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Chapter Text

The Endless have rules. Strict rules, as they should, because one can never truly imagine the havoc they would reap should those rules not exist. The rules are unspoken to most, kept close to that of the hearts of the Endless, not to protect them, but to protect the rest of the world. As it should be.

Of course, as siblings do, rules exist for a reason. Destiny and Dream, the eldest, allowed the rules to be put into place. Cementing them into being through their shared power, some learned from their own mistakes, others formed to be sure their power did not corrupt what it was they were born to serve, and others that came about because of their siblings. 

But as the eldest form the rules, the middle children tend to test them, and both Dream and Destruction knew how to test those rules, once upon a time. Testing and bending, they say, seeing how far they could push until something snapped back at them. Suffering the consequences. Destruction never quite stopped pushing, though Dream… as of late… became far more cautious. Two brothers, two different circumstances, two different outcomes, one could say. 

Then, to add to that, the youngest always seem to believe the rules don’t apply to them, or, at least, they find ways to get around those rules. Slinking around them and causing mayhem in their own right. Desire, Despair, and Delirium truly loved to bend the boundaries set by their older siblings, searching for the hidden loopholes within the clause, and it was all the more fun when they got around them. For them, at least.

But there were rules for a reason. Rules such as: “Should You Spill The Blood Of The Family, Harm Shall Befall You As Well.”

Hadn’t that been a surprise, when Dream finally realized that killing Rose Walker would have caused harm to him. He had suspected something as such when he learned of a child born in the Dreaming, but to think his own sibling was so willing to condemn him to such a fate…

…There was truly no hope for him.

Beyond that, there was another rule, one that Dream, himself, liked to press and prod. This particular rule was quite simple: “Not To Fall In Love With Mortals, For Nothing Good Can Come Out Of Such Union.”

Dream has had many romances through his life. Many people he has allowed himself to love, allowed himself to fall in love with. And each time, each of his lovers has met a cruel, painful fate.

Nada. Oh, Nada. Dream knew better than to love a mortal, and yet he ignored the warnings and the signs. For he loved her, and she him. But where Nada had the strength to try and deny their love, Dream did not, and for that, she had suffered. 

Her kingdom became nothing. Her people became nothing, all that was left was a small tribe. And she denied him their love. So he condemned her.

For an Endless could love for eternity. And an Endless could hold their fury that much longer.

He forgave, Nada. He had to. That time he was imprisoned, that encounter, the events that followed. What happened between them was a tragedy and Dream knew it, yet he had taken his anger out on her, despite it being his fault.

His fault. His burden.

Hob Gadling was right. He was lonely. 

He’d never admit that to anyone. Not even his sister.

The rules of the Endless were there for a reason. To protect. To guard. Even if they could not appreciate them, they knew they needed to be followed. 

To love was a death sentence.

A curse he must carry so long as he existed.

—-----------------------------

“Rose Walker?” 

Spinning around, Rose found herself face with a tall, bald woman wearing glasses, staring at her in shock and incrediality. She looked almost human, except that her ears were pointed, like an elf. It took Rose a moment to think, to process, but then she remembered.

“Um, Lucienne, right? That’s what Morpheus called you?”

“I…” the woman seemed unsure what to say, eyeing her up and down, clearly just as shocked to see her as Rose was to see Lucienne. “Yes. That is my name. But… what are you doing here?”

“I invited her,” came a familiar voice, strong, bold, yet said with a rasp from constant unuse, but mixed with a softness of one whispering. The voice cut through the world like a knife, sending a chill through Rose’s spine, though surprisingly not unpleasant, even if the owner of the voice brought her disdain. “My apologies, Lucienne, I meant to bring her into the throne room, but I got rather distracted while I was summoning her from her dreams. I will be… keeping that book a bit longer.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Lucienne nodded, a fond, somewhat amused smile crossing her face. “I will leave you to it.”

Rose wasn’t sure she wanted to face the owner of the voice, but her sheer curiosity caused her to face him head on. She hoped she looked defiant or angry, but Morpheus had not spoken to her or any of them since he came and randomly spoke Daniel’s name.

A tall, skinny, pale man with a sharp jaw, clad in black robes and equally black hair tousled about in that way that looked like a bed head, but oddly worked for him. And his eyes… they seemed normal at first glance, perhaps a soft blue-gray, but when she looked closer, it was as if she was swimming in an endless sea of stars.

“Rose Walker,” Dream gave her a kind smile.

“Lord Morpheus,” Rose greeted back, her voice wavering with her uncertainty of the situation. “Is this-?”

“The Dreaming,” he nodded to her, offering his hand for her to take. “The library, within the Dreaming, to be precise. Here, there is a record of every book ever written, and a record of every soul that exists within the waking.” He paused when she still had yet to take his hand. “You need not worry, Rose Walker. You are here by my power this time. Your life as the Dream Vortex ended with Unity Kincaid.”

Rose hesitated a moment before taking his hand, allowing herself to grip his arms as he guided her from the library and towards his throne room. She took in the sight of it all, the strange creatures who eyed her as she passed through the walls of the castle. Eventually, she found herself dropping her gaze after locking eyes with a pumpkin headed scarecrow thing, trying not to stare and seem rude. Which meant her gaze fell on the book Morpheus had tucked under his arm. 

“Is that-?”

Morpheus paused, his gaze following hers as he lifted the book for her to see. “Your book? Yes. Quite brilliant, actually. Though I do hope you’ll be a little kinder to the King in the sequel.”

“The sequel?” Rose squeaked as she gingerly took the book from his hands. “But this… I haven’t even… how did you…?”

“The Dreaming is the place of stories, Rose Walker,” Morpheus gave her an amused smile as she looked into his eyes. “A place where stories become dreams. It is only natural that a book that will one day inspire the dreams of others would appear here. And now that your fate no longer teeters on the edge of Death, your book appeared here. Many of the dreams here quite like it.”

“I… I am so sorry, I can chang-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Morpheus said, his voice gentle as he once more guided her on their path to the throne room, “Though I was not… pleased with how you may have deemed to portray me at first, it has been brought to my attention that given the circumstances, it was only natural for you to conclude that I was not to be trusted.”

“You did threaten to take my best friend’s baby away,” Rose agreed, clutching the book to her chest as if it were Daniel, as if she could protect him.

“Yes, I fear I should have been more considerate. Careful with my words. As it has been pointed out to me on several occasions as of late, I have never been very good at interacting or communicating.”

“What, with humans?”

“With anyone.”

They were in the throne room now, and Morpheus took a moment to dismiss a short looking woman clad in pink with brown hair, who had clearly been scrubbing the room till it sparkled. When the woman, Nuala, if Rose heard correctly, had left, closing the doors behind her, Morpheus turned back to her. Rose, however, was observing the throne room, it being as grand and large as she remembered. The only difference being that the three stained glass windows behind his throne no longer depicted the dreams that were missing. Instead, Rose found herself staring at a… being with golden eyes in the center. On the left was Lyta and Daniel. On the right was Rose and Jed.

She turned to Morphues, fear gripping her chest.

“Why am I here?”

“I believe it best I give you an explanation,” Morpheus admitted, motioning to a table that had materialized in the center of the room. “I owe both you and Lyta Hall that, Rose Walker. But I fear that Lyta Hall will not truly listen to what I have to say. So, I thought it best to speak to you alone.”

“Not alone, of course,” a voice piped up, and a Raven landed on the table. “I’ll be here to make sure that no miscommunication happens. How are you, Rose? How’s your brother?”

“Jed and I are fine, thank you, Matthew,” Rose couldn’t help but smile at the little bird. 

“Glad to hear it,” the bird seemed to beam at her, if that was even possible. “Now, why don’t we all sit down and Dream, here, can start at the beginning.”

“Dream?”

“Dream is the name I was born to,” Morpheus explained softly, moving to pull out the chair for Rose like some weird 18th century gentleman. “Morpheus was a name I acquired later in my life, as I have with many of the names I go by. You may call me whatever you wish, Rose Walker.”

“Oh…kay,” Rose nodded, trying to wrap her head around this. “I’ll call you Dream! It’s easier than Morpheus. But you have to call me Rose, okay?”

“Rose,” Morp-Dream said softly, her name falling softly from his lips like a whisper said just a bit too loud. “I will do my best to do so.”

Rose smiled at him, bright and cheerful. It felt like some sort of tense air had been thrown away with just that simple exchange. It was nice, and Rose found the smile on Dream’s face was somewhat genuine.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning,” Dream sighed, letting the tension rise again. But there was more than tension in that moment. Rose could see it. Dream was pained, and, dare she say it, scared. “Over 100 years ago, I went to stop the Corinthian, and in the process, I entered the waking world as a cult of humans had decided they wanted to try and imprison my sister, Death. As a result, I was imprisoned instead, and I was trapped in the waking world as the dreaming fell apart without me. As a result, Unity Kincade, the Dream Vortex, fell into a deep slumber.”

