of my dress, tugging it up higher, higher, higher until my bare thighs pressed back against the wood. His hands squeezed my sides as he lifted me, effortlessly on top of the desk, neither of us caring when a stack of folders fell off. I gasped at the feeling of his cold fingers dragging down my legs until they reached my knees and he pulled my legs further apart, slotting himself between them and leaning over me.
"If you want to stop," he began breathlessly, "You need to tell me."
"I want more," I replied in a heated groan.
"More," he hummed. "How much more?"
His hands slid up my thighs, under the silk, his fingers brushing my core, where I wanted him most. My sharp gasp filled the air between us as I pulled his hair. "All of you."
The stars in his eyes were gone, replaced by a hungry, consuming darkness. "As my lady commands."
His thumb brushed across the soft fabric of my panties once and then the sound of them tearing echoed in my ears and when he moved to do it again the fabric was gone. I let out a huff. "What if I liked that pair?"
"I'll get you another." He rasped as his thumb lightly glossed over my clit. My hands fell to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his coat, and my head fell back against the wall. Morpheus took advantage of the opening and pressed an open mouthed kiss to my throat, moving slowly to various spots, sucking hard enough to leave at least a few marks behind as his fingers mimicked the pace.
His free hand pushed my hair over my shoulder and pulled my sleeve down, latching his lips onto my shoulder and biting down hard. The moan that left me was louder than I was expecting, but any embarrassment I might have felt was burned away as his fingers pushed down harder and moved faster. My hips moved against him, trying desperately to quicken the pace, but before I could get too comfortable with the rhythm I’d created his free hand grabbed my hip and held me down against the desk. I whined softly. "Don't get greedy now, my lady, just take what I give you."
I huffed, pulling his hair and lifting his head from my neck. Lips against his I said, "I wouldn't have to be greedy if you'd give me what I want, Dream Lord."
"Very well," he whispered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he pressed a soft kiss to my lips just as his fingers dipped in between my wet folds, teasing for only a second before sliding in.
My eyes closed as he swallowed my moan with his kiss. His hand moved from my hip to my neck, tilting my head back and exposing my throat to him again. I gripped his hair in one hand and used his shoulder as leverage as I ground myself against his fingers. "Morpheus," I whined softly.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Johanna said with a whistle from the doorway.
I gasped as his fingers left me. "Johanna!"
Smirking, she held her hands up innocently. "Don't stop on my account, I just needed to grab this." She grabbed the hand crossbow and started out the door. "Glad you're not dead by the way! When you and your Sandman are finished I can give you a wallop for making me worry."
"Get out!"
"I'm going!" The door slid half closed behind her before she stuck her head back in. "Just a word of advice Sandman, she goes absolutely nuts if you-"
"JOHANNA!" I yelled, throwing the nearest object at the door just as it closed. Morpheus and I looked at one another for a moment before I slumped against his shoulder, giggling softly. "I'm so sorry."
He chuckled and rubbed my back. "Don't be, we probably should have checked to make sure we were alone before we engaged in our pleasantries."
"Pleasantries," I said, lifting my head to smile at him. "Does that mean you enjoyed it?"
"Was there any doubt that I was enjoying myself?" He asked curiously.
"No," I mumbled, playing with his coat. "I just don't want you to regret anything."
“Regret?” He lifted my chin and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "I could not regret any moment spent with you.”
I pressed my lips back to his, gently coaxing his mouth open and tangling my tongue with his. When we pulled away, I bumped my nose against his and smiled. "Does that mean you'll be back for another… Kiss?"
"Among other things, yes."
"When will I see you again?"
“Soon,” he assured, kissing me again before pulling back and pouring his sand into his palm. "Goodnight, Penelope."
"Goodnight, Morpheus."
Standing alone in the office was bittersweet. I was home at last, after a literal night in Hell and day stuck at some crazy diner and being teleported all over. It felt relaxing to be back in such a familiar space, but at the same time my body tingled at the emptiness it felt now that he was gone. I sighed and forced my slightly wobbly legs to move to the door and face the wrath Johanna had prepared for me.
I didn't even get fully out the door before the shoe hit me in the thigh. "Ow!"
"You wanna tell me what the hell just happened?"
"You interrupted a very heated make out session?"
She scoffed. "Make out session? Is that what you're gonna call it?"
"Shut up! I've walked in on you doing way worse!"
Johanna nodded. "Fair point. Now where the hell have you been?"
"Hell." I answered. "I got dragged to Hell last night. Then after a fun conversation with the devil our friend the Sandman showed up and tried to send me home with his magic sand. But, surprise twist, I wound up at some crazy American murder diner with a lunatic. Obviously I tried to get out of there as fast as I could and had a lovely tea party with the Sandman's brother, Destiny."
Silence. Then she whistled. "Fuck thats… Thats…"
"Absolutely insane?"
"Yeah that sums it up." She rolled her eyes and came closer, shoving my shoulder lightly. "Are you okay?"
I smiled. "A bit beat up but otherwise fine."
"Good, you scared the hell out of me… No pun intended."
"Well, now that you’ve promptly ruined my night and embarrassed me, I'm going to go shower because I smell like an egg."
Johanna laughed. "Try not to get dragged to hell or teleport!"
I flipped her off and headed to my bedroom. It felt strange being here after all I’d been through over the past day, but soon the comfort of having my things around me settled in. The space was small, as was common for an apartment I’d found, but I didn’t have many personal possessions so it was tidy and well organized. The bed was pushed against the wall opposite the door, with room on either side of it. A small window that looked down into the street was covered by white curtains and a little armchair sat snuggly in the corner with a pile of books on top of the worn cushions and a packed bag ready and waiting. It had been a long time since I needed to use the bag, Johanna had even suggested I unpack it at one point, but I never did just in case.
Grabbing a soft pair of shorts and a loose fitting shirt I headed to the bathroom, gently folding the dress Dream had changed mine into and putting it in my laundry hamper. My clean clothes sat on the countertop as I hopped into a boiling hot shower and finally felt the grime and stress slide off me. It was a wonder what hot water could do for a person, and after the day I’d had I needed it more than I thought. I spent a long time just letting the water massage my sore muscles before I eventually got out and got dressed.
A loud thump echoed in the living room, pulling a feeling of unease and perhaps paranoia into my chest. “Johanna, that you?”
No response. I grabbed the small blade out of my night stand and slowly opened the door, peeking out into the dark hallway before moving. The living room was only lit by one small lamp in the far corner and a sliver of moonlight from the windows. On the floor was a broken mug and a spill of whatever drink had been inside it, but no one was in sight. Maybe Johanna had been called out in a rush and knocked it over?
My gut tightened, warning me of the coming blow before I’d even seen it. Two large arms wound around me, crushing me into the body of my assilaint. Without hesitation I dove the blade into his arm and then quickly shifted my body weight, pulling me out of his loosened grip. From the floor I had more options, the knees tried and true. As my heel hit the side of his knee a sickening pop filled the space and he went tumbling down with a string of curses. One look at him and I knew exactly who he was.
“Adam.”
“Barlow.” He ground out through his clenched teeth. “Been a long time. So long I almost forgot what I bitch you are.”
“I could say the same to you. How many more did you bring with you this time?”
“With me? Just the usual bunch.” On cue two more people moved from the shadows.
I didn’t see their faces, I didn't need to to know who they were. “Lucy, Greg, I’d say it's good to see you but I don’t want to lie to people about to get their asses kicked.”
“Don’t make this difficult, Barlow.” The shrill voice of the woman said. “Elias is done playing games.”
“Yeah he’s not very good at them,” I responded coldly, shaking off the fear that the mere sound of his name filled me with.
“Fine, have it your way.”
As the two of them lunged forward toward me a crossbow bolt shot right over my shoulder and into Lucy’s eye. The shrill cries filled the room as Greg tackled me to the ground. Johanna ditched the crossbow and jumped over him, pushing his shoulder down into my knife. She leapt on top of Adam and with her own blade dug it deep into his throat. I pulled my knife up Gregs shoulder, hot blood splashing against my cheek. His hand wrapped tightly around my throat, squeezing so hard I could feel my blood moving beneath his fingers. With a quick pull and an even quicker push I forced the blade into his throat and twisted, holding it there until his grip went slack along with his body weight. Tossing him to the side I lay on the ground, gasping for air, attention quickly finding Johanna in the darkness as she was thrown onto the floor next to me by a very angry, half blind Lucy. I forced myself up, pulling her by the leg down onto the ground with us and Johanna without missing a beat finished the job. We both collapsed onto the bloody floor and let the silence wash over us. The adrenaline pulsed through me, keeping my body and mind from feeling the weight of what just happened.
"You gonna call him?" Johanna asked as she caught her breath.
"I'm gonna have to, aren't I?"
"Well I'm not cleaning this mess up."
I sighed pulling the phone from my blood soaked pocket. "He's gonna be unbearable."
"He's always unbearable," she argued. "Useful though."
I dialed the number with my stiff fingers. It only rang once before he picked up. "Ma moitié, it has been far too long!"
"Pierre," I replied with a sore smile. "It's good to hear your voice."
"I can say the same to you, but something tells me this is not a social call."
"Sorry, if you're busy-"
He scoffed. "I am never too busy for you my darling! How many this time?"
"Three. But I have a feeling they won't be the last."
"I will be there first thing in the morning, Ma moitié. Are you hurt? I can have one of my associates come for you."
"I'm alright Pierre," I said. "I've got Johanna with me."
A chuckle. "This is good! The witch is sturdy!"
I laughed and Johanna sent me a glare. "If he calls me sturdy at any point in your conversation I'll kick his French ass when he gets here."
"She has threatened to kick my ass, no?"
"Play nice," I said to both of them.
"I am always nice," Pierre argued. "Now, stay safe my darling I will see you soon."
"Thank you, see you soon."
I tossed the phone in the general direction of the couch and melted into the floor. There we lay, as we had so many times before, in a pool of blood in silence dreading where the next step would take us.
"Are you going to have to leave?" She said it so quietly I almost hadn't heard her.
"No," I replied. "I'm not running this time."
A soft, relieved sigh left her. "Good. As much as I hate to admit it, I'd miss my friend too much."
Friend such a simple word and yet from the mouth of Johanna Constantine it felt like the highest of praises. "I would have missed you too, Jo."
Groaning, she stood. "Don't get all sappy on me Barlow."
"I would never! Not when Pierre will be sappy enough for both of us."
She groaned again, moving toward her bathroom. As the shower started I felt the pain of the fight start to settle in. With a heavy sigh I put my hand over my heart, feeling its steady beating beneath it. I'm alive. I did my best to keep my thoughts from focusing on the lives I'd just taken, guilt and remorse swimming inside me, an untameable ocean that I was adrift on. So, I turned my thoughts to Morpheus, to the Dreaming that I'd only just returned from. Warm calm spread over me and the sound of echoing waves played in my ears and the sand beneath me felt warm. It felt so real, so soothing.
I dug my fingers into the sand and my eyes snapped open. This feels real. Sure enough I was back on the beach, black sand sticking to the spots of blood that coated me. How the fuck?
"Lord Morpheus has sent me to escort-" The sound of footsteps approaching had me whirled around, eyes meeting Lucienne's as she took in my bloody and disheveled appearance. "Oh! My lady, what's happened?!"
I smiled, an action meant to sooth her worry but with my current appearance probably only added to it. "It's nothing. "I, um, I'm not sure how I got here."
Lucienne approached slowly, almost looking as if I were some wild creature. "Lord Morpheus has a theory. He sent me to escort you to the palace."
"That would be much appreciated. Thank you Lucienne."
"Are you sure you're alright, my lady?"
"A bit of a tussle back in the waking world, but I'm fine." I said, pushing the pain that wracked my body down and desperately trying to avoid the pit of disgust and remorse that settled in my stomach.
She merely nodded before leading me back down the path that Morpheus had taken me down not long ago. As we neared the palace I felt him through the mark clearer and clearer with each step. The warm wave of his power soothing over me made me forget the forming bruises, the pain and blood and the building weight of what I’d done.
He stood at the top of the stairs, in front of the throne, leafing through the pages of a book. "When I said you were welcome back whenever you wished I didn't quite expect your return so soon. Though I suppose..."
His voice trailed off as he looked down at me. The glistening blue in his eyes quickly shifted with rage and I suddenly remembered what I looked like. Nervously I looked down at my sandy blood covered self. "Oh! I'm sorry for tracking all this sand through your castle."
Morpheus descended the stairs slowly, deathly calm. "Who did this?"
"Dream, breathe," I said, attempting to soothe.
His anger flared. "Who?"
When he finally stood in front of me I smiled at him and placed a gentle hand on his jaw. "Breathe. I'm alright... It's okay."
His eyes trailed over every new mark that I'd gotten from the fight, but they stayed locked on the forming hand shaped bruise that covered my throat, that lapped over the small marks he'd left there just hours ago. "Okay? No. This is far from okay. Tell me who did this so I can see that they shall never awaken."
"That's not a problem." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Johanna and I already took care of it."
His eyes only softened slightly. "Are you hurt?"
"No, the blood isn't mine." I answered, melting into his chest and breathing in his comforting scent. Tears pricked the edges of my eyes as I said as solidly as I could, "I don't know how I got here, but I'm really really glad to see you."
His arms were around me in an instant, his hands not shying away from the mess of sand and blood. "I have you."
"I'm sorry," I mumbled into his chest. "It's probably very annoying having me getting into constant troubles."
"It is, but that's not your fault." He said as he lifted me into his arms. "For now let's get you taken care of."
I didn’t register us moving, maybe we hadn’t, but when he pulled away we were in a different room. Large stained glass windows illuminated us in color. I was about to ask him where we were when I saw the large silk adorned bed and the realization hit me, along with the obvious blush. This is his room. It was clean and held very little in it, which for Dream only made it feel more like his. He moved through the room with ease, though he was far from relaxed. His shoulders were stiff and the muscles in his jaw were strained by how hard he was clenching it.
“Morpheus,” I said softly. If he’d heard me he didn’t react, waving his hand and a large bathtub appeared, already filled with hot water, bubbles and flowers. I smiled a little at how much thought he’d put into such a mundane thing. Body still stiff as I moved closer to him, a gentle hand rubbing along his shoulders. “Morpheus, I’m alright.”
He turned to me, eyes swimming with anger and guilt, his emotions burning between us. “Forgive me.”
“For what?” I asked softly.
“I should have stayed, should have made sure you were safe before departing. I should have left Matthew with you at the very least.”
I stroked my fingers along his jaw. “Breathe.” Pulling his hand to my chest I let him feel the beating of my heart beneath the skin. “I’m alive. I’m here.”
His forehead pressed against mine. “May I help you undress?”
“Oh you’ll have to, I’m quite stiff.” I said lightly.