On the table before her, Rose found herself watching Dream’s life, despite how short and clipped his words were, lacking a true tale, she saw it all take shape in the sand before her. From his imprisonment to his escape, to finding his tools and the journey it took to get them back. All in seconds, though it felt like years, the story acted out before her. 

When she finally looked back at Dream, she found she had been crying, understanding the pain he must have gone through, and she saw Dream was not looking at the table, instead found that he was stroking Matthew’s back. Gently. Mechanically.

Rose stood up, rounded the table, and threw her arms around Dream.

It took her a moment to realize what she had done, but she didn’t let go right away. Because though Dream had tensed, he wasn’t pulling away.

“Sorry,” Rose said as she pulled back, looking into Dream’s eyes as he stared at her in shock. “You just… I felt like you needed a hug.”

“He probably needs several,” Matthew hummed, getting a glare from Dream. “Continue, my lord.”

The last part was said mockingly, and if Raven’s could smile, Matthew was definitely snickering around his. Rose meanered her way back to the chair, sitting down and sucking in a breath. 

“I did not mean to upset you,” Dream said, voice now cautious, scared. 

“I’m not upset because of what you told me,” Rose shook her head. “I’m upset it happened. I’m upset you had to suffer like that. No one deserves that.”

Dream seemed unsure how to respond to that, and Rose could see, now, that kindness was not something Dream understood. Especially not from mortals. It was clear he didn’t truly know how to handle it, how to accept it. 

Perhaps that was why he had such a hard time communicating with mortals. 

“Yes, well,” Dream waved his hand across the table. “As you know, now, my imprisonment caused many to fall into a deep sleep, including that of your great grandmother, Unity Kincade. Her dreams allowed her to live a full, happy life, but while she slept, she found herself confronted by my sibling. Desire.”

“Desire?”

Turning around at Dream’s motioning wave of his hand, Rose found herself looking at the stained glass window of the figure with gold eyes. 

“My younger sibling, yes,” Dream spoke. “We have… never gotten along, my sibling and I. They took advantage of Unity in her sleep state while I was away, and combining the Vortex with our blood… they laid the perfect trap.”

“Trap?”

Turning away from the image of the person that was Rose’s great grandparent, Rose once more looked into Dream’s eyes. 

“Yes, I suppose I should,” here Dream paused, once more running his hand over the table. “My family, Rose. My siblings and I were born by the union of Time and Night. From their union was that of myself and my siblings. Destiny, Death, myself, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium. We make up that of the Endless, each of us ruling over our respective realms. As such, we have rules. One such rule is that of “Should You Spill The Blood Of The Family, Harm Shall Befall You As Well.” The perfect trap.”

“The perfect…” Rose let those words wash over her, head looking at the seven figures that had formed in the sand, her head whipping around to look at the stained glass, then back to look at Dream. “The perfect… trap?”

Rose sucked in a breath. Desire. Her great grandparent. Dream had once said she was of Endless, and now he called himself Endless. Which meant… she was…

“You’re my… great… grand… uncle?”

“I…” again, Dream seemed entirely unsure how to handle this response. “Yes. I supposed I am. But that isn’t quite the point I intended to make.”

“No, I know what you meant,” Rose shook her head, sinking into her chair as she put a hand to her spinning forehead. “If you had killed me, you would have died, too, or something like that. Which is… which is what Desire wanted. For you to kill me. Right?”

Dream nodded. 

“But that means… we’re related,” Rose said, sinking further till her back was on the seat part of the chair and she could only just make out the top of Dream’s head. “We’re actually family. You and your siblings and your parents. You’re the only family Jed and I have left.”

“Yes. That is correct, I’m afraid.”

Slapping her hands on the arm of the chair, Rose pushed herself up, determination coming over her. Dream seemed suddenly unsure of this entire exchange, and he glanced nervously at Matthew.

“So if we’re family, that means you can treat us like family, right? Like… like how you treat your siblings?”

Dream looked positively mortified by that suggestion.

“I would never ,” Dream said, his voice taking on a grave, furious aura. “I promised no harm would come to your family, Rose. Especially by my hand. You need not fear that from me. I promise you that.”

Okay. Clearly they were of two different mindsets.

“He, uh, doesn’t get along with most of his siblings,” Matthew told her in a whisper as Dream pushed himself to his feet and began to pace the length of the room. “Desire did try to kill him, and Despair is Desire’s twin, and from what I’ve heard, they’re often in kahoots. Delirium is… self-explanatory, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. Destiny is kind of a recluse. The only sibling Dream really gets on with is Death, and she’s a bit busy guiding souls to the afterlife to be able to spend much time with him.”

“What about Destruction?” Rose whispered back, curiously.

“From what I hear he was a kind soul, despite his realm,” Matthew said, feathers seeming to droop. “He really loved his family, but one day… he left. No one has seen him since. Not his friends. And especially not his family. Even Desire and Despair worry about him, though they never discuss it.”

Rose was starting to understand that his imprisonment was not the only reason Dream sucked at communication with others. 

A man who had to surround himself with dreams and false beings so that he wasn’t alone, yet as ruler, he found himself lonelier even still.

Now was not the time for her to be coming up with a sequel to a book that wasn’t technically published yet. 

“Dream!” Rose called to him, watching as he seemed to pace as though unsure what to do with himself. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I want you to stop by from time to time.”

Dream stopped dead in his tracks, whipping around to face her. “You want me to… stop… by?”

“Well, yeah,” Rose shrugged awkwardly. “You’re my great grand-uncle. I’d love to spend more time with you.”

Dream blinked owlishly, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, she might have laughed at the expression on the Dream Lord’s face. But it was clear to Rose that Dream needed her and Jed just as much as they kind of needed him. 

“I mean, Lyta really, really doesn’t like you, so it would have to be when she’s not around,” Rose began to babble, looking to Matthew helplessly before forcing confidence in her voice. “But I’d love to have you, and I’m sure Jed would love to get to know you. He created a whole superhero in his dreams around you. So if you came by when Lyta and Daniel were out-”

“Lyta and Daniel,” Dream suddenly voiced, once more moving to the table. “Yes, yes of course. I nearly forgot the other reason I had brought you here. I must tell you this.”

Dream crossed the room, once more throwing his hand across the table. In the spot where the seven siblings had stood was now the house Lyta held in her dreams, and a small miniature version of Lyta, Hector, and Daniel stood there.

“I once believed, Rose, that Hector Hall was in the dreaming because of you,” Dream began, turning to face Rose. “Except that Hector Hall died before my escape, and he did not die in the dreaming as Unity did.”

“He died in a freak accident,” Rose nodded, looking to Dream. “What does that-?”

“So if you, as the Vortex, weren’t awake, and Hector Hall wasn’t in the dreaming when he died, how did his ghost attach to my realm?”

Rose opened her mouth. Then shut it again. Opened it.

“How?”

“I have no idea,” Dream admitted. “But I have learned long ago that questioning the fates never ends well. I only know what it means.”

Something deep inside Rose told her she didn’t want to know. It told her that asking the question would not help her in this situation.

But she asked anyways.

“What does it mean, Dream?”

“Daniel Hall,” Dream breathed, allowing the image of Daniel and Lyta to grow on the table, “was born of the dreaming and given life in the waking world. A child born of my realm, given form by the Vortex. Not even I can understand the true nature of a Vortex, but in the end, I know what it brings.”

“Death?”

“Yes. And this time, it has foretold the death of one soul.”

Rose swallowed.

“Who’s?”

A starry sea of black orbs met Rose’s mortal eyes.

“Mine.”

—----------------------------------

Rose jolted awake in bed, breath rising rapidly, wildly. She reached up to scrub at her face, brushing the tears away to no avail. She was back in her bedroom, awake. Part of Rose wished she was still dreaming as she stumbled out of bed, once more trying to stop the tears in vain.

She wasn’t sure if she would ever stop crying. 

She grabbed her house coat, threw on some slippers, and quickly grabbed her apartment key. With one last foolish attempt to stop the tears, Rose went to check on Jed, knowing he was safe in the dream realm with the new version of Gault was watching over him. With that done, she crept out of her house and made her way over to the stairs, climbing them gently to where she could hear the cries of the baby upstairs.

She unlocked Lyta’s door, stepping into the apartment where she could then hear Lyta trying to shush her weeping son.

“Lyta?” Rose called into the nursery.

Lyta visibly startled, spinning around, arms reflexibly curling around her son. It was probably for the best that Dream had not called Lyta to the Dreaming tonight. She wouldn’t have understood. Not like this.

“Rose,” Lyta sighed, clearly relieved. “I’m sorry, did he wake you?”

Rose shook her head. “I was already awake. Kind of read a really sad book and just… needed to be someplace I can cry without Jed worrying. I can take him if you want to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Lyta questioned, fear creeping into her voice.

“Yeah,” Rose nodded, trying to force a smile, glad that the darkness hid her tear-stained face. “Who safer for him to be with than a Dream Vortex, right?”

Lyta, who was definitely an exhausted single mother, needed no further probing as she carefully slid Daniel into Rose’s arms. From there, Lyta crawled into her own bed and slowly drifted to sleep. Once Rose was sure Lyta was asleep, Rose sucked in a breath, sat herself on the edge of Lyta’s bed, and looked down to Daniel.

“It’s not fair,” Rose whispered to him. “To any of us, Daniel. To you, to your mom, to Dream. It’s not fair.”

She sniffed, trying in vain to scrub at her tears again, remembering the conversation she just had. 

“Yours?”

“Daniel is a child of the dreaming, Rose. The first in centuries. The first that I can ever remember. And I am the dreaming, Rose. When the time comes, my time in this role will be over and it will be Daniel who will rise as my heir, as the next Dream of the Endless.”

“But… that means… you’ll die.”

“Yes. It does. I knew my fate the minute I saw Lyta Hall pregnant, even if I didn’t understand it at the time. I can only assume that Lyta Hall was chosen as his mother because of her close proximity to you, and Hector Hall was chosen for that same reason.”

“But… but you can’t die!”

“I have no say in my fate anymore than a mortal. When the time comes, I will die, and that which makes up my being will come for Daniel to claim him. The child of the Dreaming will become the Dreaming.”

“But you’re my family! I just found that out! You can’t just die on me! Not when I just got you!”

“It’s not fair,” Rose repeated, as she rocked Daniel to sleep. “Oh, Daniel. What are we going to do?”

Baby Daniel only babbled, cooing at Rose’s tear stained face as if sensing that Rose truly was upset and that trying to outdo her would only make the situation worse. Rose assumed that an heir to that of the Endless would have to be rather clever, even as a baby. Or perhaps babies were just smarter than they let on.

“Look at me, Daniel,” Rose hummed, somewhat hysterically as she tried to wipe her tears on her sleeve. “I’m crying over someone I barely know, mourning someone still alive. How stupid is that?”

Daniel gave a grumpy little huff, as if he didn’t think it was stupid at all, and he popped a little bubble in his mouth bursting into giggles afterwards.

Oh for life to be as simple as that of a baby’s life.

“He wanted me to be kinder to the King in the sequel,” Rose hummed, pushing to her feet so she could walk them around the room. “Should I be kinder to him, Daniel?”

Daniel gave a little cooe, as if urging her to go and do it right that very instance. 

“Well, then, how should we start?” Rose sat herself on the bed once more. “King Somnio woke on the ground, cold and bare, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come as his cage of glass formed around him. For his punishment was that of immortal suffering. No food. No water. No air. Just him and his captors. Trapped for the next 100 years.”

Just as Dream had been. Only for Dream’s ending to be…

“Rose-”

“No! No! You can’t do that! You can’t just come into my life and tell me you’re dying! Everyone dies! First my mom! Then my dad! Then Hector! Unity, too! What next? Will I lose Jed, too?! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair!”

She was sobbing, wildly, eyes blurry with tears as she screamed at something, anything, demanding to know why fate was so cruel. Perhaps she should yell at Destiny. Or maybe even Death. Why must she suffer this way? Why must everything end? Why must she suffer?

Dream. Dream was here. Dream was here . His arms were wrapped around her in an awkward but earnest attempt at a hug, and they were both sinking to the ground as she buried her face in his chest and wailed the pure agony this brought her to the wind. To the dreams. 

She may no longer have been the Vortex, but the Dreaming shook with her cries of mourning. The realms shook with it as she mourned the family she had only just gained only to know she would lose it just as soon. 

And Dream held her, allowed her to cry in his arms, and if she felt his tears in her hair, she would never dare mention them to a soul. 

“Life’s not fair, even to Kings,” Rose continued her little tale. “And in this case, life certainly wasn’t fair to King Somnio.”

—----------------------------------

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Merv stood before the throne room doors, Lucienne and Matthew by his side. “The entire dreaming shook with her cries. If this meeting went wrong and he’s in a bad mood-”

“It didn’t,” Matthew insisted for what felt like the millionth time. “He just…” a huff of annoyance from the raven as he ruffled his feathers. “Look, I really think he should see that, alright? Trust me.”

“I don’t think it went wrong,” Nuala agreed, glancing once more into the room. “I have heard tale of his anger and his heartbreak in the dreaming. I think he is more… confused? Concerned? Maybe Matthew is right. Maybe it will help.”

Merv still looked unconvinced, but Lucienne simply nodded, clutching the book in her hands as she pushed the doors open. 

Dream, they found, was relaxed on his throne, legs thrown over one arm rest, and one arm behind his head while the other held a book far enough away so he could read it. It was so uncharacteristic of the Dream Lord that Lucienne actually stuttered in her steps, eyes going wide. Poor Nuala slammed into Lucienne’s back at the sudden halting, both only saved from crashing to the floor by Merv’s quick hands. However, Matthew had no such problem as he flew across the throne room and landed on Dream’s knee.

“Hey, Lucienne has something she wants to show you!” Matthew called to the Dream Lord, pausing on his shoulder to glance at the book. “Wait, are you reading it again?”

“It’s a good story,” Dream hummed, pushing himself up so he was sitting properly on his throne. “She should be very proud of what she created.”

“Well, if you liked that one, I believe you’ll be pleased to know the sequel just showed up in the dreaming,” Matthew chirped.

Dream was on his feet in seconds, striding down the stairs at speed that would have made anyone cower (Merv definitely cowered) and he stopped before Lucienne.

“Have you read it?” he demanded, gaze fixed upon the book.

“Yes,” Lucienne nodded. “I’d say it’s better than the first, in my humble opinion.”

“May I?”

Lucienne offered the book to Dream, taking the first book in exchange for the sequel. Dream cracked it open and immediately faltered. 

To My Great Grand-Uncle Morpheus.

A Kinder End.

Chapter Text

Rose had found that sometimes she enjoyed the quiet moments. Between helping Lyta raise Daniel, trying to raise Jed, and occasionally talking to old friends, the moments where she could just sit down and write were the best of those moments. Ever since that moment she woke up in the dreaming library, she found that libraries proved to be the best place to do just that.

“Careful of your cup, dear,” a kind old woman named Nancy warned her with a gentle smile as she pushed her cart of books by the little table in the corner Rose had claimed. “Wouldn’t want to spill it.”

Rose, who was rather stumped on how words worked at the moment, turned to smile at the woman. Nancy was what the library called a “Page” and her role was to place the books back on the shelf and organize them. Quite interesting, really. Movies always made it seem like libraries were run by some grumpy old lady with big hair and goofy glasses. Nancy was quite the opposite, always cheery and with the occasional story, glasses that framed her wrinkled face rather well, and hair trimmed in a pixie cut style that matched her speedy walk.

“It’s empty,” Rose showed the kind woman her cup. “I actually finished it shortly after I got in here. Just haven’t gotten up to throw it away.”

“Oh, I can do that for you, sweetheart,” Nancy offered, her voice lifting at her eagerness to help out.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you go out of your way.”

“There are trash cans all over the place,” Nancy waved her hands. “We’ll put it on the bottom of my cart, just to be safe, and I’ll toss it at the first trash can I see. You just keep trying to write. School lets out in two more hours, you know.”

“Thank you,” Rose smiled at the woman, allowing her cup to be taken.

“Of course,” Nancy chimed, and her voice really was that excited that a ‘chime’ was truly the best way to describe it. Then it got even brighter quite suddenly. “Oh! Friend of yours?”

Rose, who had turned back to her laptop after handing over her cup, frowned, lifted her head to look up and saw…

“Hello, Rose.”

“Uncle Dream…”

“You do know each other,” Nancy beamed at the Lord of Dreams, who seemed unused to such brilliant smiles. “Well isn’t that swell. I’ll let you two talk, then.”

Dream thanked Nancy before gingerly pulling out the chair across from Rose and sitting in it. It was silent for a moment, just the two looking at each other.

“Your sequel, I presume?”

“I… How did you…?” Rose cut herself off, remembering that night. “You already read it, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Dream gave her a small, proud smile. “I must say, I liked it far more than the first. Though perhaps I’m a bit biased.”

Rose snorted, burying her face in her hands as she giggled. This whole thing was so ridiculous. She was sitting in a library, in the waking world, across from the King of Dreams, and they were joking about a book written about him that wasn’t even published, let alone fully written.

“He lives in the end,” Dream said after her giggles stopped.

“You asked me for a kinder end,” Rose pointed out. She paused, looking Dream over, checking for anything that could be wrong. “You’re still here.”

“I am… still here,” he agreed.

There was definitely something wrong.

Rose leaned forward, taking his hand in hers, he startled a bit at the touch, eyes going wide. But she supposed the startling wasn’t necessarily bad. He wasn’t pulling away. After the stunned moment seemed to pass, Dream curled his fingers around hers.