If he had been anyone else I would have felt embarrassed, weak, at the very feeling of his light caresses and soft kisses as he undressed me slowly, though if the magic tub appearing told me anything he didn’t need to go through all the effort of physically undressing me, instead he chose to, which only further proved that Dream of the Endless wasn’t anyone else. I felt safe, comfortable, unbearably adored. It was different… As he helped ease me into the warm water I looked up at him and felt a pang of guilt fill me. He had so much to do, taking care of me was probably the biggest bother. He pulled his coat off, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sat next to the tub and moved my hair from my face. “Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop thinking you’re a burden to me.” His voice was soft, far too soft. “If I had anything more important I would be doing it. But this, you, are the most important thing in my realm currently.”
I sighed. “I’m still sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about me every time you leave.”
Dream slowly began rinsing my hair out, working his fingers through to detangle the sticky strands coated with sand and blood. “I know what it feels like to lose you, Penelope.” My breath caught in my throat. “I know what this world feels like without you in it and so I will worry… Not because I think you are fragile, or incapable, but because I do not wish to ever feel that emptiness again.”
I leaned into his hands. “I… I’m sorry that I put you through that.”
His blunt nails scratched my scalp, pulling some of the tension from my body, and he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “No more apologies, just relax.”
“If I relax anymore I’m going to fall asleep,” I mumbled as his hands moved to wash my face off. I looked up at him with a tired smile. “Is this how you do your sandman thing? Hot baths and scalp massages.”
He chuckled, the rigidness of his body slowly starting to ease. “No, nothing so intimate I assure you.”
“Oh, so I’m just special then?”
“Yes.”
After all the blood and grime was washed off me Morpheus wrapped me into a soft, warm towel that I just knew by the feel of it had been made with magic. He then redressed me in clothes similar to the ones I’d arrived in, but softer and clean. I was so tired I just leaned against him, snuggling into the coldness of his skin. I didn’t remember him taking us back to the apartment, but there we were, him moving around my room to tuck me under my covers, and me keeping a firm hold on him for fear he’d simply vanish.
“Will you stay with me?” I whispered, eyes far too heavy. “Just for a little?”
Morpheus joined me on the bed, pulling me into him the second he got settled. “Of course I will.”
I lifted my head from his chest and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one he returned. “Goodnight, Sandy.”
“Given your sleep deprived state, I’ll let that go just this once. Now, go to sleep, Penelope.”
Even with the bodies and blood no doubt still in the living room and the ever present weight of what this attack meant lingering in my bones, I slept. It was the first time in a long time I felt truly safe, truly at peace.
TW: dragged to Hell, blood, gore, violence, witnessing attempts of suicide, mentions of nudity, protective!Dream, we're in Hell y'all, buckle up it's gonna be a ride! 😈
Chapter 7: Hell Has 1825 Doors
Morpheus couldn't take his eyes off of her as she stepped out into the downpour of rain and smiled at him. She was so beautiful, far more than he'd remembered. Everything about her felt like it was part of some dream, one of his own making. She was warm and bright, smelled of lilac and peonies and rain, she was kind and thoughtful and far too good for him. Penelope Barlow, the girl he shared a bond with, the girl that had tried to free him, the girl whose smile and eyes held the entire night's sky within them… the girl he adored with every part of him was far, far too good for him. It was so much easier to love her when she was dead… Easier because he didn't have to fight against it every second. Now, standing with her within his reach he struggled to resist pulling her into his arms and never letting go.
He watched her twirl and laugh as she danced through the courtyard, a sight he never thought he'd get to see. He watched her until she disappeared beyond the buildings and went on her way back to her home. Home. He thought, reminding himself of her life here, the life she deserved to live without him complicating it more than he already had. Roderick Burgess may have been her captor, but he had been the one that doomed her to share in his isolated torment. Dream didn't care that it had been out of his control, he only cared about the part he had played and in his mind that made him just as bad as the all the others that had hurt her. He would make up for it, he'd decided not long after she'd given him Jessamys' ashes, that he would not allow Penelope to lose anything else because of him. Even if it meant he had to swallow his heated thoughts and push the constant ache for her touch down into the depths of his shattered soul.
From the ground beside him Matthew cawed. "So… You and Penny?"
"I am not discussing this with you..." He replied harshly before adding, "There is nothing to discuss."
"Riiighht, whatever you say." His annoyingly mocking tone had Dream sending the bird a pointed glare. "So, what's our next move?"
"I am going in search of my helm. And you are going back to the Dreaming."
"Or, hear me out, you can take me with you and we'll never have to have this conversation again!"
"That does sound tempting," he admitted when something occurred to him. Lucienne. He'd already spent a century away from home without giving her any warning or explanation. Looking down at the raven he decided, I will not risk abandoning her with no warning again. Kneeling down in front of Matthew he said, "In fact, where I am going I may have need of you."
This visibly caused Matthew to perk up. "Yeah? Where are we going?"
"Hell."
"Hell. Hell as in Hell-Hell or are you being metaphorical? Either way we should probably check in with Lucienne first right?" He chuckled nervously. "See how she's feeling about it. I'm gonna go out on a limb, which is something birds actually do, and say she will not be in favor of hell going."
Standing he retrieved his pouch from within his coat, pouring it out over his palm watching the bird ramble on as the sand swirled around them. "Buuutt I don't get the sense that you're listening so fuck it, let's go to hell!"
As soon as Dream's feet hit the dry ground he could feel it, an unnerving scream forced down the bond, and the mark on his wrist ached in a way that made his stomach twist. Something was wrong, and as he looked out over the vast ash covered realm that was Hell, he had a strong suspicion as to who was responsible.
***
Lucifer Morningstar. The devil stood before me clothed in white robes with great bat-like wings spread out on either side of them. As I looked up at their face through the fire that stood between us I realized why Lucifer had been God's favorite. They were so beautiful, their skin smooth as marble, their heavenly eyes, golden hair that curled around their face. They looked angelic, all except their smile… The cold upturn of their lips held no joy, at least not true joy, only the mocking facade of it.
They moved gracefully, like the flames of the fire, as they tucked their wings in and stepped around the table, moving closer to me. With one mere twitch of their fingers two demons pulled me up from the ground, their hands course and their grip far too tight. A finger lifted my chin and their eyes examined my face closely. "Such a beautiful thing you are. So bright, even here, even after everything that's tormented you. Tell me your name, mortal."
My mouth stayed closed. Out of defiance perhaps, or more likely it was simple fear that stilled my tongue. Their smile widened. "It appears the mortal needs encouragement."
A gnarled hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing and lifting me up off the ground. In a voice that made my ears ring it spoke a simple command, "Your name."
The grip loosened ever so slightly, only enough for me to suck in a tiny breath. "P…Pe… Penelope."
Lucifer waved their hand and I was dropped to the ground, gasping for air. When I looked back up a woman stood in front of me, silver plates of armor glistened in the firelight, dark hair falling over her shoulder and the entire left side of her face melted and burnt away to the bone. Without a word she grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet before following Lucifer to the other side of the table. They beckoned me with a finger, but before I could move on my own one of the demons had grabbed me and thrown me into the side of the table.
My ribs cracked, if not snapped, and all the breath was sucked from my lungs and I held onto the edge and gasped. "Sit." The demon growled. Slowly seating myself in the chair beside me I glared up through the now dwindling fire at the now pleased grin of the devil as they took a seat opposite mine.
"I must say I'm... Disappointed." Lucifer said with a sigh. "You don't seem nearly as frightened as I'd hoped."
"Oh I'm terrified," I admitted. "I'm in hell, getting thrown around by demons and having a conversation with the actual devil."
They tilted their head. "Yet I see no tears, hear no begging!"
"I'm not much of a beggar," I said, trying not to focus on all the horrible possibilities this meeting of ours could end with. "And I have a feeling that if you'd wanted me dead or strung up and tortured we wouldn't be sitting here. You want something."
They restrained a smile. "Clever, aren't you?"
"No, not at all. You're just making it obvious."
The fire in the room roared. "I'd heard the rumor ages ago, the great Dream of the Endless soul bound to a mortal girl, a preposterous thing." Soul bound? My mind caught the words and clung to them. Now wasn't the time for questions, but later… If there would still be one. "Still, I was curious and I sent my demons to see if these rumors had any merit. For years nothing and then all of a sudden… You. All it took was one bump to the shoulder and there you were."
My jaw clenched at the recollection of last nights near accident on the sidewalk. The demons guttural groans echoed as he, they, moved to stand behind me. "I'm still confused as to what I have that you want."
"Oh nothing!" They laughed lowly. "But you do make a lovely piece of bait for our dear sweet Dream. He's on his way here now, and I wanted to have something grand to greet him with."
"He's not stupid enough to fall for that."
Lucifer pursed their lips. "You don't know how important to him you are do you?"
"Not more important than saving his realm."
"We shall see." They motioned again. "Sagthes, please prepare our guest for The Journey."
Before I could ask what they meant a heavy mass slammed into the side of my head, knocking me out.
***
They had followed Squaterbloat, played his games with the forests of mists and bodies and Nada, until, at last they came to the path to the palace. If Dream hadn't been angry before he certainly was now. The memories of Nada curling around him like a thorned vine, squeezing a part of him that still felt love for her, a part of him that regretted his cruel response to her refusal. It hadn't bothered him before, not like this, not at all, but things had changed since then. It was now more clear than ever as to why he and Nada could not have been together.
For all he'd loved about her, for everything they'd been to one another Nada though strong, wise and everything he had wanted would not have truly been his equal, nor had she wanted to be. Dream knew, somewhere deep down that Nada had never desired eternity with him, or perhaps eternity at all. She did not want to be a goddess nor did she want to be his queen and he hated her for it as much as he hated that he let himself be so hurt by her refusal. He also knew somewhere deep down that his siblings part in their relationship had caused at least some of this outcome, but the decision of her fate had been his. Nada would have been a great lady and queen, but she would not have been his lady, his queen. Those titles belonged to another.
He saw now, more clearly than ever, that Nada had not been forever. None of his past lovers had. Penelope, however much he wanted to keep her far from him, he could not deny was something… Someone that would be. He felt it through their bond, her undoubting and unwavering feelings for him. If he asked her for forever she would say yes, but he would never ask… He could not. Her usual hum of strong emotions had gone silent since they neared the palace. Whatever game Lucifer was playing, Dream feared he'd have to play along. His only hope now was that this game was one he could win and one Penelope could survive.
He entered the mountain palace with an iron grip holding his anger in check. No matter how badly Dream wanted to storm the palace, demand the release of that which belonged to him and kill any that had even dared to breathe the same air as her, he could not. He was a guest, above that he was weakened. He ascended the stairs to the large circular room and through the fire Lucifer's tall wings and white garb stood out against the grey skies and black rock.
He clasped his hands together in front of him, gripping them tightly as he said, "Hello."
Wings turned as Lucifer smiled at him. Wordlessly they descended from the balcony, dimming the fire of the large round table in the center of the ornate room, and stood in front of him. "Hello, Dream."
"Greetings to you, Lucifer Morningstar." He said calmly, every inch of him vibrating with the want to say her name, to demand her safe return to his side. His eyes shifted to the figure lurking behind one of the tall gold adorned pillars. "And to you Mazikeen of the Lillim."
"Greetings, Dream Lord," Mazikeen said.
Lucifer smiled. "You look well, Dream. Are you well? And your family, Destiny, Death, Despair, and the others?"
His smile was tight, forced. "I presume the Ruler of Hell knows this is no social call."
"Have you come to join forces then?" They tilted their head slightly. "To ally your realm to ours? To acknowledge the sovereignty of Hell?"
Do they truly intend to draw this out? He thought his jaw clenching. "You know my feelings on that, Lightbringer."
"Feelings change. Especially when one has been caught and imprisoned by mortals. We expected better of you, sweet Morpheus."
"I have come because my helm of state was stolen from me. I believe one of your demons has it. I should like it back, along with the mortal you've taken." His voice strained as he tried to sound calm. "Now."
"We've taken many mortals, which is it you're searching for?"
He strangled a low growl. "You know which one. The girl."
They tilted their head. "Her name, Dream... Say it."
"Penelope."
Their wide smile and a fake look of sympathy nearly sent him over the edge. "Oh, Dream, if only it were that easy. But, there are rules, you see, protocols that must be followed." They turned, moving back toward the fire. "Which will come first I wonder? Your helm or the girl?" He stiffened. "Such a pretty thing she was."
"Where is she?" His words were dark and angry.
Lucifer turned to him, still smiling. "Why, she's here… Resting."
He took a step up forward bringing Mazikeen out into the light. "What have you done to her?"
"Is she what you wish to discuss first then, Morpheus? Not your helm?"
"Yes." He answered , his voice laced with the anger he felt. "Now tell me what you've done with her."
"The girl is safe, for now." They said. "But, I'm afraid our laws demand a challenge be completed to buy her freedom."
"You dare abduct my lady from the waking world and then demand I play your games to win her freedom?" He seethed.
"Lady?" Lucifer questioned with a quiet chuckle. "Was this title officially bestowed?"
Damn them. "No."
"Then we have broken no laws, and this is one of ours, Dream. The laws of Hell do not bend for you." Lucifer did not budge.
"She may not have the official title of my lady, but she is still soul bound to me. That law you have broken."
A soft hum. "Perhaps. If it's only her body you want, you may take it with you upon your departure, but her soul will remain with me unless it is won."
Disgust roiled in him hearing them speak of her as if she was nothing. He ground his teeth, doing all in his power not to let his face show his rage or his fear. "What challenge would you have me complete then?"
"An old one." They said, "One of our oldest."
Off to where the side room had been now stood a path leading to a metal door with the number one scratched into it. He stepped closer to it, the pit of fear sinking lower. "The Journey."
"Yes, one of our favorites, though it never lasts long. Most mortals don't survive past door two."
"How many?" How much pain would she have to endure, survive, to at last be back beside him?
"1825." Lucifer said, the joy clear in their tone. "Your Lady has quite a lot of tormented memories."
Five years, he thought. The years still missing in their history, the ones that it seemed were too painful for her to even think of. If they were anything like what he'd witnessed in their shared prison of the Burgess home this was going to be difficult indeed. "Tell me the rules then, Lightbringer and let us get on with it."
"It's quite simple, at the end of the doors lies your lady, all you have to do is walk forward. If you lose yourself to her memories you'll both be trapped within them indefinitely. If you reach the end and she has died you will be free to go, but she will remain." They chuckled softly. "On the off chance you both manage to survive, her freedom will have been won. Do you accept our terms?"
"I accept," he said, moving to approach the door.
"Good luck to you, Dream. And to, Penelope."
As he walked the landscape stretched into a well tended lawn and a long straight pathway leading up to the brick building he could only assume was the asylum. It was larger than the Burgess mansion and looked well kept, if he hadn't known better he'd think it a normal facility, but the memory of her manic laughter and disheveled appearance was forefront in his mind.
Beside him Matthew hopped along the path. "Are we really gonna do this? You don't think this is kind of... I don't know, an invasion of Penny's privacy?"
"It may be," Dream said roughly, unable to think of how she would feel about such painful things being revealed to them without her say so. "But it is the only way to free her."
A loud caw echoed. "What is this place anyway?"
For a moment Dream had forgotten the raven wasn't with them in the years in captivity. "An asylum for the insane. Our shared captor, Roderick Burgess, sent her here when it became clear she'd no intention of helping him."
"Okay… That sounds pretty bad, but what happened here that makes it Hell worthy?"
"I do not know."
"So we have absolutely no idea what we're walking into?" Matthew sighed. "Perfect."
The door stood before them and with one last look to the raven Dream said, "Prepare yourself, whatever lies beyond these doors we cannot let it consume us. These are memories, the past, and nothing we do will change them."
That would be more difficult that the dream king imagined. As the metal door swung open with an eerie creak the white walls and shining floors echoed with the wails and screams of the poor souls damned here. It wasn't unlike Hell, a Hell for the waking world. Beside him Matthew cursed under his breath. Dream felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of Penelope running frantically down the hall towards him. The other patients either cheered her on or chanted for her to fall. It took everything in him not to open his arms to her as she drew closer.
She looked so afraid, so desperate as she dodged the tall men in white for as long as she could before they grabbed her and threw her to the ground. The whole vision around them shook and the next door appeared beyond the sight of her thrashing and biting and screaming. Dream walked around them and went through the next door, relieved to find himself in a normal looking room, less so to find Penelope curled into the corner.
The door opened and a man in a long white coat entered, fixing his glasses and looking at the paper in front of him. "Ms. Barlow?" She only answered him with a glare. "My name is Doctor Elias Shenton. I'm here to help you get better."
"I'm not sick." She spat.
"That may be so, but your behavior as of late certainly doesn't reflect that." He looked down at his papers again. "Twenty escape attempts in the last two months, five stabbings, twelve broken bones and the list goes on."
Dream felt the echo of pride. The doctor stepped closer and knelt down with a smile. "I do not think you're sick, Ms. Barlow, but I do think you're special."
They walked through the next door as the room shook and horror filled him. Penelope was strapped to a table, a gag of some sort in her mouth, trashing and clawing in attempts to escape while the doctor stood at the top of her head, holding two rods that connected to an odd little machine. The doctor smiled at her and he felt the rage in him triple. "You'll want to bite down on that hard Ms. Barlow, this can be quite uncomfortable."
The instant the rods touched her temples her entire body seized and he could feel the current rush through him, stealing the breath from his lungs. The door appeared and Dream made his way to it instantly. He had to see more, had to know what they had done to her, all of it. Door after door the same mistreatment. Starvation, beatings, shock treatments, isolation, so many drugs he'd lost count. It wasn't until door fifty that things changed for the worse.
This time when he opened it the first thing he saw was blood, her blood. They were cutting her open, testing the limits of healing they'd discovered in their other cruel acts. Dream looked down at her face, unconscious but only barely. His gaze turned to the doctor who raved about how miraculous the disturbed operation was. He clenched his fists and took a step towards him when Matthew cawed, "We can't change anything, remember? This has already happened boss, we need to keep moving forward if we want to help her."
Matthew was right. He could not hurt this man. Not yet at least. He could not save her from this torment because she had already been through it. She had survived, he told himself, trying to keep the thought in his mind to help push him through. She was alive and waiting beyond these doors, he just had to keep going forward.
Now behind every door was one grotesque operation… Experiment after another, all to see what made Penelope different. Behind every door was the sounds of knives slicing her skin and her blood spilling to the floor. Door after door the sound of the doctor's voice speaking about Penelope as though she was nothing more than a pig brought before him for slaughter. Door after door Morpheus felt his anger knot and twist inside him. He watched every memory, committing all that took part in her torment to his own. If any of them still lived they would pay, he would see to it personally.
Door three hundred and seventy four was when things descended further. The drugs had now stopped working, so in the middle of every procedure Penelope awoke and felt every second. This time they used a hand drill, held by a shaky intern, to dig into her back. This time when she woke her scream was one he'd only heard before here in Hell itself. Still they pressed on. He tried not to feel the deep ache that filled him at the sight of her losing her will to fight, to live door after door.
The sight before him, like all the others, was one of blood and pain and torment. Is this what lay behind all the remaining doors? he wondered looking down at the vision, the memory, of her strapped to the table screaming. With a deep sigh he reminded himself of his purpose and turned towards the door. Her hand shot out and grabbed his, her grip was tight, desperate. It felt so real that for a moment he'd forgotten it wasn't. "Please..." His heart broke at the sound. "Please kill me..." With tears in his eyes he pulled his hand free, moving for the next door as her wails echoed behind him. She is alive and waiting for us. He had to keep repeating it to himself to make his legs move forward, to not turn and go to vision of her.
The shaking of the memories had grown constant and so strong he could scarcely walk. Penelope was holding on, but the pain was too strong for even her to ignore. So he continued, pushing forward through the blood and the screams until one memory made him stop. She was in her cell, beating her head against the wall, throwing all her body weight into every motion until blood began to paint the space behind her. She continued, a determined look in her eyes that Dream feared. He wanted to tell her to stop, wanted to console her, but knew he couldn't. The white coats stopped her, but he knew this would not be the only time he'd have to watch her attempt to take her life. Beside him Matthew whispered a quiet, "Oh god."
Door five hundred and one. This memory he knew would plague him for the rest of his life. The doctor and his staff had left the room, Penelope lay, tube shoved down her throat and head bound in place, her ribs practically exposed as they poked and prodded at her lungs. Above them a hazy vision of the night sky swirled. When she broke her hand free of the restraints and grabbed the small blade Morpheus almost looked away, he almost had to. When she dug the blade into her own arm his eyes closed tightly, tears escaping down his cheeks. The scar on her arm that she'd tried to hide from him in Constantines' office had been carved by her own hand. The shame, the fear, he'd felt then made sense now.
She had spent all those years away enduring a fate far worse than he could have ever imagined, a fate that made Rodericks barbaric beatings seem like a blessing… A fate worse than death. Every door only added to the well of anger he'd built over the last eighty years, so much so that every part of him longed for the moment his power was restored and he could hunt down every last one of these monsters. He would show them what fear was, what pain was. Every scar they gave her, or forced her to give herself they would pay for.
Finally nearing the end, door one thousand eight hundred and ten revealed her father, old and worn with leathery skin and a receding hair. He was exactly how Dream pictured him, a miserable and hollow shell of a man that used fear and threats to intimidate his way to power. Not unlike Roderick. He watched him spit threats down at Penelope, her arms bound to her sides and ankles shackled to the bedpost. He watched something pass on her face, a fleeting rage, before she sat up and tore his throat open with her teeth. For the first time in ages he saw that fire return to her eyes, and while the sight of her covered in blood made the guilt and pain in him twist further, he was proud. Even after all the horror and pain she still held that fire, it was a feat not many could claim.
At last the final door. It began the same as almost the others, blood and screams and insane ramblings, but this one ended with Paul. As he watched the memory, listened to her as she fought and pleaded with Paul to let her free the sandman, him. "I tried to bargain with them for you too." He had much to make up for, much to repay and so as Morpheus turned to the last unnumbered door he made a silent promise to himself and to her. Never again will she be alone. Never again would she have to plead to anyone for anything.
The visions faded away as he opened the door to a decrepit garden covered in frost. There in the center, naked on an altar with gnarled vines and twisted roots wrapping around her lay Penelope, pale, bruised and covered in dead leaves and ash. As he drew closer the vines and roots unwound and slithered away from him. He looked down at her, fear filling him. Had he been too late? With gentle hands he lifted her head, cradling her face. Her lips were practically blue and her skin felt ice cold, even under his touch. "Penelope."
A small breath filled her lungs as her eyes opened ever so slightly. "Dream…" Her lips curled into a weak smile as her body trembled. "I knew you'd come."
He smiled as he pulled away and shed his coat, wrapping her in it tenderly. "For you, nothing could keep me away."
Lifting her into his arms he let out a relieved sigh at the feel of her curling into him. She was alive. She was back where she belonged and he'd be damned if he ever let her go again.
***
The pain of the memories faded with each step Dream took with me curled into his arms. He was warm, which was weird for him, but I pressed further into it anyway, my forehead practically glued into the side of his neck. Eventually the ground shifted from ash to black stone and heat wrapped around us, burning against my skin.
"I'm impressed," Lucifer's voice sent a shiver down my spine and Dreams' arms tightened around me. "No ordinary mortal would have survived such horrors. She is truly special, your lady."
"I need to attend to her, then I shall have words with the demons that left these marks upon her skin, as your laws say is my right." His voice was raw power. "And then, Lightbringer, we will discuss the return of my helm."
"But of course, Dream. My side room is open to you and the needs of your lady." Though the words were kind, the tone of their voice was angry and tense. Their plan hadn't played out and Lucifer was pissed.
Once in the next room Dream addressed Matthew, who'd been silently following us the whole way back. "Go wait. Keep them out until we return."
"You want me to keep the devil out of a room in their own palace," he questioned. I assumed the glare Morpheus gave him was what changed his tune as he followed with, "I, uh, I'll do my best."
"Can you stand?" He asked me, throat vibrating against my head.
I nodded, pulling away and letting him set my feet on the warm floor. My legs shook a little, but Morpheus kept me from falling. He moved only slightly when he was certain I was steady, his eyes roaming over me as I clutched his coat in my fingers. A fleeting feeling of contentment and longing filled me before being replaced by the storm of rage that filled him, but before I could ask he moved to a table where the blood stained and torn up remains of my dress, necklace and shoes sat.
"May I?" He asked, gesturing to the clothes, his voice almost a whisper.
I nodded again, unable to form the words, unable to comprehend that Dream of the Endless wanted to help with such a lowly task. He pulled me closer to the table and moved to stand behind me, a gesture meant to help soothe my nerves no doubt. He slid his coat off my shoulders with a gentleness I was still so foreign to. The air around us stung, the warmth of the fires still trying to heat my chilled skin. I curled my arms over my chest, naked and exposed and vulnerable in front of him.
If this had been different I would have made a joke, something to try and unwind the tight knot of rage that had settled in my stomach, his rage. He'd grabbed what remained of my tattered dress and held it behind me for a moment, when it came back into view it was changed, a simple gown of pale blue silk. I wanted to ask how, but quickly forgot the question as he pressed a kiss, soft and warm, to the long jagged scar along my shoulder. That kiss solidified the fear I'd been trying not to let consume me. He'd seen it. He'd seen all the memories that had plagued me on that altar.
I swallowed a hard lump as he helped ease the dress over my head and helped pull my arms through the thin sleeves. He kept my right arm in his hand and lifted it so he could press a long kiss to the scar from over my shoulder. A shuddering breath left me. Did he pity me now? Did seeing the insanity I'd fallen into make him think less of me? Were the attempts I made to end my life enough for him to hate me?
He moved to stand in front of me, sliding my necklace over my head and pressing another kiss to the scars Roderick had left on my neck and collarbone before he sank to his knees. One of his hands, now beginning to feel cold against my warming skin, gently lifted the hem of the dress up and cupping the back of my leg to examine the long scratches that marred the skin. He hummed, a noise that sounded like a strangled growl as he pressed his lips to my thigh, earning a sharp gasp I hadn't been able to contain. "I shall see to it that this offense is answered."
With a gentle wave of his hands I felt a soft thread wind around my calf, wrapping the cuts gently. He grabbed my shoes off the table and slid them onto my feet, using whatever magic he had been to turn them into more comfortable flats. This was too much. It had to be out of some sense of pity or an attempt to ease the blow of his coming disgust… something other than what was obvious. As he lowered my dress and began rising to his feet I squeezed my eyes shut, a few soft tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I am sorry you were forced to relive the horrors of that place," He whispered in a pained tone, thinking my tears were from the memories.
"That's not..." I sighed. "I've relieved it all before. That's… It's not what I'm afraid of."
"Then what is?"
I closed my eyes tighter. "I... I don't want it to have changed how you see me."
"Penelope." Cool fingers lifted my chin. My eyes stayed shut, terrified of what I'd see when they opened. Pity? Disgust? Disappointment? "Penelope, look at me." Not a whisper, but a gentle command.
With a deep breath I followed his instructions and opened my wet eyes, slowly meeting his. There was no pity, no disgust, only him. He looked sad, but he felt angry, more angry than I'd ever felt before. It wasn't aimed at me, but at what they had done to me. My lip quivered at the realization and as he wiped the tears from my eyes I whispered, "I'm sorry."
"You are beautiful. All of you." He said it so easily, said it like it was a fact everyone knew. "Nothing would ever change how I see you."
Our faces drifted closer until we shared the same breath. His blue eyes glistened in the dull firelight, looking at me with want. His hands dug into my hips as I pushed into him more, tilting my head back further. More. More. More. My body sang. Wings beating echoed from the doorway as Matthew returned. "Hey boss, they're getting kind of, oh! OH! Uh, sorry, I'll just... umm… See myself out…"
Morpheus' jaw clenched. Frustration and disappointment filled us both, pushing and pulling between us like ocean waves, the echoes of want flowing with them. I lowered myself back onto the flats of my feet and pressed a soft kiss to his throat. His hands squeezed my hips tighter before they released me entirely. "Thank you for coming for me."
His lips returned the gesture to my forehead, his cold breath fanning down my face as he answered, "Always."
"Well," I cleared my throat, "We shouldn't keep the devil waiting."
He chuckled. "I suppose not."
He offered me his arm and led me back into the main room where Lucifer and their silver armored friend stood with The demon Lucifer had called, Sagathes and another demon kneeling before them. A forced smile spread on their lips. "The demons responsible for the harm done to your lady, Dream."
"Their names?" he said from my side.
"The Sagathes," Lucifer gestured to the demon I'd seen in the elevator. "And Vornen." Their hand moved to the other demon, the one I assumed had thrown me into the table. "In accordance with our laws you may choose their punishment."
He thought for a moment before saying in a lethally calm voice, "I choose The Pits."
Lucifer nearly sneered. "Very well, a fight to the death it is."
After Lucifer turned and announced the display to whatever crowd was at the bottom of the balcony, cheers erupted through the palace and the two demons evaporated into smoke. They turned back to Morpheus and shrugged a shoulder. "Satisfied?"
"At present. Now, onto the matter of my helm."
"Which demon has your helm? Name it and we shall bring it here."
"I confess I do not know the name." He moved closer to the balcony, beside Lucifer, and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze.
"Your punishment has summoned all of them." The sight from the balcony was as far as the eye could see filled with demons and large pits of flame. In the center of the cheering crowd the Sagathes and Vornen pitted against each other, fighting with a cruel brutality that I'd never seen before, nor did I want to see again. "There, now, Dream you may inquire. Which demon has your helmet? Shall we summon them one at a time or…"
"That won't be necessary." Dream gave Lucifer a look and turned back to the main room, leading me toward the stairs where Matthew waited.
"It surprises us how easily you would give up, Dream. We know how you relied upon your tools. But, tools are the subtlest of traps. We come to rely upon them, and in their absence we become vulnerable, weak, defenseless."
"Not entirely." He let go of my arm with a quiet request for me to wait beside Matthew as he handled his remaining business. Turning to Lucifer he pulled the pouch from his coat and knelt, dumping some of it into the stone floor. "I have recovered my sand. It brought me to Hell. Now it brings that which is mine in Hell to me."