“Are you okay?”

Dream pursed his lips, head dropping. “No. No, Rose, I don’t believe I’m okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rose tried.

“No,” Dream shook his head, turning his own hand over so he could grip hers back properly. “May I… stay here awhile, Rose?”

Rose didn’t answer verbally. She simply used her free hand to grab the chair beside her and pull it out, patting the seat with that same hand in invitation. Dream let out a breath of relief and circled the table, sinking down to sit beside her. Rose released his hand for a moment. He chased it, her hand, though quickly pulled back as if realizing what he’d done. But then she was wrapping her hands around his arm and leaning against his shoulder. After a moment, Dream slowly rested his head against hers. 

“Thank you, Rose.”

“Anytime, Uncle Dream,” Rose promised him, humming the words. “Want to come with me to get Jed from school. It’s Friday, so he doesn’t have school tomorrow. He can get to know you.”

Dream hummed against her head. “I will still have to leave one day, Rose.”

“Yeah, but, you’re our Great Grand-Uncle. Jed didn’t get to know mom all that well, and he’ll be mad if I get to know you more than he will. So you have to at least meet him outside of the dreaming, okay?”

“If you insist.”

Rose couldn’t help but grin as she snuggled closer. Even if he wouldn’t stay forever, Rose was just glad to have more family again. And, maybe someday, she could meet the rest of her family, too. 

For now, she was content to sit with Dream, basking in his presence as one of the only family she had left.

“I suppose I’m distracting you from your writing.”

“No. I have a bad case of writer’s block. Have for the last three hours.”

“It will pass. With time, it will pass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure whatever is bothering you will pass, too.”

“It’s already passed. For now. I was given the keys to the gates of Hell.”

Rose might have giggled, had this been someone else.It was the type of thing Carl or Lyta might say when they had to change Daniel’s diaper. But this was Dream of The Endless. So, instead, Rose shot up right and looked at her Great Grand-Uncle with wide, horrified eyes.

“You were given what ?!”

Dream met her eyes. That sea of endless starry skies seemed to be dulled and dimmed, flowing slower than before. Rose’s grip on his arm tightened, fingers digging into black fabric in a vice.

He was still far too skinny, she realized. Did he eat? Take care of himself since his imprisonment?

“They are no longer in my possession,” Dream assured her as if that was the only thing Rose needed to worry about, as if he believed he as the worst person to possess such power. “I was relieved of that problem, and the many other problems it wrought with it.”

He was definitely not taking care of himself.

“Dream…”

“It has been dealt with, Rose. I swear to you. That issue has been resolved.”

“Maybe the first issue was dealt with, but there is another, far worse issue right now,” Rose huffed at him.

Dream was suddenly on full alert, sitting up straight, one hand gripping her arm, the other cupping her face as he looked her over in a way similar to how she had done to him just a bit prior.

“What issue? Are you alright? Has something happened?”

Rose wanted to cry. 

“Unity was right,” Rose sniffed, reaching up to cup Dream’s face in her hands. “You’re not very bright, sometimes, Uncle Dream.”

Dream physically flinched at that, mouth opening to say something. Probably something mean, or some rude retort. But Rose shut that up as she threw her arms around him, buried her face in his chest.

“You big dummy. You’re hurting yourself.”

“Hurting myself?”

Rose just nodded into his chest, not planning to explain any further. Dream still sucked at hugs. Majorly. He clearly had no idea how to hold a person properly, and his arms often twitched, and he was far too stiff. But Rose had hugged Morpheus all of two times and despite the sheer obscurity at his inability to hug properly, she wouldn’t trade these hugs for the world.

“You have to take care of yourself, okay, Uncle Dream?” Rose whispered into his chest. “I don’t want to lose you sooner than I have to.”

“I will try my best, Rose.”

Rose didn’t believe him, but she supposed that was the best she could manage from the Lord of Dreams for now. 

“I need to go get Jed, soon.”

“Of course.”

“Come with me?”

“If you wish.”

—-----------------------------------

“Wait, aren’t you…?”

“You may call me Dream or Morpheus,” he introduced himself to the boy.

“You’re the Sandman!” Jed grinned at him. “Gault told me about you! She says you’re a lot nicer, now.”

Dream… wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Rose giggled into her hand at his perplexed expression. But she watched as he crouched before Jed, reaching into his coat and pulling out a handful of sand. Then, before their eyes, the sand shifted and changed until it revealed a tiny figure of Jed in his costume.

“Having seen you’re dreams, Jed Walker, you are not a half bad Sandman, yourself,” he chose to say, getting face splitting grin from Jed. “For now, call me Dream or Morpheus.”

“Okay, then call me Jed,” the boy said, still grinning at her. “Wait. Am I dreaming?”

This time, it was Dream’s turn to smile, a question he could answer. “No, Jed. We are all very much awake right now. I simply came to visit your sister.”

“Didn’t you… try to kill her?”

“Jeddy,” Rose spoke up, cutting off anything Dream could have said. “He did try to kill me, but he did it because I was killing everyone else. Remember those strange dreams?”

“Yeah.”

“And Great Grandmother Unity saved me, remember? Because she was supposed to be the Vortex, but she had a baby in her sleep.”

“Yeah, I remember. But he still tried to kill you.”

“And that is not something I wished to do, Jed,” Dream assured the boy, gently, quickly. “I only did what I thought I had to, and now that I know I no longer need to, I have no intention of harming you or your sister in any way.”

“What about Daniel?”

“Jed. That’s one of those things we agreed to wait to discuss till you were fifteen, remember?” Rose butted in once more.

“But what if-?”

“I have no intention of taking Daniel Hall,” Dream assured once more, though there was an obvious tiredness to it. “Daniel Hall was created in my realm, and, as such, makes him my heir. One day, Daniel will need to take over for me, and because of this, I will have to come claim him when the time is right so he can watch over the dreams of others.”

“So… you’re not trying to kidnap Daniel?”

“No.”

“Okay. So long as you’re not trying to kill or kidnap anyone, you can hang out with Rose.”

Rose snorted behind Dream, failing to hide her amusement. Dream, however, allowed his amused smile to spread across his face. How interesting. He had assumed the boy’s tact for amusing him had been Gault’s influence, but something told him Jed was naturally this cheeky and amusing when allowed to blossom so brightly with love and care.

“I would very much like to get to know you, too, Jed,” Dream told the boy, standing once more. “Believe it or not, I have not had Ice Cream in over a hundred years and your sister recommended we get to try some.”

“YES!” Jed cheered, already grabbing Dream’s hand in one of his, and using his other to grab Rose. “Can we go to that place two blocks over? Please, Rose?”

“That’s the plan, Jeddy,” Rose gave him a grin, once more trying to hide her amusement at Dream’s stunned expression as he was dragged along by a twelve year old. “He hasn’t had ice cream in over a hundred years, so he has to have the best, right?”

“Exactly,” Jed agreed, turning his beaming face back to Morpheus. “You’re going to love it.”

And then Jed was babbling about anything and everything. Ice cream. His dreams. His school. Living with his sister, Lyta, and Daniel. Dream listened to it all, soaking it all in as Jed refused to let go of his hand. The warmth of the touch was grounding. Even as they stood together in line for ice cream, Rose was forced to order for them as Jed continued to tell Dream anything and everything.

It wasn’t until they were sitting down on a bench in a nearby park that Jed finally stopped chattering, now eyeing Dream curiously.

“So, why are you and Rose hanging out?” Jed asked cautiously. “I mean, Lyta doesn’t know, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Rose nodded, digging her spoon into her sundae. “And we have to keep this a secret, okay, Jeddy? Lyta wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

Rose looked to Dream, who had just taken a lick of ice cream to avoid answering the initial question. It was clear from the frantic expression on Rose’s face that she expected him to explain this.

Dream swallowed what had to have been the best ice cream he’d ever had, and turned to face Jed as properly as he could.

“Your sister told you that while your Great Grandmother was ill that she had a baby,” Dream began slowly, making sure Jed was paying attention. “And that baby turned out to be your grandmother, who gave birth to your mother, who gave birth to you and Rose.”

“Yeah. I know that. What does that have to do with anything?”

“It takes… two people to conceive a child, Jed,” Dream looked to Rose, trying to gage how far into what mortals called “The Talk” he could delve into. “Two people being intimate.”

“I’ll explain that when you’re fifteen,” Rose immediately cut of Jed’s question. “Promise.”

Jed frowned, pouting a bit, but turned back to Dream.

“The second… person,” that felt weird, to call his siblings a person like a mere common mortal, “was my sibling. Desire. You’re great grandparents was my sibling and that, therefore, makes us related.”

“We’re… related?”

“Yeah, Jeddy,” Rose said softly, voice shaking with nerves. “He’s our Great Grand-Uncle.”