The sand began to swirl around him, glittering in the firelight as it moved and swirled a few steps away. A figure appeared in the center, holding what I assumed was the helm he was here to retrieve. The demon turned, clutching the helmet tightly as Dream stood back up, glaring at him with dark eyes. "Tell me your name, demon."
Glancing at Lucifer he replied, "Do I have to tell him?"
"That is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell." Lucifer said, sounding less than pleased at this development.
"Choronzon," Dream said. "The helm is mine. You must return it to me."
"No. It's mine now. I traded it from a mortal for a paltry thing. It was a fair trade. I've broken no laws and if the Dream King wants his helm back, he will have to fight me for it."
My heart hammered in my chest. Surely Dream wouldn't agree to fight a demon in Hell. Surely there was some other way to- "Very well." God damn it. "I challenge you, Choronzon."
The demon chuckled, stepping closer to Dream. "You know the rules, Dream Lord."
"If I win you will return my helmet."
"And if you lose, you'll serve as my slave in Hell for eternity."
"I accept the terms." Matthew cawed from beside me, equally as not into this plan.
Lucifer looked too happy as they said, "And whom shall you choose to represent you in the battle?"
This is a trap. "I shall represent myself."
A concealed smile. "Choronzon, whom will you choose to represent you?"
"Hmm…" The Demon stepped closer. "I choose you, sire."
Lucifer smiled and in the blink of an eye was dressed in shining black leather armor as they stepped behind Dream, who smirked at their clever plan playing out. "Apologies Dream, but the laws of Hell demand that I become his champion. But if you would not fight me."
"I have accepted the terms." When he turned to Lucifer he was also dressed in leather armor. "Let the challenge begin."
Lucifer first proclaimed the winner of the Pit fights as Vornen, who’d joined us in the room, standing beside the woman I learned was named Mazikeen, then Choronzon took over and began the announcement of the current fight. As Dream joined Lucifer and Choronzon on the balcony to announce the challenge Matthew tutted beside me. "So, this is like the worst idea ever right?"
"Oh absolutely," I answered, my eyes glued to Dreams leather clad back. Damn him and that leather, tight in all the right places. His head tilted slightly, reminding me that he could in fact hear my thoughts. Or some of them… The dirty ones it would seem. I felt the heat rise to my face.
Matthew hopped up onto my shoulder. "Sorry about going through your memories, by the way, you didn't deserve that… Or what those people did to you."
I smiled, sadly.. "Thank you, Matthew. For all of your help."
"Oh, and, uh, sorry about walking in on the, uh… thing going on in the side room."
If my blush hadn't been noticeable before, it was now. "It… It's okay. You didn't…" my voice trailed off. Didn't interrupt anything? But he had… we were going to kiss, or at least I was going to kiss him. I hadn't even thought of asking if he wanted to kiss me first. God I'm an idiot. Of course he didn't want to kiss me we're in HELL trying to get his things back! I hardly noticed Dream walking towards us until he had grabbed hold of my arm and gently pulled me aside.
"Matthew, I need you to return to the Dreaming with Penelope."
"What? No!" The bird said before I could.
"It is the only reason I allowed you to come here."
"So I could leave you?"
"If I should not be allowed to leave this place I would not have Lucienne left alone with no word as to my fate, not again." He looked back up to me. "The sand will take you both back."
"I'm not leaving you." I said firmly.
He sighed. "We do not have time to argue."
"There is no argument." I took his face in my hands. "I will not leave you. Not again. So, if you want me out of Hell you're going to have to walk out with me."
"Morpheus," Lucifer's false sweet voice said from beside us. "Am I interrupting a preliminary bout of some kind?"
Matthew hopped between us and bowed. "Just a ringside pep talk, Your Majesty. We came here for the helm and we're not leaving without it."
"We shall see." They smiled, turning to stand in the center of the room.
Matthew flew up to one of the pillars as I let go of Dreams face. He looked at me for a moment before saying, as casually as he could. "This may... perhaps be a good time for a token of luck. A kiss perhaps."
Clever, I thought as I smoothed my hands over his leather clad chest until they came to shoulders. I internally groaned. You have no right looking this good in leather, my lord. I thought, knowing he'd hear. His eyes flared as the words reached him. I lifted myself up using his shoulders as leverage to press a kiss to his cheek beside his lips. Once my feet were back on the ground I smiled up at him. "Win and I'll give you a real kiss, Dream Lord."
He smirked, bowing his head. "As my lady commands."
I did my best to ignore the way his words made my stomach flip as he walked up the stairs and took his place in front of Lucifer. Matthew flew down to my shoulder as I took my place out of the way. “You think he’s got a shot?”
“Of course he does,” I replied. “If not, you might want to get used to the scenery.”
Dream looked over at us for a moment, shoulders tense and eyes swimming with stormy night. I smiled, a simple thing to try and reassure him that no matter what happened Matthew and I would be beside him. He was going to win. He had to, or we were all stuck here.
“As the challenged, I set the meter and take the first move.” Lucifer had done a poor job at hiding their glee ever since Dream had accepted the challenge.
“Very well,” he replied, “Make your move.”
“I am… a dire wolf. Prey-stalking, lethal prowler.” A vision of the great wolf growling entered my mind. It was odd, as was the sensation that washed over me, but from what I gathered part of whatever this game was.
“I am a hunter. Horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing.” A horse and its rider entered the vision, the rider a hunter, drawing his bow he shot down at the wolf. Lucifer groaned in pain, lurching forward holding their abdomen with their hands. I saw a flash of red on their palm before they stood up straight and continued.
“I am a serpent. Horse-biting, poison-toothed.” A snake struck out of the darkness, teeth digging into the leg of the hunter's horse. Dreams' head twisted to the side revealing dark veins consuming his neck and face, pooling his eye with red. The mark burned on my arm, drawing out a startled breath from my lungs. Dream’s eyes fixed on me for a moment before he spoke.
“I am a bird of prey. Snake-devouring, talons ripping.” The hawke swooped down and grabbed the snake, twisting its talons into the scaled creature. Lucifer’s head whipped down, as if they’d just been struck, their hand cupping their cheek.
“I am a butcher bacterium. Warm-life destroying.” Dream was on his knees, arms holding onto himself as his face lifted revealing black splotches of decaying flesh taking form. The mark burned more, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. His eyes met mine again, dark and desperate.
“I am a world. Space-floating, life-nurturing.” All around were fields of green and bright sun filled skies. Lucifer looked around for a moment as the birds chirped and life hummed in the air.
“I am a nova. All-exploding, planet-cremating.” The sky filled with a bright ball of searing light. Fire tore through the green field, burning everything away until nothing but ash remained. Dream lay on the ground, skin burnt and breath weak. I gripped onto my arm tight, nails digging into my skin, trying to lessen or dull the pain any way I could. He needed to focus on winning, not on worrying about me.
“I am a universe. All things encompassing, all life embracing.” The beautiful array of bright stars and cosmic clouds filled the vision.
“I am anti-life. The Beast of Judgment. The dark at the end of everything.” Darkness quickly overtook the stars and clouds until there was nothing but darkness. Something I’d grown tired of seeing. Dream, still on the floor, turned deathly pale, his cheeks began to hollow as he gasped trying to find breath. “What will you be then, Dream Lord?”
Black veins began to spread on my arm, the mark burning so hot now I could hardly breathe. I leaned back against the pillar, trying to keep myself on my feet as Dream tried to push himself up off the ground. “I…”
Matthew flew from my shoulder, hopping toward him. “Boss… Hey boss!”
“Still with us Dream?” Lucifer purred.
“He is, and it’s his move, Your Majesty.”
Lucifer looked down at him. “There are no more moves. What can survive the anti-life?”
Matthew glanced over at me before turning to Dream. “Hey, boss. Listen to me…" The voice of the raven dipped so low I couldn't hear it.
Dream glanced up at Lucifer and then his eyes met mine. Through the pain, through the spinning of the room I smiled at him. Come on, Sandy. Not an inch, remember? I pushed the thought to him as hard as I could, only hoping that somehow it was one he heard. “I… Am…” He slowly began rising from the floor as Matthew cawed beside him. “Hope.”
The room flooded with bright light as Dream rose to his feet, his eyes meeting Lucifers'. Their voice was laced with disbelief, “Hope.”
“Well, Lightbringer? It’s your move. What is it that kills hope?” The pain gripping me vanished along with the light. I caught my breath for a few seconds before ignoring any possible formalities and going to Dreams' side. I put one hand on his arm and the other on the side of his face, examining him for any injuries as he lifted my marked wrist to his lips. “Are you alright?”
I smiled, trying to stifle the relieved laugh that built up in my chest. “You just dueled the devil, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to ask you that.”
Lucifer had twisted around, voice no longer light and pleasant but dark and growling. “Choronzon, give him his helm.”
The demon clutched it tighter. “No. I won’t. It’s mine. Please.”
Vornen and Mazikeen both moved, predators stalking their prey. Mazikeen grabbed the helm while Vornen threw Choronzon off the balcony and into the cheering crowd below. Mazikeen handed the helm to Vornen, who turned and presented it to Dream. “Your winnings, Dream Lord.”
Dream bowed his head slightly, but did not thank the demon, instead he said in a cold voice. “If you should ever seek out that which is mine again nothing shall stand in my way of retribution, do you understand.”
“Yes, Dream Lord.” the demon said, casting his eyes down.
Helm tucked under one arm and his other curled keeping me safely behind him, Dream turned to Lucifer. “Thank you, Lightbringer. The Ruler of Hell is honorable, indeed. I will not forget this.”
“Honorable?” Lucifer's face twisted into a sneer. “You joke, surely. Look out there, Morpheus. The billion Lords of Hell stand arrayed about you. Tell us. Why should we let you leave? Helmet or no, you have no power here. After all… What power have dreams in Hell?”
“You say I have no power here. Perhaps you speak truly. But to say dreams have no power in Hell… Tell me Lucifer Morningstar, what power would Hell have if those imprisoned here were not able to dream of Heaven.”
Lucifer's lips twitched. “One day, Morpheus… We shall destroy you and everything you hold dear.”
Dream bowed slightly, eyes never leaving theirs. “Until that day, Lightbringer.”
He placed a hand on my back and began leading me towards the stairs when Lucifer suddenly called out, “Penelope.” My jaw clenched and every inch of me crawled at the sound of my name from their mouth. “One last thing, before you leave us. A gift.”
I didn’t turn, but Morpheus’ eyes darkened slightly before he looked down at me. I was about to ask what was wrong, and then a voice I hadn’t heard since the night of Roderick Burgess’ party echoed off the stone. “Pen… Penelope.”
I turned slowly, a quiet sob catching in my throat at the sight of my mother knelt in chains before the devil, eyes looking at me filled with guilt and desperation. “Is this real?” I whispered to Dream.
“Yes.”
“Please, Penelope,” My mother begged. “Please.”
I looked at Lucifer. “What is the purpose of this?”
They smiled. “Your mother is here because she, while not directly, sent you on the path of torment you've endured. She wronged you, betrayed you, denied you the life you wanted. Only you have the power to free her.”
“Free her?” I asked. "How would I free her?"
“Your forgiveness,” Lucifer clarified, eyes looking past me to Dream, who’d stiffened beside me.
I looked at her, small and shaking bound in chains, not unlike I’d been for those eight long years of being a captive. Ascending back up the stairs until I stood in front of her, I asked. “Did you know?”
She sniffled. “I… I…”
“Did you know what they were doing to me?” I asked again, louder. “Did you know where they sent me after they were done?”
She looked down at the floor. “Yes.”
I clenched my jaw and blinked away tears, drawing in a deep, hot breath. She’d done nothing to directly hurt me, but just like Alex, her inaction added to the suffering I’d endured. She should rot here. Part of me thought. But, as I listened to the rowdy cheering crowd of demons and watched Lucifer smile… No. I knelt down in front of her, lifting her face with a soft hand. “I want you to know, in whatever afterlife awaits you, that you are no longer my family. You are nothing to me. I forgive you."
Rising to my feet I watched the chains that bound her turn to dust for a moment before I turned, putting her begging and pleading at me to hear her out… to let her explain herself, behind as I walked back to Morpheus’ side and took his arm once again, leaving the palace of Hell together. All while we walked I could feel him watching me, could feel the question lingering in him. “You’re wondering why I forgave her.”
“Yes,” He admitted softly. “She contributed to your pain and she deserved to suffer for it.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But her suffering wouldn’t have brought me peace. It wouldn’t have changed anything. Ultimately by giving her my forgiveness I’ve set not only her free, but myself.”
“Yourself?” he pressed curiously.
I shrugged. “For so long I held onto that endless and suffocating anger towards her. But anger is a consuming thing, Dream, the longer you hold it the more it takes from you.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment before we came to a stop. "I can send you home now."
"I'm coming with you," I stated.
"Penelope…"
"The last time we parted ways I ended up getting dragged to hell."
"That will not happen again. You are going home, where I know you'll be safe while I recover my ruby." His stone-like features told me this wasn't a fight I was going to win. "Please."
I sighed. "Fine, but… Please be careful. No more duels with devils."
He smiled. "My ruby is the last of my tools I must recover, and it should be the most simple."
"Will you come find me when you're done?" I asked, almost embarrassed at how desperate it sounded.
A cold hand stroked my cheek. "I will. I promise."
He grabbed his pouch and poured the sand into his palm. With one blow it swirled around me, faster and faster until Dream and Hell were no longer visible. When the sand fell away I was standing in the middle of a road. What the fuck? I looked around, trying to find anything familiar, but I didn't know this place. Why would the sand send me here?
I quickly made my way towards the little diner I'd popped up by, maybe someone inside would be able to help me figure out where I was. The little bell rang and the waitress, a lovely woman with black hair and a green uniform, hollered out, "Be with you in a minute hon, just grab a seat!"
She sounded American, and that certainly didn't bode well. I hadn't been back to America for a long time, not since the cult had followed me here. The little diner was quaint, kind of exactly what you pictured when you heard the word diner. The checkered floors were worn from years of foot traffic, the green accents and walls were adorned with old American posters and random décor, the lights were all old and every leather seat and booth was scuffed and scratched. It felt oddly homey.
I moved to the counter, hoping that if I stayed close enough to the door I'd be easier for her to remember. She ran around between tables, filled cups of coffee and ran back to the kitchen a few times before she huffed and settled in front of me. "Hi! What can I help you with?"
"Um, hi, I think I'm a little l-"
"Lost?" She finished my thought and then smiled. "Don't you worry. We get a lot of lost out of towers around here, let me go grab you a map sweetie."
The bell rang again and a hum of power rolled over me. I knew that feeling. Turning toward the door I looked at the man standing there, clothed in striped pajamas and slippers and carrying a dimly glowing ruby in his hand. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Chapter 6: Friends As Endless and Constantine As Mine
REPOSTING! Sorry all, my app is glitched to shit so I'm reposting to fix the missing read more issue! If you can just like and repost or something to boost this one I'd appreciate it since the other will be deleted! <3
TW: angst, depression, slight horror, slight blood, slight gore (sorry for the late posting, technical difficulties are a bitch)
BUT here are all 13,039 (aka 34 pages) of chapter 6!
1934
I was floating in an endless sea of stars, the ebb and flow of cosmic waves wrapping me in an ethereal warmth. For the first time in a long time I felt free. I should have known it wouldn't last. The stars around me took shape, a hand cradling me within it as it lifted me upwards. The sea of stars pulled together, swirling around two glowing eyes until they formed the vague shape of a woman.
You do not belong in the Sunless Lands, not now, not ever.
The voice was all around me, made of the stars themselves. I didn't understand.
Two tethered stars cannot survive this world alone. One must have the other or chaos and ruin shall reign.
It didn't make sense, but I could feel the weight of impending cold beginning to seep back into the air as the hand began to lower me down. It got colder and colder until it felt unbearable. No. Please.
So upon your head I give a gift. The blessing of the Night.
The cold bit at my skin and settled deep into my bones as I pulled myself from the river and collapsed along its edge. I was shivering, shaking, so violently I almost couldn't move as I forced my stiff body to roll. The stars were back in the sky clear and bright and warm and far away. A shuddering breath left me as I looked up at it in awe and wept. It was an odd sensation, feeling both disappointed and glad. I hadn't intended to survive and after everything I'd been through, death seemed like the last way out. Yet here I was, alive?
"Hello!" A voice startled me to my feet, but as I tried to move, to run, I started to fall. Two arms wrapped around me, helping me stand. "Oh, you poor thing, you look so lost."
"Y-You could say that," I replied in a shaky voice.
"I'll admit, I'm a little lost too. Well I wasn't, but now it seems something's changed."
When I had finally regained my balance I turned to the stranger and squinted. "Do I know you? You look very familiar."
Her smile was warm and full of comfort, something I hadn't felt in so long it felt foreign. "I get that sometimes. But I don't think you're supposed to know me, not yet… At least that's what it looks like."
She was beautiful, elegant and regal even in the simple clothes she wore. The gold of her pendant glistened in the moonlight as she shrugged off her shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders, rubbing slightly to try and warm me. I could feel the heat rolling off her and before I could stop myself I'd curled up under her arm, leaning into her, soaking up every second of that warmth that she'd let me.
She held me tighter and we walked along the edge of the river, back towards the dim city lights. "I should probably give you my name since I'm curled up on you like a cat."
"You don't have to," she said. "And I don't mind, I always liked cats."
"I'm Penelope." I gave her the name anyway, though I'd gotten the sense she didn't need it to know who I was. I looked up at her, her arm thrown over my shoulder as we walked. I knew her face, but I just couldn't place where I'd seen her.
She glanced down at me. "Don't strain yourself, Penelope."
At the sound of her saying my name, the familiarly sweet voice hit me. "Death." She smiled. "You were here for me, weren't you?"
Nodding she tightened her arm around me, shielding me from the chilled breeze. "I was."
"What stopped you?"
"You did." We were just minutes from the city now, just minutes from the world I'd longed to be part of for eight years of hell. The world I no longer knew anything about. I was scared, absolutely terrified, to leave the warmth of Death's side. To be forced to face the unfamiliar life that now waited for me.
The air around us grew colder, a sign that our walk was almost over. "Why?"
She pulled us both to a stop and with the most loving eyes she pressed my hand to my chest. The beating of my heart hummed under my palm. "You feel that? That's a beating heart. Your beating heart. You are here, heart beating, lungs full of air. You, Penelope Barlow are alive. You're alive."
Tears streamed down my cheeks. "What if I don't want to be?"
Death's smile was sad, but her eyes were soft. She tucked my hair behind my ear. "We don't choose when our time is up, not me and not you. I know you think I'm the only way forward, but I'm not. I'm the end, love. I know it hurts, I feel it hurting, but in time that will fade."
"What if I can't do it?" I asked, holding back a sob. "What if I can't move forward?"
"I can't tell you what's certain for you. Hell, nothing might be certain for you, you are special." She wiped a tear from my cheek. "What I can tell you is that even though you may not want life now, you will again. In a year, ten years or even twenty! Time changes things, heals things. It won't always be this painful, it can't be, not when there's so much love and beauty here, you just need to find it again."
"But why? Why me?"
"I don't know," she admitted sadly, sad that she couldn't help me further.
I wiped my eyes and looked out at the looming cityscape of London. It looked so foreign. "I don't know what to do now."
She grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. "You live. For all you've lost and all you have yet to find, you live."
"Will I see you again?" I asked, squeezing her hand back.
With a shrug she smiled brightly. "When it comes to you, I don't really know."
"Then I guess we'll see."
"Guess so." She pulled me into a warm hug. "Goodbye Penelope. I might be seeing you."
As she walked off into the night I waved, whispering a faint goodbye. "I might be seeing you too, Death."
1946
I could feel the heat of the fire rolling across my skin. Shouts and sirens echoed in the streets, the neighbors rushed from their homes, running in a frenzy of panic. But I remained still, frozen in place as I watched it burn. This was my fault, I told myself. They wanted me… If I'd just-
Two firm hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me away from the building. Everything spun. The fleeting faces of the crowd swirling together like melting wax. The hand I'd been gripping onto slipped from my grasp. "Penelope! God damn it, Penelope, move your feet!"
Move your feet. Had I stopped? Move. I didn't remember doing that. Move. The ringing echoing in my ears had finally started to dull, slowly being replaced by my loud heaving breaths. MOVE! I stumbled forward just in time as the car flew past me. Hands grabbed my arms again, pulling me forward into the solid chest that smelt of ink and steel.
"I did this," I sobbed into him. "Olethros…"
His firm voice wrapped around me like a blanket. "No you didn't, this isn't your fault."
Wails and screaming echoed from down the street. The sounds still made my mind twist, threatening to pull me back to that room, to the haunted memories of the asylum. I cried harder as Olethros' hands covered my ears, blocking the sound from bringing me further pain. He pressed a kiss to my hair and said something I couldn't hear before he moved my hands to replace his and lifted me up into his arms.
He ran, we ran. The further we got from the blazing flame the more the pit in my stomach sank. I'd failed him… Again. The past eleven years were all wasted, because of me. Because I'd gotten too comfortable. The house… Everyone inside… Their blood was on my hands.
I was soaked in it, stained, in the blood of all the innocent people my rebellion had caused. All the people that chose to help me, chose to love me. All of them were gone. And it meant nothing. The Sandman was still trapped, our plan never being able to take shape. The cult once belonging to Roderick Burgess had gained more power than ever and the Institution… A weak sob left me. The institution knew I was alive.
Everything I touched I ruined. Everything I said turned to ash. And everyone I loved either burned in the flames or withered away by my side. Long life, perhaps even eternal life, had not been the gift I hoped.
I clung to Olethros' broad shoulders, held onto him, the last piece I had left to remind me I wasn't alone. "Rest, Inky, we're almost there."
The warmth of his nickname spread through me, lulling me to sleep with thoughts of what our life would be like in America. He could paint, I could collect antiques, and my friend and I would never have to be alone again. When I woke the ground was swaying side to side. Salt filled the air and the sound of waves hammered against the wood walls that surrounded me. I sat up in the swinging hammock, eyes darting around in search of the familiar tall burly redhead. Panic filled me when I found nothing.
"Oh good you're awake!" An old man wearing a sailors uniform said as he made his way across the room to me. "Thought you were dead for a bit!"
"My friend, where is he?" I asked, not bothering with any pleasantries.
"Friend?"
"Big guy, red hair, you can't miss him."
"Ahh yeah, he dropped you off."
Despair filled my lungs. "Dro...dropped me off?"
The sailor nodded. "Yeah, he brought you on board, told us you were goin to America and left."
My jaw clenched. "No... No. We were supposed to go together, he's supposed to be here."
"Sorry lass," was all he said as he turned and left.
Alone. I was alone again. My chest ached with the crushing weight I'd long avoided, the weight of the nothing that looked over me. White walls, endless halls... NO! I'm not there. I'm here. I'm here. I pressed my hand to my chest, holding it tightly over the heartbeat. I'm here. I'm alive.
God it hurt, it always hurt. Tears streamed down my cheeks but these were different. These tears weren't out of fear or loss or sorrow, but of anger. I was angry. Angry at everyone that had just kept taking and breaking down all I worked to build. Angry at Olethros, so angry, that he just left me here, after everything. Fire burned my throat as I screamed, throwing whatever I could get my hands on at the wall. But when the fire faded I was still alone. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees as I cried, the ship rocking me back and forth with the waves.
1968
America was just another shit hole to me. The anger I'd clung to had served me well, for a while, but as anger always did it burned out slowly. It faded with each year that passed, with each brick I'd built up once again from the bottom. My life here hadn't been difficult, the inheritance I'd kept from my family's estates and whatever I'd been able to save from what Olethros and I had accumulated, kept me comfortable, but the small surrounding comforts of a lonely life meant very little to me.
Truth be told I was scared. Scared to lose anyone else. Scared to be betrayed again. Scared to do anything but sit on the rickety bed and stare at the hideous wallpaper. A chill ran up my spine as a low, guttural moan filled the room. "This feels different. Your despair."
In the shadows the figure of a woman stood. "God not again," I said with a sigh. "Look, I'm kind of over the hallucinating so if you don't mind just fucking off right back to where you came from, please."
She shuttered. "You're so much meaner than I thought you'd be. But, he can be mean too sometimes… Oftentimes."
I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look, lady, I really don't want to do this."
"You don't want anything." She said sadly. "That's why I'm here. It's why I can feel all the pain boiling up inside you."
"That sounds disgusting."
"No!" She cried, a glint of metal flashing in the pale light. "It's beautiful! I've never seen pain so beautiful before! You're special."
"Fuck me," I groaned standing and pointing a finger at her. "If I hear one more person tell me how goddamn special I am I'm going to throw someone off a building!"
The glittering fish hook dug into her face as she smiled. "Oh they're going to love you! But you'd best be nicer to them, they like to hold a grudge."
Anger swelled in me as I turned, grabbing a lamp off the desk and raising to throw it, but when I turned the figure was gone. I sat back on the bed and looked down at my shaking hands. I need help. The realization was colder than I expected, but it was more than I'd felt in a while so I welcomed it. He would hate you, I told myself looking at the wall. He would hate what you've let yourself become.
1989
Our lips were hot and wet as they moved in a poorly choreographed dance. My fingers had curled in his hair, his had done the same. I should have felt more... Pressed up against another warm body, the light buzz of alcohol, this should have been better. But it wasn't.
I pulled away, setting a hand on the stranger's chest. When I looked up, with my vision slightly blurred, his hair was dark and hungry starry eyes stared down at me. I blinked and it was gone, the dark hair turned light, his dark eyes looked down at me with confusion. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I sighed. "I just need a minute, I think."
"Okay, well come find me later, yeah?"
"Sure," I lied.
Dragging my feet I returned to the bar of the old tavern, sitting in the stool the bartender had brought out for me. He gave me a look, the same look he'd given me two other times this week. Why was this so hard? I wanted to scream. Why did it always feel so hollow?
"My, my, aren't you just the belle of the bar," a light teasing voice cooed beside me.
The bright red lips caught my eye first as I turned, the cheshire grin sending a chill down my spine. The golden eyes and skin tight black leather of their outfit were both close seconds though. I shook off my surprise and met their gaze, a hum of something rolling from the honeyed depths. "I'm sorry?"
"Oh no need to apologize, little petal." They said twirling a strand of my hair on their finger. "You, it would seem, are the most desired creature in this place."
I glanced around, confused as to who this was and why they'd spoken with such familiarity. "I don't understand."
A throaty laugh. "Yes, that much is obvious." Wow, rude. I thought, clenching my jaw. Their fingers brushed over it gently. "Oh come now, I'm only teasing. I was hoping you'd be more fun than him, my twin told me you had spark, but now I'm not so sure."
"Look, I don't know you or your twin nor do I particularly want to, so can you just tell me what you want so I can go back to my night?"
The gold in their eyes swam with glee. "Oooh, there's that fire! I like it!" With a long, languid look around the bar they sighed. "All these people either want to fuck you or be you. Their desire is so... Simple." They looked back at me. "But you, you I can't seem to read. So, petal, what I want is to know... What do you desire?"
They'd moved closer, just an inch away from my face. "Some personal space."
Another long laugh. "I do love the attitude, but let's not kid ourselves into thinking it's aimed at me."
"What?"
"All that fire, all that venom and nowhere to put it. How tragic." They purred. Pressing a quick kiss to my cheek they turned to leave, but not without throwing one last insult over their shoulder, "If you ever decide he's too self important for your tastes, do remember my doors are always open for you, petal."
Through the crowd the shimmer of the black leather vanished. I did my best to brush them off. They obviously had me mixed up with someone else. The bartender set my drink down and arched a brow. "You doin' okay, sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Just an off night."
"Looks like you ain't the only one," he said nodding toward a man alone at a table. I watched him for a moment, taking in his dark hair and sad eyes. Yeah, he's definitely not having the best time. As the crowd thinned he came to the bar, leaning against it trying to hide the sigh. "Whisky please."
"Oh, you'll have to be more specific," the old barkeeper said. "We have a menu now."
"Oh," he said, taking the plastic lined paper and giving it a half glance. "What's the oldest you've got?"
"I've got a Glen Grant old enough to be your father!" He answered.
A chuckle and a look, amused and cocky, filled the man's face. His eyes stayed sad. "I'm older than I look."
The barkeeper filled his glass, sliding it towards him. He lifted it to his nose, our eyes locking as he took a long sip. He wasn't ugly, quite handsome in fact, but I was far more curious about the sadness he seemed to carry so, before I could think better of it I asked, "You waiting for someone?"
He pulled the glass from his lips and smiled that same smile. "I think I’ve been stood up.”
“I’m sorry.”
With a shrug he looked into his glass, swirling the liquid around a bit. “We had a fight. Last time we were here. It was my fault. I wish I could say I was drunk at the time, but I was just an idiot.”
I smiled, taking a sip from my own glass. “Well, you do look the type. No offense!”
“None taken.” He said, clearing his throat slightly. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
He looked around as if the question had been outrageous. “You’re by far the most beautiful girl in this place and here you are sat alone with me and the barkeep.”
“If I’m with you and the barkeep am I really alone?” I countered, nervously stirring my drink with the straw.
“A fair point, but my question remains the same.” He slid closer. “What’s your sob story?”
I bit my lip, trying to fight the smile that started to spread. “That’s a very long story, stranger.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Is this your move?” I teased. “You make up a little story about being stood up by a friend and then come over to hit on lonely girls at the bar?”
With a boisterous laugh he shook his head. “That would be rather pathetic, wouldn’t it?”
I took another drink. “Eh, I’ve seen worse.”
“So, why are you lonely?”
“That is the question of the hour.” I had the answer, but I refused to acknowledge it. The pain of such an admittance would drive me back to where I’d been thirty years ago, and I wouldn't go back there. Not back to the hallucinating and the constant state of fear and pain that had all but consumed me. I owed him more than that.