Silence, something Dream was fairly certain was uncharacteristic of the boy, especially considering everything Dream had seen from the boy’s dreams and his current time spent with him. The Jed suddenly tipped forward, ice cream forgotten as it dropped to the ground, and his arms wrapped around Dream in a vice like he never wanted to let go.

He was crying.

“I am sorry, Jed. I did not mean to upset you.”

“Are you going to leave?”

Dream paused, mind racing. Had the boy just predicted-?

No. The boy was clever, but not that clever. Dream had to remind himself that Jed Walker had lost his entire family for a time, then had suffered greatly because of it. Even the boy’s nightmares spoke volume of his fear of being alone again.

“I cannot stay with you in the waking world, Jed,” Dream told the boy gently, awkwardly trying to wrap his arms around the boy in a hug. “But I will be near if you truly need me. All you or your sister need do is call for me, and if I am able, I will come as soon as I can?”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Jed. I will try,” he let the boy pull back, motioned Rose to be in his line of sight beside Jed. “But I do mean for emergencies. I cannot always drop what I am doing for simple matters. I am called Dream for a reason and that means I must keep an eye over my realm at all times.”

“Only for emergencies,” Jed nodded in agreement, swiping at Dream’s ice cream. He let the boy do so, having unintentionally been the cause of the boy’s own ice cream meeting a sad fate. “Thank you, Uncle Dream.”

“I’ll promise, too,” Rose said, drawing his attention to her. “I can agree to only calling you in emergencies, but… can you promise me something?”

Dream frowned, inclining his head to let Rose know he would hear her out, at least.

Sucking in a sharp breath; “Will you promise me that if it ever gets to be too much, if anything… happens… you’ll come to us.”

Oh, Rose Walker. A clever girl. She had adapted to controlling the dreaming so quickly, had found a way to locate her brother with simply words, had fought against the nightmares and the Corinthian. How brilliant she was, to corner him like this. 

“Yes, Rose, I can promise,” Dream said, both understanding the heaviness of it. “I will come to you. I swear it.”

Rose gave him a small, hopeful smile, as if the knowledge of when his fate would take over would somehow save him. As if she could save him. Dream was not so naive, though he would never say as such to Rose. 

Who was he to steal her hope?

—----------------------------------

It was cold. Dark. Familiar. The cot beneath him was rough, scratchy like the only blanket given to him. The smell of dust and dirt and sick filled the air in yet another familiar sense. 

Gault wasn’t here this time. 

“Hello!” he called into the darkness. “Gault! Rose!? Please!”

No answer. Jed never got one from the people he actually wanted to get an answer from. Instead, he found himself answered by that of squeaks. Jed pushed himself to his feet, hoping he maybe had a chance to run away, make it to the door at the stairs. Then he could maybe escape. But…

There were too many rats, all squeak, ready to pounce.

And pounce they did. Jed screamed. Covered his face, tried to make himself small.

“Oh dear,” a deep, friendly, British voice spoke quite suddenly. “Are you alright young man?”

Jed Walker slowly lowered his arms, finding he was no longer trapped in a stuffy basement room, threatened by rats meant to eat him. Instead, he was surrounded by beautiful lush greenery, with Daniel staring at him.

“Daniel?” Jed questioned the baby. “Did you… talk?”

“Well, babies can speak, my dear boy, but they have their own way of speaking up until they learn the language of those who raised them,” the british voice spoke again, decidedly not from Daniel. “Young Daniel Hall simply brought you to me. I dare say you appeared to be having a rather terrifying nightmare, I’m afraid.”

Jed wasn’t sure how he knew, but something deep inside him told him it was the beauty around him that was speaking to him.

“And… where are we?” Jed found himself asking the green. “Or, should I ask… who are you?”

“Oh, my name is Fiddler’s Green,” the green spoke to him with a fond little chuckle. “But your sister would know me better as Gilbert.”

“You’re Gilbert!” Jed felt joyous relief wash over him as he pushed to his feet. “Thank you for helping my sister!”

“Why, you’re very welcome,” Gilbert, who was actually Fiddler’s Green, gave a happy laugh that made the warmth of the greenery around them seem to grow. “Now then, I do believe Lord Morpheus will be here quite soon.”

“Lord Morpheus?”

“Hello, Jed.”

Jed knew that voice. Just like he knew Daniel. Spinning around, Jed found himself faced with a familiar pale figure clad in black, and his own face split into a grin as he launched forward into the awkward embrace of someone familiar and good.

“Uncle Dream!” 

Dream tugged him a bit closer in that awkward hug of his, allowing Jed to bury his face in Dream’s chest. Behind Dream, Daniel was making noises that ranged from distressed to excited to curious. Jed didn’t speak, not yet, allowing Dream to listen to Daniel. At least, he assumed Dream was listening to Daniel. Because obviously a being as powerful as his Uncle Dream could understand baby, right? Like in that one time traveling show Rose liked so much.

“A nightmare, Jed?” Dream asked him softly.

“I was in the basement… with the rats…”

“I see…” Dream breathed, pulling back to look Jed in the eyes. “Do you dream of this often?”

Jed lowered his head, nodding. “The rats used to bite me all the time. I got sick, sometimes, and I’d be trapped down there for hours. It was cold and dark.”

“Cold and dark…” the words seemed to shutter out of Dream, and something pained crossed his face, causing an expression that made Dream look like he was heartbroken, or something like that. Jed felt as though Rose would call the expression heartbroken, and she was very good with words. “I see. Tell me, Jed, do you know why nightmares exist?”

Jed shook his head. 

“They exist, not necessarily to scare us, but so that we may overcome that which we are scared of,” Dream explained gently, taking a moment for Jed to process, for his little face to scrunch up as his scared little eyes locked with Dream’s. “My realm is a place where mortals come to escape that of the waking world, to find relief, but sometimes, in order to continue on in life, we must face our fears, and my dreams provide that for them. For you, it is your nightmares of the basement.”

“How do I… get over them?”

“It isn’t so much getting over them, Jed,” Dream shook his head. “I am sad to say, sometimes those moments never truly leave us, but they do not need to dictate how you live your waking life, Jed. For some, conquering the dream helps. For others, it is a matter of accepting that part of their life and allowing themselves to move on.”

“How do I get over it?” Jed asked.

Dream sank to his knees, getting on Jed’s level. “I wish I knew, Jed. But I’m afraid I don’t have that answer. It is something only you can find for yourself. But, I will watch over you when I can, if you would like. I cannot keep stopping your nightmare, for you must be the one to overcome it, but should your dream truly become a danger to you, I will help you.”

“Really? You promise?”

“I promise, Jed,” Dream said. “But I have faith that you will overcome this nightmare on your own.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

Dream went silent for a moment, as if he was battling anger. No, not anger. Jed had seen anger, had grown up with it. This was pain, agony, as Rose would call it with her fancy words in her fancy stories.

“Yes, Jed, I do,” Dream confessed, his voice seemingly heavier, almost lost. “My nightmares, I fear, aren’t too different from your own. I, too, was trapped in the cold and the dark, once. Not long ago.”

“Did someone come to save you, too?”

“Yes,” Dream whispered the words he dared not to speak. He hadn’t even been able to tell Rose, had simply had his sand form his memories before her in explanation. It felt… different, to speak them allowed. Whether good or bad, Dream didn’t know. “But I fear that unlike with your sister, the one who came to help me was not so lucky. I eventually managed to escape on my own.”

Jed was hugging him again, Dream allowing himself to hug back. Just the two of them in Fiddler’s Green as Daniel played with the grass. Warmth between them in the embrace helped to chase away the nightmares they both carried, of the painful nightmares they struggled with.

“Maybe we can get over our nightmares together, Uncle Dream,” Jed whispered to him.

Dream sucked in a breath, once more tugging the boy closer. “I think I would like that, Jed.”

—----------------------------

“He had a bad day, you say?” Dream hummed as he carried Daniel on his hip towards the palace.

Daniel cooed his sad confirmation.

With a sigh, Dream brought them into the throne room, setting Daniel on the throne. Matthew hovered nearby, watching the exchange.

“As much as it pains me, Daniel Hall, you cannot continue to pull Jed from his nightmares whenever they scare him,” Dream told the young boy. “One day you will understand the reason for this, but for now, Jed must be allowed to learn to overcome his own nightmares.”

Daniel huffed in that way babies did, but did not argue with Dream. 

“Now then, as much as I know you adore my land, your mother would throw a fit if she knew you spent any time in my presence. So, what would you like this time, Daniel Hall?”

So Dream began to once more craft a dream for Daniel Hall to enjoy, hoping this one would keep the boy’s attention, but knowing his fate would make him incapable of staying away for too long. Still, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, Dream would do his best to respect Lyta Hall’s wishes.

“Matthew,” he turned to his Raven, who had been watching the exchange since Dream sensed Daniel Hall draw Jed Walker from his nightmare. “What do mortal children like?”

“You realize I never had kids, right?” Matthew quipped back. “I am the worst person to ask right now.”