"Well, lonely stranger," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Hob."
It was an odd name, but I placed my hand in his with a smile. "Hello, Hob, I'm Penelope."
He pressed a kiss to my knuckles and winked. I rolled my eyes and sighed. "So, you think your friend is still mad at you?"
"More than likely, he's the type to hold a grudge."
The barkeep chuckled, butting into the conversation. “I’ve seen plenty of friends get in fights in pubs. Even more of them laugh about it together later!”
Hob looked over the counter and smiled again, more amused this time. “Maybe in another hundred years.”
“Ah, you’ll have to have found a new pub by then. This place has been sold to make room for new flats.” The horror that filled his face was something I wasn’t expecting. Had it meant so much to him? Perhaps to his friend? "The borough council are trying to stop them, but if you've got enough money in this country you can do whatever you bloody want."
I sat with him for another few minutes before the place needed to close. He was still upset, still for whatever reason worried as we stepped out into the night. "Would you like me to wait with you, while you call someone or?"
"It's alright, I walked." I assured him just as the rain began to pour down from the starry sky. With a sigh I looked up at them, wishing to see the blue pair of eyes looking at me once again.
"Need an umbrella?" Hob asked. "I'm sure I have a spare."
I smiled at him, a smile that reflected his. "And miss out on the rain?! Absolutely not!"
"You are the strangest girl I've ever met, Penelope."
"Strange," I hummed, mulling it over in my head. "I quite like that."
"See you around?" He asked.
I shrugged. "Maybe in a hundred years."
The phrase seemed to light something in him as a smile, a real smile spread on his face as he tipped his imaginary to me. "A hundred years then."
2017
I pulled up to the club, tires screeching against the asphalt as I skidded next to her car. God damn you Johanna Constantine! I cursed, ripping my belt off and slamming my door. A hooded man leaned up against her car, flipped casually through the pages of his book.
"You're too late," he said in a rich slightly scratchy voice as I drew closer.
"Excuse me?"
The chains that seemed to bind him to the book clacked against the hood of the car sending a shiver of unpleasant memories through me. "You're too late to save the girl. Or perhaps you're right on time… It likes to change for you."
I kept walking toward the door, dread filling me at the way the man's weighted words clouded around me. "JOHANNA!" I all but screamed. The smell of smoke and burning flesh was pungent in the air. No. Not again.
I ran, ran through the double doors and almost slammed into the back of Logue, a man I'd only met once before and absolutely hated. He stared down in front of him, wailing, feet planted in place. I shoved him to the side and felt my heart fall into my stomach at the sight of my friend, frozen on the ground, clutching the hand of the girl, Logues daughter, that had no doubt been lost to his stupidity.
"This is your fault," Logue spat down at her and I didn't hesitate to whirl around and punch him.
The sound of his nose breaking beneath my fist was music to my ears. As he stumbled and stuttered out cries I stood over him. "If you want your nose to be the only thing I break you'd better leave now. And I don't want to hear a goddamn word from you ever again."
He ran out, but I didn't focus on him, couldn't, not when Johanna was sat there unmoving and practically wheezing. "Jo..." I tried in a soft voice.
Nothing.
I knelt down beside her and carefully moved the hair from her face. Her lip quivered. "Johanna." Her eyes had begun to water, tears already spilling over as I rubbed a soothing hand over her back and gently held the wrist of the hand that still held onto the girl. "Johanna, you have to let go."
Her chest heaved. "I... I can't."
"Yes you can," I assured her. "Let go."
The arm thudded to the floor and I pulled her into my embrace immediately. As was the Constantine way she resisted, tried pushing her pain back down and me along with it, but I still held her.
I knew this pain, knew it well, knew it wasn't one you could push down. So I held her as she pushed and shouted and raged in my arms. Eventually the fight left her and the heartbroken sobs filled the room as the remnants of fire and brimstone crackled beside us.
"I've got you," I whispered, blinking the tears from my own eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Jo. I promise."
This promise was one I intended to keep. After all, Johanna Constantine had been my only constant in recent years. The only one I had to call upon if I needed help, so in turn I was there for her. Most would have called such a thing friendship, but she'd hated that word, so we'd called it a beneficial alliance, something she still hated but at least allowed. But, I had no trouble admitting that Johanna Constantine was my friend and that I wouldn't abandon her to bear the pain, no doubt ahead of her, alone.
Present Day
The rain had begun suddenly and had only worsened as the afternoon drifted to night. I saw the flash of white, her signature coat, in the crowd ahead. "Johanna!"
She, thankfully, heard me and stopped. I opened my umbrella, running out from my covered spot to catch up to her. She smiled as our umbrellas knocked together. "Didn't know you were out and about today."
"I was just looking at a few antiques from a collector." I replied, falling into step beside her.
"Were they shit?"
"Absolutely!"
She shook her head. "It appears you still hold the title of greatest antique in London!"
I scoffed and smacked her umbrella. "Bitch."
***
London. The city that he had been doomed to, bound to, for so long the mere air left him tasting ash. He hated it. The loud crowds of humans, the cars and trains and constant rain. This city is cursed, he deducted as he waited for the Constantine girl to arrive. She wasn't far, that much he knew, but it appeared as if she was running late.
As he stood out in the dreadful city he felt… Hot? An odd sensation filled him, one he shoved down as the black cab pulled into view and this Johanna Constantine stepped out. She paused across the road, speaking to the woman he knew as Mad Hettie, one of his sisters immortals. He waited for her atop the stairs, somewhere she'd be forced to speak to him in order to pass and when she finally turned and approached him he was surprised by how closely she resembled the Constantine he'd known.
She stopped a mere four steps away and looked up at him with a tilted head. "Constantine."
"Do we know each other?" She asked, taking a step up.
"We have business, you and I." Was all he said, all he was going to say, if there was one thing he hated more than this city it was the forced pleasantries mortals seemed to be so fond of.
She sighed. "Get in line, bruv. I can't keep God waiting."
He was baffled at her words, more so at the way she just waltzed past him. It would seem that while in captivity the humans had grown far more impetulant than even he remembered. So the king of dreams watched Constantine bicker with the priest about the royals and her fee. It was only when the demon tore its way from its host that he intervened.
"You talk too much," the demon growled.
Constantine tilted her head and smirked. "Tell me your name and I’ll stop.”
“And why would I do that? When there are far more enjoyable ways to make you stop.”
Now standing at the top of the steps, looking down at the demon and the one trying to send it back he called out, "His name is Agilieth.”
“I’m flattered you remember me, Lord Morpheus, after all your time away.”
Constantine looked up at him with furrowed brows and a pensive look. “Lord Morpheus?”
“He is.” Agilieth answered, not once breaking the stare of the king. “Though I confess, I almost didn’t recognize you without your helm.” Dream’s glare darkened. “I wonder where your helm could be.”
A test perhaps? To see how much he knew of what had happened to his tools while he was imprisoned. “I presume it is in hell, with the demon to whom it was traded.”
“Yes, but which demon?” He smiled. “Give me the princess and I’ll tell you.”
Dream considered it. After all, what was one mortal princess to an Endless? What was one mortal in exchange for finding his tools, restoring his power and his realm? Constantine began her chant once again. “Wait!”
She did not stop. The ring of fire circled around Agilieth. “Fine, Fine! I’ll tell you where your helm is, just don’t send me back.”
“Constantine stop!” He called out. Still she continued. “I command you!”
“Dream of the Endless commands you!” the demon shouted.
With a smile, smug and rebellious she replied, “Run along and fuck off back to hell.”
He watched as the fire encased the demon, sending it back to its home in ashes. He glared down at her. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I’ve just tripled my fee,” she answered simply as she turned and began shouting at the priest about how to receive her payment.
He was annoyed, though he probably should have been expecting the outcome from the close proximity to a Constantine. They, no matter what era he’d come across them, were a difficult force of nature. As he stood outside the church, listening to the ramblings of Mad Hettie a pang of guilt filled him as he thought of the cold and callous thoughts he’d had. *She* had been just one mortal, hadn’t she? Had things turned out differently would he have so easily thrown her life away?
The rough sound of her approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned slightly. She looked, if possible, even more apprehensive than she had before. Hettie huffed. “I said the Sandman and I meant the bleedin’ sandman. It's good to have you back, milord. Don’t let her mess you about.”
He gave the old woman a polite nod, taking her warning more seriously after Constantine's rebellion back in the church as he turned to her. She smirked at him. “My gran used to tell me stories about you lot.”
“I’ve known your family for centuries,” he admitted, voice low, a warning.
“Then you know there's not one of us that can be trusted.” For a brief moment, Morpheus thought he saw a hint of sorrow in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “What do you want with me?”
“Something of mine came into your possession.” He said simply. “A leather pouch filled with sand. I need it back.”
“Oh, that was yours?” She pondered. “I bought it at a state sale. Didn’t even manage to get the drawstrings open.”
“Where is it?”
“No idea, could be anywhere.”
“We must find it.”
“Must we? Why is that?”
Morpheus felt his annoyance at her vague answers growing by the minute. Why did it have to be a Constantine? He sighed, hands in his coat pockets fisting in a poor attempt to sooth the hot emotion. “Because without it my realm will cease to exist, and if dreams disappear, then so will humanity.”
Her eyebrows raised. “No offense, but… I could do without dreams for a while. Haven’t had a decent night's sleep in ages.”
“Nor will you,” he insisted, stepping into her path as she moved to leave. “Until we find the sand. We must go. Now.”
“Does this approach generally work for you?” She snapped. “You just turn up and order people about?”
“Yes.”
“Alright,” she replied, far too suddenly. Dream resisted the urge to make a face at the compliance. “I’ll help you find your sand.”
“Good.”
“First thing tomorrow, and I work alone.”
There it was.
“No.”
She ignored him. “Don’t want you and your little friend following me all over London.”
“My friend?” He asked. What sort of trick was this?
Her head turned and she gestured off to the side. “Is that not your raven?”
Morpheus turned to look, far too quickly, too eagerly. For a moment he saw Jessamy perched on the back of the bench. For a moment he’d gone back to a point in time where such a sight was not uncommon, nor painful. The little black bird watched him, waiting with a stiff body and confused eyes. He smothered the warm feeling of fondness already forming with the creature.
“My gran said Dream always had a raven,” Constantine said, eyes drinking in his expression, or lack thereof.
“Not anymore.” Was all he could say, and even that had been too much. He approached the bird slowly, speaking softly. “Who are you? Tell me your name.”
“It’s, uh, Matthew, sir.”
“Matthew, I've made it clear to Lucienne that I do not require a raven at this time.”
“Yeah, she told me you’d say that,” he said with a loud caw.
If I need assistance, I will ask for it.” A lie, one Lucienne would immediately see through.
“Uh, you do actually…” Another caw. “She’s getting away, sir!” He looked behind him where Constantine had been and now no longer was. With a sigh the bird looked down. “This is why you need a raven.”
“Go back to the Dreaming, Matthew,” he forced out, though it didn’t sound as harsh as he’d wanted it to. Dream didn’t even need to look at the raven to know he would not listen. Ensuring things went as she wanted was something Lucienne was quite good at when she found something she felt worth her efforts. He’d forgotten how much he missed it as well as hated it.
For a while he wandered the streets, thinking of how to find Constantine once again. It was a simple task, but with his mind so scrambled even the most simple thing felt miles out of his reach. Stopping beside a water feature he looked into the rippling depths, recalling how he’d seen her face in the waters of his realm. It was only one of the odd occurrences that plagued him. They shouldn’t have done that. Those waters had only ever shown him the darker version of himself before. Perhaps it was because he was now the darker version he always saw in the water. Perhaps the dreaming had sensed it and changed to accommodate… Had chosen her because she was all the good he’d had in him.
The raven, Matthew, landed beside him with an uncomfortable stretch of his wings. “I’m back.”
The glare the Endless sent to the bird would have been enough for any human to go running off as fast and far as they could, but the raven didn’t budge. “Yes, in spite of my telling you to leave.”
“I… I can’t. I… The boss lady told me-”
Boss? His mind hissed as the unsettling wave of anger and jealousy rose up in him. He was darker, he concluded then. Darker and desperate. “Lucienne is not your master.”
Matthew clacked his beak. “She told me you’d say that too.”
“Do you know who I am?” Dream asked, slightly less angry.
“Not entirely, but I… I don’t even know who I am anymore. A couple hours ago I apparently died in my sleep, and now I… I’m a bird!” He shifted from foot to foot, stretching his wings out. “I used to have thumbs. Now I have these things.”
“Yes. And now you must use them to fly back to the dreaming.” A hint of pain laced his voice when he spoke next. “This world is not safe.”
“You think I don’t know that? I lived my whole life here. That’s why Lucienne sent me to help you.”
Help me. The very idea was like a bitter wine on his tongue. He’d done nothing for the loyalty of the bird. He’d done nothing. “My last raven came here to help me.”
“Yeah? Where is he now?”
Blood, bones and feathers. The look of her eyes as she held the small creature in her hands. “Her name was Jessamy. She died, trying to help me.”
With a soft click of his beak Matthew sighed. “I’m sorry. Look, let me at least help you find this woman. If she’s asleep we’ve probably got five or six hours before she’s on the move again.”
Of course, he thought. “If she is asleep, then I know exactly where to find her.”
***
Johannas’ favorite restaurant had, of course, been busier than ever. Every time she asked me to go out to grab it the store was swamped., it was almost as if she planned it. Which, knowing her wasn’t that far fetched, especially if the job she was going off on was one she knew she needed help with. No matter how many times I’d told her about my durability she still refused to accept any help unless it included staying at her flat curled up on the couch with a book or laptop doing research.
I had no interest in doing what she did, but after all she’d helped me with, I felt as though it was only fair I offered her the same amount. The Constantines were stubborn and more often than not paranoid when it came to friendships and love. It made sense, their line of work being as dangerous as it was, I just wished that she’d let me help her more. I also wished to not have to hear about it for the next month as she bitched about my softness. Another thing she wasn’t entirely wrong about. I was soft, well I’d grown softer. The old wounds had started to mend and, though I knew the memories and pain would always be there I couldn’t help but think that Death had been right all those years ago.
It took thirty minutes to get our order, and with another ten minute cab ride back to the flat I was certain the food would be cold by then. Johanna wouldn’t mind, especially if her night had been a long one, which was almost a certainty at this point. I just hoped it would be enough for her to finally get some sleep. After what happened with Astra… I'd never been more thankful not to dream before, but seeing Jo struggle with the nightmares always put a pit in my stomach.
I'd seen violence and death before, and as fucked up as it was the bodies and blood weren't what I focused on, weren't what haunted me. No, instead I saw my friend in a spot I'd once been in, a spot where no matter how far ahead you looked the future remained dark and full of despair. Johanna was strong, resilient and seeing her actually break was what scared me the most.
A large shoulder slammed into me, nearly knocking me and the bag of food to the ground. "Watch it, asshole!" I hollered, but kept walking to catch the cab that had pulled up. The air around me swirled with a tang of something, but so close to the car I didn't pay it any mind as I hopped into the cab and gave the driver the address.
***
Dream stood in the darkened, cluttered apartment, looking down at the sleeping Constantine girl. He'd seen horrific memories plague humans dreams for centuries, hers had been cruel and painful, but he'd seen it all before. So, when she woke with a gasping breath and tears in her eyes he didn't react. When she finally noticed him standing in her living room she signed, "For fucks sake. How did you find me?"
"You were dreaming." He answered. "But it was not only a dream, was it? It is a memory. No wonder you do not sleep."
He'd meant for it to be a statement of understanding, but judging by the way she clenched her jaw and glared up at him he'd not done it properly. "Maybe I don't deserve to."
"Perhaps not. But, I could make it go away." A bargain, he thought, would be the best way to ensure her cooperation.
"Only if I help you find your sand." She finished, the look in her eyes shifting into a more contemplating one.
Glancing around at the shelves and piles of things he said, "Though finding anything in this place may require more magic than even you can muster."
Finally she stood, having made up her mind. "I'll look in the office. Try not to clean up while I'm gone."
"I'm coming with you." Was his simple reply. "You have a gift for disappearing."
She smirked. "You'll love my flatmate then, woman can vanish in less than a second. She certainly wouldn't need to distract you with a raven." He felt something, a warm tug, trying to coax the question out. But instead he stayed silent and watched her as she moved around him. "If the mess out here offends you, just wait til you see my office."
Dream looked at the mess of the small living space and sighed. If this is what she considers tidy we'll be here all night. He followed her and the sight immediately confirmed his worry. Piles of junk, boxes both full and empty tossed about, clothes hanging from every surface, this was a true disaster. The Constantine jumped into looking in the furthest corner of the room, tossing useless trinkets or empty bags over her shoulders. It was a wonder she got anything accomplished when she lived like this.
They searched, well she did as he watched, for a while before she'd, apparently, grown bored of the silence and decided to fill it with questions. "So, you seem pretty attached to this sand."
"It is a part of me." He kept his hands in his pockets and watched as she flew through the space like a hurricane.
"If that's true, then how'd you happen to lose it?" Another toss, one that sounded fatal to whatever the object had been.
The small lingering spark of rage twisted in his lungs. "It was stolen by another magic user called Burgess."
Recognition sparked in her. "Wait, not Roderick Burgess? The old demon king himself, eh?" Recognition shifted to rage. "Woman beating piece of shit, everyone said he had the devil locked up in his basement, wait how did you…"
He'd felt the unpleasant curl of the memories beginning to swarm his mind, but the look she held in her eyes was deeper than mere pity, a realization. "It was you…"
"Yes," he'd said in answer, but the look did not fade.
"No… You're him, the man in the glass."
Impossible. Darkness laced his tongue when he spoke. "How do you know about that?"
"Holy shit." She breathed out, searching quicker for something in the pile. "My flatmate, the one I mentioned, stayed at the Burgess house for two years before the bastard sent her up the river to the looney bin."
He'd stopped breathing. No. This was surely some cruel joke. "That's not…"
She pulled the picture frame out front under a stack of papers and held it up to him. "Does she look familiar to you?"
His fingers curled around the frame, digging into it painfully tight as he stared down in awe. It was her. Curled around Johanna Constantines back, smile wide… Happy and eyes filled with the joy they'd been devoid of their last meeting. How? How was this possible?
The sound of the front door closing restarted his heart and for the first time in eighty years he felt the mark on his arm burn. The tugging sensation snapped into a forceful pull as he turned and looked at the office door.
***
I shut the door with my foot, and shimmied out of my jacket, scratching the puffed up skin of my mark, sending a dull burn through it, as I went. "Johanna!" I called. "You home?"
"In here!" Her voice was muffled by the door, but I could still hear something off.
"I got your usual," I said, opening the door and rummaging through the bag. "But they forgot the… Sauce."
All the air left me as I looked up, expecting to see the face of my flatmate, only to see him, the man I'd spent so many years thinking of, wishing to see just one lsst time. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I wanted to pinch myself, or stab myself with one of the plastic forks but I couldn't seem to move, I couldn't do anything but stare at him. Had he always looked like this? So stoic, so powerful, so beautiful?
Johanna stepped around a pile of junk and grabbed the bag from my hands. "I'm gonna, uh, give you two a minute."
Once the sound of the door had announced her departure the Sandman drew in a breath and spoke the first words I'd ever heard him say, "Hello, Penelope."
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I closed my eyes tightly. The sound of his voice was deep and rich, sending a wave of power and emotion through me like lightning. When I opened them again and he was still there I said nothing, closing the space between us and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. The scent of sea and what I could only describe as stardust flooded my senses, further cementing this as reality. My hands fisted in his coat and for a moment of his body remaining stiff I thought I might have overstepped, but then the touch came, soft feather light pressure of his hand on my back, holding me to him. I didn't know how, but somehow I managed to get the strangled greeting out, "Hi, Sandman."
We stood like that for a minute or two, frozen in the embrace of one another, an embrace I never thought I'd get, before I pulled away and wiped the tears from my eyes. His hand stayed on my back, putting slightly more pressure there as if trying to keep me from moving away any further. The star filled blue eyes I thought of so often finally stared down at me. The sound of his voice surprised me, after years of silence I definitely needed time to adjust to hearing it. Now I just hoped he wanted me to hear it more. "How?"
It was a difficult question to answer, even after all these years. "I don't really know."
"What happened?" He sounded angry, hurt even.
I sighed and pressed my forehead to his chin. Perhaps the gesture had been too intimate, but I didn't care, I just wanted to feel him for as long as I could, as long as he'd let me. "After the basement…" I swallowed hard, pushing the painful flashes down. "I wasn't going to go back… and the only way I could see to do that was to… Well…"
"Throw a car off a bridge?" He finished.
Looking back up into his gaze I shrugged. "I didn't think you knew about that."
"Paul told me," he answered as his eyes filled with pain. "He said you were dead… I thought you were dead."
I blinked away tears. "I think I was… For a little bit at least."
"Then how are you here? How do you look exactly as I remember?" His eyes trailed over my face, my body, honing in on the mark and then on the long jagged scar on the arm across from it, that I'd given myself so long ago.
Shame burned in me as I curled the arm into my chest, pulling at the chain of my necklace to try and hide the fact I didn't want him to see it. "I only remember pulling myself out of the river. Everything before is hazy." His eyes were still glued to my arm so I nudged him gently. "How did you get out?"
His eyes returned to mine. "Paul. He broke the summoning circle, which in turn restored a small portion of my power. I used that to free myself." Another strong pulse of something swelled in me. "I kept my promise. Alex Burgess pays for every second of torment he allowed."
It felt good to hear, and though it was probably terrible, I smiled. "Thank you." Is he angry, hurt, I never came back for him? The sudden thought filled me with dread. "I… I did try to come back for you. I did… But…"
A cold hand stroked my cheek. "Do not apologize. Freeing me was never your burden."
"Still, I wanted you to know I tried. I'd be the worst person ever if I just let you rot there without a second thought, Sandman."
"Morpheus," he whispered and a warm feeling nestled in my chest, like the answer to a question I needed to be whole. "My name is Morpheus, Dream of the Endless."
"Is it Morpheus or Dream?"
"Either, but…" He paused, "People call me Dream mostly, but in private I would like you to call me Morpheus."
"Morpheus," I breathed, tested with a smile. "It's certainly not as catchy as Sandy, but it'll do."
"I hated that name, just so you know," his eyes glistened with the playful tone of his voice. It was so much better than I could have imagined, all of it.
"Oh I knew, but that only made it more fun." I laughed softly, before the silence turned more serious. "I'm glad you got free, Morpheus."
With the smallest hint of a smile he bowed his head, brushing it against the top of mine. "I am glad you did as well, Penelope."
We're getting out of here. You, me and Jessamy. I promise.
"I um... I have something for you," I said, squeezing the glass vial in my hand and stepping around him to get to my desk, buried among Johannas crap. I opened the drawer, fingers stroking the soft bag before I opened it and retrieved the small black pouch. I turned, placing it gently into his hand with care. Morpheus stood looking down at the pouch curiously. "It's... It's Jessamy, well her remains."
His lips parted, shock and pain settling into his features, the feeling pulsing between us. "How?"
"I'm sorry if I've offended you," I said quickly, a moment of fear hitting me. "I didn't really know how you wanted... I was going to bury her, but it just didn't feel right, trapping her in that place. So, I burned her, or well, Paul did… and kept the ashes hoping that, well… Hoping we'd get to have this talk." I rambled nervously, twisting the vial on the chain.
For a long minute all he did was stand there, staring down at the remains of his companion. When he did speak it was quiet, pained but grateful. "You should keep it. To remember her by."
He pressed the pouch back into my palm. "Oh, I... I already have some pieces of her with me."
"I see," he said, lifting the necklace up closer, admiring the feather in the glass vial. "She would have liked that."
"Probably would have tried stealing it from me," I said fondly, the hurt of her loss at last beginning to shift into good memories. Turning our hands I pressed her ashes back into his and smiled against the tears that began to swell. "Now you can take her home. You can find a place she loved and set her free."
His hand slid out from beneath mine, fingers brushing along my palm. "Thank you, Penelope. I will not forget this."
"Don't thank me." I insisted. "I'm sorry I broke my promise."
"I'll not hold it against you," he said, smiling a little. His mouth… I strangled the thought quickly. "I do not possess your unwavering ability to hold a grudge."
I let out a breathy laugh, "You know I highly doubt that."
The air between us had shifted to what it used to be, comfortable, familiar. I was happy. Happy he was finally free, happy he was here. Yet, all the questions I’d long buried, convinced I’d never get to see them answered bubbled back up to the surface. A twinge of confusion, of a need to understand what this was connecting us, filled my chest, and I suppose in turn his. His eyes turned more serious and he nodded his head slightly. “You have questions.”
“Yeah, you could say that…” I muttered.
“I have some answers,” he admitted freely, “But…”
“Later,” I finished, feeling the words before he even spoke them.
“Yes.”
I kept his gaze a moment longer. “There will be a later though, right?”
“Yes.” His fingers grazed my hand. “I promise.”
A loud knock to the door was the only warning we got before Johanna barged in. I took a step away from him, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable under Johannas’ scrutinous stare. "I get that there's some history here, but I'd very much like to find this bag and be done with Mr. Sandman."
I rubbed my chilled hands together. “Okay, well what exactly are we looking for?”
“A bag of sand,” Johanna said bluntly as she began looking around the room haphazardly throwing and stepping on things, as I was certain she had been before I arrived.
While I looked around I could feel Morpheus’ eyes on me, watching every movement, every shift, everything. When I felt his gaze shift, I looked over my shoulder at him, eyes trailing down his fit form. He wore a long black coat that seemed to hold the stars inside it, black boots and well black everything. It looked good. He looks even better naked, I reminded myself. His head turned towards me, faster than I was prepared for. And his voice sounded deeper when he said, “It was one of the tools they’d stolen from me. I need it back.”
“So,” Johanna started, her signature nosey face looking up at him. “You were down in that basement all this time?”
I quickly threw an empty bag at her and gave her the glare I knew she hated. He didn’t bother answering her, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he looked down to a small roll of photos that stuck out of the box beside him. “Is this you?”
“Why?” she practically groaned. “Do I look that different? Or younger?”
She took the photo from his fingers and held it between her own with a gentleness that showed just how much she cared. “No,” Morpheus said. “Happy.”
Suddenly her hand dropped, still holding the picture. “Shit. I know where your sand is.”
“God no,” I groaned with a huff. “You left it with her?”
“I know,” she started rubbing her forehead. “I know.”
I leaned back against one of the desks. “How do you want to do this?”
She shrugged. “The only way we can.”
I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, so we’re finally offering you up as a sacrifice? I always thought it’d be to some demon, but I suppose an ex girlfriend is close enough.”
“Not funny,” she said, slapping my shoulder on her way out the office door.
Looking over at Morpheus I smiled, “It is funny though, isn’t it?”
He looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen before, his eyes so full of fondness… no, that was too tame a word for it. Adoration, I thought, but quickly pushed aside. He didn’t adore me, he barely knew me. After a minute his lips tugged into a smile, small and fleeting, but still there. “You can be quite amusing.”
“Hear that Jo! Sandy agrees with me!” I hollered, basking in the look of utter disgust and annoyance that spread across his face that the familiar nickname.
“You are not calling me that any longer,” he commanded.
“You gonna make me stop?” I teased, far more flirtatiously than I’d been intending, at least out loud.
He arched a brow, taking a step forward, looking down at me with a darker gaze than normal. “I could.”
Johanna cursed from the other room. “Pen, where's my coat?”
“Raincheck?” I asked softly.
“I suppose, so long as you bite your tongue the next time you feel the urge to call me Sandy.” A wave of heat rolled over me. God that voice, I thought and his eyes flared. I wonder what it would sound like when he- “You should be mindful of your thoughts.”
Heat rose to my cheeks and my eyes went wide, embarrassment filling every fiber of my being. “Can you?” He nodded. “Oh god.”
I caught a glimpse of his smirk before he erased it completely. “I can’t hear every thought, just the loud ones… the ones you can’t seem to keep to yourself.”
“How long have you been able to do that?” I demanded, unable to meet his gaze.
“The duration of this conversation.”
More heat as I covered my face with my hands as I recalled all the things I’d thought over the last few minutes. “Oh god.”
He said nothing, but I could feel the pride he felt, and could see the smirk once again before it vanished. Johanna popped back through the door. “Found it. You okay Pen?”
“Yep!” I cheered, quickly moving for the door. “Let’s go!”
“I’ll meet you there,” Morpheus said, voice full of amusement at my expense. I looked back at him, Asshole. The glint in his eyes told me he heard it.
Johanna and I stood on the corner, waiting for the cab, when she finally looked over and said, “So, you and the Sandman?” I opened my mouth ready to tell her it wasn’t like that when she shook her head. “Don’t even try to tell me it isn't like that. I saw you checking him out.”
“Jo,” I whispered. “It’s complicated.”
She pulled me to her side. “Look, I’m not gonna lecture you. You’re like ninety years older than me and we both know you wouldn’t listen. Besides, I’m not really one that should be giving out this kind of advice. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I smiled at her. “I’ve been through worse, Jo. And for the record I’m only seventy six years older than you, I’m not ancient.”
“Not like your boyfriend.” She didn’t waste any time with the dig.
“Shut up.”
***
Dream felt like he was on fire. He had since the moment she embraced him. His eyes watched her as she walked ahead of him and Constantine, humming with her hands in her pockets and a slight skip in her step. The simple dress she’d worn bouncing up slightly with every movement, raising just enough that he could catch glimpses of her thighs. Dream found himself unable to stop thinking of the heated thoughts she’d unknowingly shared with him, of how tame they were in comparison to his.
“Who is she?” He decided to ask Constantine, an attempt to clear his thoughts and remind himself of what his focus had to be. “The woman in the picture.”