“Then go fetch me Lucienne,” Dream sighed, far beyond exhausted by this. “Or someone who does know.”

He swore he could hear Matthew laughing as he flew to find the much needed help. 

Daniel was laughing at him, too. The rude child he was.

—-------------------------

Rose and Dream sat in a park, feeding the birds. It was a hobby Dream had apparently picked up after his captivity. As it happened, Rose and Jed had a fight, and Rose had been wandering around town to cool off when she stumbled upon Dream feeding the birds.

“Bread isn’t exactly the best thing to feed birds, you know,” Rose said, getting a simple hum from Dream. Rose sighed, running a hand down her face as she tried to squash her anger from the earlier conversation. Dream didn’t deserve that. “Bad day for you, too?”

Again, just a hum.

The rage in Rose threatened to boil over, but she knew that Dream didn’t deserve that. No matter how much Lyta prattled on about it. Instead, Rose shut her eyes and stole a chunk of the bread Dream was holding, much to his startlement. Then she, too, was feeding the birds.

“I thought bread was bad for them?” Dream said, whispered, voice soft and confused in that way that meant he truly didn’t understand.

“Yes, well, I’m a bit angry right now, so I guess I don’t really care,” Rose grumbled, tossing a far too large chunk of bread at the birds.

“Why are you angry?”

Rose huffed. “Jed and I had a fight.”

“Oh, I see.” 

And something about the way he said it… Rose knew that Dream clearly saw something but she would bet her kidney that whatever conclusion he came to was absolutely not the one he should have drawn from those simple words. Asking him straight out was pointless, she knew, so perhaps she could investigate a bit. Ask some… thought provoking questions.

“Do you ever fight with your siblings?” Rose found herself asking.

“Yes.”

“And how do you make up with them?”

“Make… up with them?”

“Yeah? How do you forgive each other?”

Dream was staring at her, now, blinking owlishly. As if the concept of forgiving one’s siblings was so foreign to him that they might as well be speaking two different languages that came from two different universes.

Figures. All those books about immortals holding grudges…

“So you just… tick each other off and then just stew on it for the rest of your lives?” Rose probed rather bluntly.

Dream looked away, still somewhat bothered by the question, but a frown was slowly taking over his features, maring his face in his clear confusion at this bizarre scenario she had cooked up. “We do not just… harmlessly tease each other, Rose.”

“Mortals don’t always harmlessly tease each other, either,” Rose pointed out. “Jed and I just had a fight about me going back to college and him going to school with a bunch of kids who are bullying him. We said some nasty things to each other, we shoved each other, too. Not hard, but still harsh. I’m going to stew in my anger and then I’m going to go home and give him a hug and apologize because I don’t want to live the rest of my life being angry at him.”

Dream blinked, clearly still bothered by this.

“My siblings and I-” Dream stopped himself, slowly moving to sit up as he tried to think of how to word whatever he was going to say next. “What happened to you never should have occurred, Rose. You should never have been the Vortex, should never have lived with that burden. Had Desire not interfered in what was mine-”

“I wouldn’t exist,” Rose stated bluntly, giving Dream a nudge. “Neither would Jed. You’d never have found your nightmares, and you’d be a lonely, miserable Dream King still living in your glass nightmare.”

Dream whipped his head to her.

“Listen, Desire is your younger sibling, right?”

“Yes.”

“And I take it your younger siblings really like to test you?”

“All the time,” Dream gritted his teeth, looking away from Rose and throwing a large chunk of bread at the birds, causing them to scatter momentarily.

“Did you ever think that, maybe, just maybe, they’re doing it for your attention?”

“My attention ?” Dream scoffed, an amused grin falling on his face, disbelieving. “Rose, my younger siblings simply love to torment me.”

“Yeah, but all little siblings do that. I mean… I know the real reason Jed doesn’t want me to go college is because he thinks I’ll have less time for him. He’s scared to lose me, just as I’m scared to lose him. So he threw a fit and we got angry at each other and we fought. Said nasty things. He’s not trying to be cruel, but sometimes… sometimes siblings just do that. Get on your nerves. Test your boundaries. Doesn’t mean they’re out to get you, it just means they want your attention. Maybe… maybe they want your attention, Uncle Dream. They want your acknowledgement.”

Dream still didn’t look like he believed her, if that scoff was anything to go by, but his frown, the way he was picking at the bread so it crumbled at their feet, causing the birds to scoot forward to grab the pieces, was sign enough that he had listened and was considering.

“We are immortal, Rose. We are Endless. What need would they have for my attention?”

“Well, Desire is literally called Desire , why wouldn’t they desire your attention? When was the last time you gave them your attention? Other than to, you know, scold them or get angry at them?”

Dream hummed, not giving an answer. Rose had a sense that it wasn’t a good sort of attention that Dream gave to his younger sibling.

“I’d like to meet them, you know,” Rose said, knowing that Dream would hate what she was about to ask. “They are my Great Grandparent.”

“Rose-”

“Please, Uncle Dream,” Rose begged earnestly. “You and Desire and your siblings are all we have left. I want to get to know them like I’m getting to know you. Please?”

She knew Dream was caving. Could see it. Dream knew how much family, any family, meant to Rose and Jed. He’d been putting it off for so long.

“If I see them again, I will… offer an invitation,” Dream promised hesitantly. Regretfully.

“ When ?”

“When I see them,” Dream amended. 

“Thanks Uncle Dream! Just… make sure they come when Lyta is gone, okay? I’m not sure how she’d feel knowing your siblings showed up.”

“I will be sure to tell them,” sighing so heavily, the Dreaming itself seemed to suddenly be supporting the weight of Dreams self-hatred and despair at what Rose had talked him into. “But only when I see them.”

Chapter Text

In all honesty, Dream could care less about this meeting. Yes, it was fair to say that these meeting were rare, and having two in less than a mortal year was quite the surprise, but Dream’s mind was elsewhere. 

Because, of course, Daniel had decided he wasn’t content with his newest dream anymore and had wandered himself into the dreaming. He had sent Matthew to do damage control, unable to meet the baby himself. Daniel, thankfully, had found his way to Cain and Abel where he was being told stories till it was time for him to wake.

Dream let out a sigh of relief. Despite the odd ways of the brothers, his supposed heir would be safe with them for now.

“Our brother dearest has a new interest, don’t you, dear, sweet, Dream.”

Dream let his mind drift back to the conversation at hand, allowing his tired gaze to land on Desire, who was giving him an amused, somewhat wicked, somewhat peeved, grin. Desire could have meant any number of things, truly, but Dream had a feeling he knew what they meant in this particular instance.

“If by interest you mean I have decided to meet my family, then yes, dear sibling, I have chosen to take Rose and Jed Walker under my care to the best of my ability.”

“Have you now?” Desire said testily, smugly, and… confused, perhaps?

“Do we have family? I think family is fun. I saw a family trip down a hill together. They tumbled quite far. It was sad. But they were together, so not that sad. There were sad crabs yesterday, too. Very sad. And the beach was quite fun!”

Dream looked to his little sister, trying to force the sudden image of Rose and Jed tumbling down a hill from his mind. He knew she did not mean to haunt him with the image, but his mind kept flashing to the horrors of the mere thought, and he would be going to them as soon as he was able, whether in dreams or the waking didn’t matter.

“And what interest do you have in them, brother?” It was Despair who asked, her hook already digging into her face. “They have suffered, much.”

“Yes,” Dream agreed, looking to his sister. “I can imagine they have spent much time in your realm,my sister.”

“A very long time. Though not nearly so as of late. You’re doing, brother?”

“No,” Dream said. “Though my presence in their lives may help, Rose and Jed Walker have each other, and for them, that is enough.”

“So you don’t have any sort of manipulative influence in their lives,” Desire cooed, mocking him their tone. “How curious.”

Dream had to suck in a breath, grounding himself. If it were up to him, Desire would go nowhere near the two. They would keep their distance from Rose and Jed. However…

“They wish to meet you, my dear sibling.”

The room got deathly quiet, something that never happened at these meetings.

“I beg your pardon?” Desire seemed unsure whether to stutter or seethe.

“Rose and Jed Walker wish to meet you, my dear sibling,” Dream restated the words he hated to say. “They have asked several times, in fact. They wish to meet all of you.”

“All of us?” Despair whispered.

“We are their only living family,” Dream said, keeping his voice soft as he tried to cool his raging emotions at letting his family anywhere near his… family… “Mortals have bonds stronger than ours, my dear siblings. Different than ours. Rose and Jed Walker wish to know their family, and they have asked that I extend the invitation to each of you. However, their only request, should you choose to visit, be that you visit when Lyta Hall and her son Daniel are not in their presence.”

There. Invitation extended. Whether or not his siblings chose to accept was not his problem. He’d be watching the two like a hawk from now on, but the invitation was extended as requested. He’d let them know, the next time he saw them, that he had fulfilled his task, however begrudgingly he had done so. For now, however, he simply needed to stew in the fact he had actually delivered the invitation at all. He had hoped it would be at least a few milenia before he had to see most of his siblings again, but this stupid meeting had forced him to fullfill his end of the bargain far sooner than he would have liked.

The Fates were laughing at his suffering, he was sure.

“Thank you for the offer, Dream,” Death beamed at him, clearly proud that he was willing to share. “We’ll be glad to try and visit some time. I’m sure you’re eager to meet them, Desire.”

“Yes. Quite.”

Dream tried not to think of that response as a threat. Rose had recommended he be civil with his siblings, so he was going to try for her sake. 

“Can I meet them, Dreamy?” Delirium asked, having silently gotten out of her chair, now leaning against his arm. “Can I go see our family?”

“Of course, little sister,” Dream said, trying not to think of what disaster could come from this meeting. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

“Yes, please” Delirium beamed brightly. “And we can go get ice cream. And watch the cars. Cars are funny things, you know. They’d be funnier if they sprouted wings and flew around.”

What strange things his sister came up with, Dream concluded to himself. Dreams and Delirium weren’t too far off from each other, now were they? 

“Is that a smile, brother?”

Dream turned his attention from Delirium to Despair, who was watching the two siblings as her hook now dug into her arm. Slowly. Painfully. Showing her intrigue as she distractedly drew her hook in a not so straight line. She watched Dream and Delirium react to each other, or how Dream was choosing to react to Delirium. 

Dream reached up, touching his face with the arm his baby sister was not clinging to, as if he could somehow find and feel the smile there. After a moment, he chose to move the hand to tangle in his baby sister’s wild hair.

“I suppose it is, dear sister,” he continued to hold Despair’s gaze. “I find myself doing that more often.”

“I think it’s a nice change,” Death told him kindly, sharing his smile. “Perhaps one we could see more often?”

“Perhaps,” Dream hummed, twisting his sister’s hair as she giggled, playing with the fish she was having swim around their heads.

Death’s grin only grew, taking it as the invitation it was. Delirium had crawled into Dream’s lap, trying to better grasp the fish that were changing into butterflies, and Dream carefully wrapped his arms around her in the way Rose and Jed had been trying to teach him. 

Destiny had been quiet, observing, though that was not unusual of him. Despair, likewise, had been mostly quiet and observing, though the observing part was rare for her. Desire… was frowning, not quite glaring, but frowning. Dream had to squash the thoughts that Desire might be using the moment of silence to begin plotting. 

“Sometimes siblings just do that,” Rose had told him. “Get on your nerves. Test your boundaries. Doesn’t mean they’re out to get you, it just means they want your attention. Maybe… maybe they want your attention, Uncle Dream. They want your acknowledgement.”

Delirium was hugging him now. His face, because that was where she was standing, but she was hugging him, humming some song with no tune that would make even less sense should it have words. Rather than shove her away, he chose to let himself curl further around her. 

Perhaps… Rose was right. How funny mortals were, that they could come to these conclusions that eternal beings could not.

“Shall we go, Delirium?” Dream asked her softly as she untangled herself from his face.

“Yes,” his baby sister said, hopping off his lap and grabbing his hand. “Come come. Time to go! Where are we going?”

“To visit our great grand-niece and nephew,” Dream told her patiently.

“Right!”

Dream let himself be tugged along, occasionally redirecting his baby sister back to their path. They’d get there eventually, he was sure, but for now, he would let his sister follow her deliriums on whatever path they took him. He needed to be patient, understanding, and willing to give his attention.

“On we go! On we go!”

He could certainly try, he supposed. He knew he wasn’t good at any of those things, but he could try. And, after a bit of fish chasing, and thought following, they two found themselves, at long last, at the Walker’s doorstep. 

Thankfully, Daniel had since awoken and Matthew was watching mother and son as they traversed the different grocery stores.

“Rose,” Dream greeted her with a kind smile. “I would like you to meet one of your great grand-aunts. My baby sister, Delirium.”

“Hello! We went through the misty things, and… and the family says hello, except the prodigal. He’s… he’s gone. But I saw crabs. Sad crabs on the beach. But the beach was fun.”

Rose smiled at Delirium. “It's nice to meet you Great Grand-Auntie Delirium. Would you both like to come in?”

And didn’t that just make Delirium’s entire day. Dream could tell. There was an extra… spring to her delusions. And she was careful, so very careful not to drive the two Walker siblings mad. And when it came time for them to go, for Lyta was coming home, Dream and Delirium bid the Walkers goodbye with promises to visit. 

And then, in the safety of the dreaming before the entrance to his throne room, Dream turned to his sister, knowing full well she wished to be many other places at once. Her realm was calling to her.

Dream bid Delirium goodbye.

“You know I love you, my sister?”

“I know, Dreamy. Even when you’re cranky and mean, I know you love me.”

Dream smiled at her, pulled her in for one of his awkward hugs, and watched his sister tumble from the dreaming in a way that would have been quite dangerous for any mortal. With his sister gone, Dream turned back to his castle. Where he once more found little Daniel not where he should have been.

If Lyta Hall ever found out about this…

“Come, Daniel, let us craft you a new dream,” he lifted the baby onto his hip and immediately turned his glare to the three dreams watching him. “Not a word. Any of you.”

“About which part, my lord?” Lucienne asked, her voice just a bit too amused to be innocent.

“Any of it,” Dream hissed before disappearing to create a new distraction for Daniel. “Good help is hard to come by, Daniel. You will have a time of it, I’m sure.”

Daniel burst into giggles and babbles.

Co-parenting with Lyta Hall, as Rose called it. Dreams’ own personal nightmare.

—-------------------------------------------

It was bound to happen, of course. Dream could not necessarily keep an eye on the waking world, and Matthew had been sent on a particular errand for him. Still, he had foolishly decided to risk it and visit Rose and Jed anyways once he was sure Lyta Hall had not been home. 

They were enjoying a cartoon that Jed enjoyed, one on superhero teenagers called Titans, when Lyta came back to the apartment early and decided to let herself in. 

“You!”

Rose rushed into the room from her office space, eyes widening as she noted Lyta grabbing for a kitchen knife, Jed, horrified but so very brave, had thrown himself between Dream and Lyta, standing on the couch.

Dream had opted that the best way to deal with this entire thing was simply to remove himself from the equation, or, well, the house.

So he vanished into a puff of sand.

“My Lord?” Lucienne gaped, standing up quickly as her master suddenly appeared in the library, leaning heavily against the table. “Are you alright, My Lord?”

Dream yanked out a chair and sank into it, purposefully not answering the question. 

Lyta Hall was bound to hover over the Walker children like a hawk from now on, and that meant Dream would be unable to visit them in the waking. And with a fury such as her’s, Dream feared what visiting them in the Dreaming might do, as well. He would need to tread carefully, keep his distance from now on. 

He could already feel the ache this would bring gnawing at his chest. He’d never left the Walker siblings alone for very long, both from their need to have him close, and his need to… to…

To…

To feel their love…

To love them in return…

He had to…

No. Oh no. What had he done !?

Shoving back to his feet, once more startling Lucienne, Dream flew from the library and towards his throne room where he shut every door and locked it, preventing anyone from entering. 

He needed to think and he could not be disturbed.

What had he done?

—-----------------------------------

Rose Walker was absolutely miserable. It had been eight weeks, six days, and thirteen hours since Lyta had walked into her apartment unannounced, earlier than usual, and had caught Dream sitting on her sofa with Jed.Lyta had basically been hovering over them for ages. Dream hadn’t had an opportunity to come by in the waking, and neither she nor Jed had seen their Great Grand-Uncle in the dreaming, either. Jed was miserable. She was miserable.

And just three hours ago, Rose had finally lost it at Lyta, and told the woman to leave them alone, she wasn’t their mother and she couldn’t dictate what family had the right to visit just because Lyta refused to listen to reason.

So, yes, right now, Rose wanted to sit around and mope and pretend like if she fell asleep, Uncle Dream would be there to greet her, even if she knew that wouldn’t happen.

A knock on the door. Instant. Demanding. Happening every five seconds.

Jed was at school, would be for the next few hours, and the school would call her if it got truly bad, which basically left Lyta. Everyone else would at least let her know they were coming.

Shoving to her feet, Rose marched to the door, her anger once more rising. She threw open the door, ready to continue her furious rant from earlier.

“I told you, Lyta! If you would just-!” Rose’s eyes went wide as they locked on those of pure gold, a growing grin on the face that was oh so alluring. “Golden eyed man.”

“My pronouns are they/them, darling,” the being cooed, leaning against the door.

“Oh! Right! Sorry. It’s just… Unity called you her golden eyed man. But Dream did tell me you prefer they/them pronouns. Sorry about that. You’re Desire.”

“Smart girl,” Desire hummed. “May I come in?”