“Her names Rachel, Rachel Moodie.”
“Does she deal in magic as well?”
She scoffed, slowing beside him. “God no. No, She’s actually a decent person. Proper job, nice family. She fuckin’ hated all the magic stuff.”
“And yet you left the sand with her.”
“I did not leave it with her. Sort of left it, and her.” The two shared a look, hers one of pain and guilt and his one of understanding, perhaps even sympathy if he was feeling generous. Constantine looked away and released a huff of annoyance. “I was staying at her place for a few months. She interpreted that as us living together, which we weren’t, so, one night I just went on a job and… never went back.”
“Why?” He hadn’t meant to ask it, but as he watched Penelope look up to the sky and smile the word just slipped past his lips.
"Because it never ends well, does it?" She looked over at him, following the steady gaze that fell on her flatmate.
"What? Love?" Dream looked down at her for a moment before his eyes returned ahead of them to Penelope. If one fact had remained true over the long years that had separated them it was that he did not deserve her. "No, I suppose it doesn't."
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people around me tend to get ripped in half or cast down to Hell.”
“Not all of them,” he replied.
Johanna smiled, looking over at the girl they both seemed to share a common fondness of. “She’s different. Pen doesn’t need me to look after her, not really. She’s been through far worse and somehow come out of it all still her… Still good. But Rachel, she wasn’t used to this kind of life. It was safer for her if I left.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“No.” She said as they finally neared the door. “I suppose I’ll have to now.”
Penelope hopped down from the step and gestured to the door. “It’s still her.”
“Bollocks.” She shoved her friend up to the box. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she won’t be-” The sound of the door buzzing echoed in the small enclosed space and Constantines face fell. “Weird… She didn’t even ask who it is.”
“Johanna,” Penelope tried to interrupt.
“Maybe she’s expecting someone. This could get awkward. More. Awkward.”
“Do you want me to come up with you?” Penelope asked once the nervousness became too obvious to ignore.
“No, you lot wait here.”
“I’m coming with you,” he insisted, not wanting to risk her running again.
“No you’re not. Do you have any idea how much she probably hates me right now? Do you have ex girlfriends?” His jaw clenched. Yes, he had many… Many who would not be pleased to see him ever again. Many whom he would have to tell her about. No. He forced the cold thought. No, he would retrieve his tools, save the dreaming, give her whatever explanation he needed to in order to satisfy her curious mind and then he would let her go back to her life. The life she’d built without him, the one she knew and the one that would keep her safe.
“I will not wait long.”
“You won’t have to,” Constantine assured. “She’s gonna slam the door in my face.”
He and Penelope waited until the door slammed closed before looking at one another. She leaned over towards him, “How long do you think it’ll take them to get undressed?”
Tilting his head at her he smiled. “What makes you think this woman will be keen on reconnecting?”
She shrugged. “I just know Johanna.”
***
The rain had started not long after Johanna disappeared upstairs and as it began to come down harder a small black mass shot down from the sky and landed roughly onto the pavement. Morpheus looked down with a sigh. “Matthew.”
“This is a bad idea.” The raven shook off his wings and looked at Morpheus, then to me. “Uh, sorry, I thought it was just you out here.”
My eyes widened at the voice of the bird. “Oh… the raven talks.”
“The raven has a name,” he said grumpily.
Morpheus sighed. “Penelope, this is Matthew.”
I knelt down and smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Matthew. Sorry I’m just a bit new to talking animals, or spirits, or whatever it is you are.”
His feathers smoothed out. “I guess that’s fair. I’m kind of new to this too.”
“You’re a magnificent raven,” I said, holding a hand out. “Would you like me to hold you? So you don’t have to look up so high?”
“Well… Yeah, I guess that sounds nice.” He said slowly, hopping into my hand and gripping me tightly as I rose back up and held him out to Morpheus, who looked at us with a softness in his usual hard exterior expressions.
“Anyway, I say this as someone who was recently human.” I let the question go. Later. “Human beings cannot be trusted.”
“No.”
“If I were Johanna Constantine, I’d be up there cutting a deal with Rachel to keep the sand, then cut the dream sand with real sand and sell it to the highest bidder.”
"Johanna wouldn't do that," I assured him.
"Well you're not exactly impartial, are you?"
"Maybe not, but one thing to know about me dear Matthew is I'm very good at spotting monsters." I stuck my free hand out into the stream of rain, letting it pool in my palm and run through my fingertips. "And Johanna isn't a monster. She's just seen too much and lost even more."
I could feel Morpheus' eyes watching me and not the raven, but when I looked back up his eyes had shifted. “Well, I wasn’t the best person when I was a person. We can’t all be Jessamy, who was apparently perfect in every way.”
I giggled, earning a look from both of them. “Sorry, it’s just, Jessamy was far from perfect.”
“You knew her too?”
“Kind of.” I said leaning back against the wall. “She never spoke to me, I didn’t even know she could, but we spent a lot of time together.”
“So, what was she like then?” Matthew asked carefully, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.
“She was brilliant,” I began, noticing the sad gleam in the sandman's eyes. “Sly as a fox and fast as the wind in a storm. She also liked to steal my things, ribbons, rocks, anything I’d collected that she took a liking to. Jessamy was also quite a bitch,” I admitted with a laugh. “She was always picking at my hair and clothes and swooping down to scare me.”
Matthew sighed. “She sounds nice.”
“She was.” I said. “But, she was just like you. Not better or worse.”
Morpheus looked at the bird with a sigh. “Matthew I-”
“I get that you don’t think you need a raven, but if you’re out here, waiting for human beings to help anyone but themselves you’re gonna be sitting out here in the rain forever. Whatever they’re doing up there, they’re not thinking about you.”
“Oh they sure aren't,” I chuckled.
“What’s funny?”
“Dear Matthew, I’m willing to bet they’re up there tearing each other's clothes off.”
“No way!” He cawed. “They’re definitely planning a doublecross.”
I looked down at him and smiled. “You want to bet on it?”
“I’m a raven, I don’t really have anything to bet.”
“True.”
“How about this, the loser buys the winner the meal of their choice.”
I cocked a brow at him. “Do you have a wallet hidden in those feathers?”
He shook his head slightly. “No, but I do have the tall guy.”
Looking up at Morpheus’ unimpressed stare I pressed my bottom lip out slightly, pouting. “Please, O great dream god!”
"I'm not a god." His voice was stiff. "I am one of the Endless."
"The Endless. Sounds very ominous.”
"The Endless are beings of great power that maintain the order of this world. Myself and my siblings," he explained.
I hummed thoughtfully. "You don't sound too fond of them."
He sent me a look. "There are a few that are... Troublesome."
"Just like in any family I suppose." I smiled. "How many are there?"
“More than enough.”
I shrugged. “Okay, well then, O great Dream of the Endless, will you please agree to the terms of our bet?”
He glanced down at the raven then back at me. “Very well.”
“Okay then, let's go. Prepare to lose, raven boy.” I said standing next to the door and hitting the buzzer. Nothing. I looked over at Morpheus whose face had turned sour. “That’s not good is it?”
“No, it is not.”
***
Upon finding Constantine in the hall Dream knew the only thing capable of this was none other than the sand they were here to retrieve. He stood back and watched Penelope as she attempted to soothe the dazed woman. With watering eyes Constantine glared at him. “What did you do to me?”
“It was the sand.” He was unsure of how to prepare her for what no doubt lay beyond the door of the bedroom.
“Where’s Rachel?” His jaw clenched, an act that only seemed to spur her into action. She pushed past Penelope and opened the bedroom door. “Rachel? Rach?”
“Jo? Jo, is that you?” The weak reply barely made it to the door as he followed in after the two women. “That’s such a wonderful dream.”
There, lying in the bed with hollow cheeks and skin clinging to bone, decaying in the bed of pillows was Constantine’s ex lover. She was barely clinging to life just as she clung to the pouch in her decrepit hand. He moved slowly, not wanting to disturb the unsettled quiet that had filled the room. Penelope stayed by the door, watching Johanna with a sorrowful gaze as her friend looked up to him. “What’s happened to her?”
“It was not meant for humans,” he said simply as he pulled the bag from her hand.
“No! Wait, please. It hurts,” She groaned.
He turned away, heading towards the door with a steeled expression. “We can go.”
“What?” Johanna demanded. “What we can’t go, we can’t leave her like this.”
It was Penelope’s eyes that he met as he spoke. “We can’t help her. The sand was the only thing keeping her alive.”
He could feel Constantine behind him, could feel her anger as she began speaking, but he didn’t care. All he saw was the sorrow in Penelope’s eyes, sorrow that he’d seen before so many times he’d lost count. But this time was different. This time he had no one to be angry with but himself. He had been responsible for this in some way, hadn’t he? He had been the reason the sand found its way into the mortals' hands, whether it was unintended or not it didn’t matter, not to him.
So he turned and gave Constantine a command, “Wait outside.”
He watched the woman apologize to her dying lover, watched her press a kiss to her forehead, an act that spurred his own memory of the goodbye he’d once thought was forever. And then, without a word to anyone Constantine left. He watched her go, eyes settling on Penelope for a moment before he spoke. “You should go with her.”
Facing the dying woman whom he had, unknowingly, put there he waited for the door to close behind her. It didn’t. Instead she moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Rachel Moodie, taking her frail hand and holding it close. She looked up at him when he didn’t move and gave him a soft nod. She was staying. Staying beside a woman she didn’t know? Then it hit him.
It wasn’t Rachel Moodie she was staying for, not really. And so he opened the pouch, grabbing a small handful of sand and sprinkled it over Rachel Moodie. The sand fell across her face, but some of it swirled in the air drifting towards Penelope and circling over her. As the life faded from Rachel the sand retreated and settled once again. Penelope pressed a soft kiss to the woman's hand and gently set it beside her as she fell into her final slumber.
***
Johanna leaned against the wall, staring out at the rain as Morpheus and I came down. He stayed behind, giving the two of us space to talk while he spoke with Matthew. She didn't look at me when she spoke. "Was it quick?"
"Yes. She died dreaming of you," I replied, recalling the beautiful sun filled vision.
Her jaw clenched. "I didn't deserve her."
Standing beside her, shoulders touching, I shrugged. "Maybe not, maybe no one deserves anybody, but she loved you all the same and I know you loved her too."
As Morpheus drifted closer I moved out of the way so the two could speak alone. I'd hoped Johanna would be less hard on him than she had been upstairs, but the wound was fresh, and Johanna didn't deal with loss as tactfully as others. I knelt down to Matthew and sighed. "In light of recent events I think we should call off our bet."
"Yeah, seems kind of in bad taste, all things considered."
"Next time I'll beat you though," I assured him.
He laughed. "Not a chance Penny."
"Penny?" I asked with a smile.
"Yeah, cause you're all shiny!"
"I'm shiny?"
"Yeah, at least in these raven eyes of mine you are." He looked at me, as if double checking. "You got a very nice… Glow… Thing going."
"Well that's weird," I replied. "But that's kind of just been the new normal for me I guess. It's a nice nickname. I don't think anyone's called me that before."
He took a tiny bow. "I am a raven of many talents!"
When I stood back up and dusted off the dirt Johanna and Morpheus both looked away from me. Her attention turned to the little raven as she instructed him to take care of his master then she unfurled her umbrella and stepped into the rain. "You comin Pen?"
"I'll catch up with you later," I told her, settling into the spot she'd vacated.
"Be safe," she called as she hurried off to the cab.
"How'd she take it?" I asked.
"Better than most."
I nodded. "Yeah, she's had her share of this shit. She'll deal with it, in her own way."
"How are you?" He asked softly.
"I'm alright." I shrugged. "I've gotten used to being surrounded by death."
"I suppose you have."
With a short glance at one another I asked, "I'm still perfectly fine with the whole later talk we need to have after you've got your tools back, but I have to know… did this," I gestured to my arm. "Did it keep me from dying that day?"
"No." He looked out at the rain and shook his head. "I am not even certain I have the answer as to how you survived. I'm just… I am glad you did."
I stepped towards him. "Oh? Would you have missed me?"
A pulse, strong and steady hummed between us. "More than you know."
I blushed. "You probably say that to all your friends." Friends. The word felt entirely too plain.
"I am Dream of the Endless, I do not have friends," he said lowly.
"Everyone needs a friend, Dream." I replied. "Is that not what we are?"
The blue of his eyes darkened. "I do not think that friends is a strong enough word to describe what we are."
"Best friends?" I whispered in a light teasing tone.
"Something like that," he said with mischief in his eyes.
"Well, best friend," I said. "Good luck getting your stuff back."
He looked out at the rain. "Are you intending to wait until the downpour ends?"
"And miss the rain?" I stepped out under the cold shower and smiled at him. "Never!"
"Goodbye, Penelope."
"Goodbye, Morpheus. I look forward to later!"
I danced through the rain all the way to the road, feeling his eyes on me every step until I faded from his view, where I called a cab to get me back to the apartment. Soaking wet footsteps trailed behind me as I walked through the door and got onto the elevator. A minute passed brfore the lights flickered and flashed for a seconds before the elevator stopped entirely. Soon the power cut out, flooding the pitch blackness of the elevator with red. "Great," I grumbled.
The pungent tang of sulfur burnt my nose and a wave of freezing dread filled me. In the distorted reflection of the elevator doors a shadow rose, twisted and deformed. A long gnarled hand reached towards me and then it fell like a pool of water, gone, at least from my sight.
Heart pounding I turned, checking every reflective surface, looking up the ground beneath my feet was nothing but bubbling darkness and my stomach dropped. "Fuc-"
Claws dug into my leg, pulling me down into the darkness before the scream could even form in my throat. I thrashed and clawed trying to find some kind of grip as whatever had grabbed me dragged me through whatever portal it had been capable of opening up. Sharp rocks sliced my arms and hands and dust... No, ash filled my nose.
The claws released me, dropping me into a straight plummet down. I fell for less than a minute before my body slammed into a cold smooth floor of black. On the ground, over my gasping and disoriented form, the shadow of two large wings unfurled. Every inch of me wanted to curl into itself, every instinct I had told me to run, to get as far away from here as I could.
TW: blood, nonconsensual surgical procedures, gore/body horror, mental issues, attempted suicide, ANGST. This chapter is a LOT guys so if you’re sensitive to any of the above please take your time and if you need to skip please do so, I can summarize the important events to anyone that needs it ❤
White walls, endless halls, happiness and health to find. The floors reflected everything that moved in their waxed perfection, shapes twisted and curled within the depths. If I stared at it long enough the faces would start to stare back and they didn’t like it when I watched them. So pristine, all of it, right down to the sparkling door knobs that giggled when I passed by, nothing but gossips they were. A single drop of red hit the glossy floor beneath me, another followed, more followed that until a pool had formed. White walls, endless halls… Pools of blood and bone. My heart thudded faster and faster. White walls, endless halls, screams and wails consume you. My lungs burned for air as the breath left me. White walls, endless halls, nothing can save you now. A ringing echoed in my ears. Red blood on every floor. Red walls painted over. Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.
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