Rose could only nod, moving aside to allow her Great Grand-parent into the house. Dream had told her that Desire was rather alluring, tempting, meant to want everything and anything, and doing anything to get it. This person before her seemed so… fitting to the word. To the realm.

“So tell me, Rosie, why is it you have summoned me here?”

Rose blinked, instantly drawn out of whatever part of Desire that allured her to them.

“I… didn’t?” Rose said.

“Didn’t you?” Desire pressed, a grin spreading on their face. “Well, you had me fooled, what with how you lashed out at Lyta Hall. How strongly you crave my dearest, sweetest brother. How strongly you desire to see him again. It was practically screaming.”

Rose looked away from Desire, had to force her gaze away, but only just. The words were said as a blatant truth and a horrible accusation, and Rose was reminded that Dream and Desire hardly got along.

“I just… want to know he’s okay,” Rose admitted, unable to keep the words to herself any longer. “I mean… Daniel is still here. Which means he’s not… he’s not gone . But he promised me that he would let me know when that was going to happen, and I haven’t seen him in eight weeks, and six months, and thirteen hours, so maybe some new group of occultists managed to capture him again. Or maybe he’s in danger and is on his death bed and can’t come see me. Or maybe-”

“Hush, love,” Desire was suddenly across the room, dangerously close, cupping Rose’s face so gingerly. “If anything were to happen to Dream, if we had any reason to suspect something was wrong, I have no doubt one of his dreams would come to tell you. Probably that little Raven of his. If he was dying, our sister, herself, would come to tell you. Whatever is keeping my fool of a brother away, I have every reason to suspect it is his own stupidity.”

Rose sniffed as Desire dropped her chin, reaching up to scrub at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Can you talk to him?”

Desire barked out a laugh, different from Dream’s, but yet so similar.

Amused disbelief.

“Darling, I don’t know if he’s told you or not, but I am the last person my dear brother would ever want to get a talking from. We clash, him and I.”

It was Rose’s turn to laugh, albeit wetly. “I know. He did tell me. I can sort of see why.”

“Can you?” amused, very, very amused. Like talking down to a child who truly didn’t understand.

“You clash,” Rose shrugged, trying very hard not to look into Desire’s eyes with how close they were. “Like you said. He’s pessimistic, grumpy, shuts off his emotions till they boil over and lash out. You’re expressive, somewhat optimistic, energetic. I bet you both have a bad habit of getting on each other’s nerves and lashing out at the other.”

“Oh, you do understand,” Desire sounded somewhat impressed. “My, my, truly clever, you are, Rosie. I’m quite proud to call you my great grand-daughter, I must admit. And here I was afraid my dear older brother had sunk his claws into you. I suppose it’s the other way around. Maybe there is hope for him, yet.”

“So you’ll talk to him?”

Desire’s entire face seemed to short circuit for nearly a minute.

“Oh, that was good,” Desire mischievously purred. “Yes, I’ll talk to my stupid older brother. I can’t guarantee anything will come of it but us biting each other’s heads off, but I’ll talk to him. I’ll come back some other time, to meet Jeddy, of course. But off I go.”

And with that, Desire left the apartment, leaving Rose to sink to her knees from the intensity of the entire situation. It would be another hour before she would be able to move, but that was to be suspected when one was met with even a fraction of Desire’s presence. And Desire certainly held back their power this time around.

Desire, meanwhile, was back in their chamber, holding the sigil of their brother’s helm between their hands in a delicate fashion.

“Dream, my brother, I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil. Won’t you talk to me, sweet Dream?”

“Desire, my sibling,” his response was immediate, much to their surprise. “I assume you wish to come through?”

“That would be preferable for this conversation,” Desire agreed with a sickly sweet hum. “Here I come, big brother.”

Pushing forward through the sigil, Desire found themselves in the Dreaming, almost instantly in the Throne room. Of course, as Desire suspected, their older brother was slouched over his throne, moping. The only thing giving him any sense of life was the fact that baby Daniel was in his lap, babbling and yapping in that language babies had.

Desire took a moment to listen to baby Daniel Hall as the baby wiggled himself wildly in Dream’s laps, words falling flat to Dream’s ears. 

“You should listen, big brother,” Desire hummed as they sauntered across the room. “He makes good points for a baby.”

“BAH!”

Daniel shrieked causing both Endless to wince. Clearly Daniel was beyond frustrated at the situation, and Desire had obviously just proven the baby’s point. Desire chuckled, chosing to lean up against their brother’s throne.

“So, sweet Dream, what, pray tell, has you so desperate to avoid our dear Rose Walker?”

“You’ve visited her?”

“Oh, yes,” Desire cooed, somewhat mockingly, trying to get a rile out of Dream, or anything, really. “We had a lovely little chat, the two of us. I must admit, I was quite surprised to see how similar we were, my great grand-daughter and I.”

Dream didn’t even react.

“Don’t worry, big brother, I promise I waited till Lyta Hall wasn’t hovering,” Desire shoved off the throne, pacing around the pedestal the throne sat on. “Sweet Rose lashed out at the bane of your existence earlier that day and I let Rose Walker stew a bit before I popped by.”

Nothing.

Desire stopped in front of Dream, crossing their arms and glaring down at Dream.

“If you’re worried I touched her, then don’t be, sweet Dream. We simply had a chat.”

Still. Nothing.

Huffing, Desire quickly grabbed baby Daniel from Dream and set the baby on the ground. Dream barely had time to react before Desire was suddenly in his lap, pinning him to the throne, and forcing his chin up so they were locking eyes.

“Tell me, big brother, what ails you so,” Desire demanded. “I do so Desire to know.”

Dream sucked in a breath, body trembling as he tried to resist Desire’s gift. But no one, not even Destiny, could resist this.

“I have…” Dream sucked in a breath, trying so desperately hard, but even he began to sag. “I have… condemned… them…, my sibling.”

Desire blinked. Blinked again. 

“What?”

Desire hissed the word, so thoroughly stumped by all of this. 

“What are you talking about?”

Dream had slumped against his throne, chin still trapped by Desire’s delicate hand, but the rest of him was slumped so thoroughly against the throne, trapped under Desire. He looked so utterly defeated. It was almost like watching the moments where Dream got his heart broken, leaving him broken and sad and mopey in a way that affected the entire dreaming. 

Desire could still see the moment his lover, Killalla had broken his heart. It had been oh so intriguing to see their brother close off for the first time. To watch his heart break and his emotions shut down. It was still fun to mess with Dream’s love life on occasion. Alianora had been quite fun for a time, too. Most of the time, however, Dream fell into his own idiocy with his lovers. 

This was not that. With this, Dream was still very expressive. So very tired.

It was so startling to see, especially since Desire knew Dream had no current lover.

“My rules are there for a reason,” Dream said, no longer resisting. “The rules we have are there for a reason. I have ignored them in the past, and for that, I have condemned many. Despite the consequences, I ignored the rules set to protect those we serve. But for the first time I dread the consequences of my actions.”

“Broken the…” Desire was even more confused than when this first started. “What rule of ours could you have possibly broken? You’ve been so strict about the rules since you got back!”

Dream sucked in a breath, tears forming in his eyes , his mouth parting in explanation.

“I let myself love them, Desire. I love Rose and Jed Walker. And for that, I have condemned them. They are mortal, my sibling, and I love them.”

Alright. Here’s the thing. Desire has known for a looooooonngggg time that their big brother was an idiot. Like, truly, this was a fundamental truth that was well known throughout the siblings that their sweet Dream was the biggest idiot of all of them. 

But this…

This took the cake, as the mortal would say.

“Sweet Dream, I am going to say something you absolutely refuse to acknowledge,” Desire cooed, getting close to their brother’s face. “You are an idiot.”

“You mock me as I suffer-!?”

“Pointlessly,” Desire scoffed. “My dear brother, Lord of Dreams, King of Nightmares, Sandman of the Mortal realm, you. Are. An. Idiot.”

“Desire-”

“I love you Dream,” Desire said the words the Endless never spoke to each other. “Truly. Dearly. You get on my nerves more often than I can count, and you’re a stupid, pessamistic, kill joy. Perhaps we threaten to kill each other more than either of us would like, but I do not truly hate you, Dream. I love you, my sweet Dream. You are my brother.”

Dream swallowed as Desire finally released his chin, not breaking eye contact. His choice, this time. Desire needed it to be his choice.

“I love you, too, my sibling,” Dream confessed, and something in Desire swelled,a  desire of their own being soothed with those simple, earnest words. “Truly. I love you dearly, Desire. But I feared you did not feel the same way.”

“Dream, my sweet, we’re polar opposites, as Rose Walker put it,” Desire rolled their eyes. “We clash. It’s our ‘love language’ of course. Sometimes I truly do Desire your attention and the only way I get it is if I mess with you. Though sometimes I do it because Despair wishes to seek you, too.”

“You could have asked,” Dream hummed, though even he said it half-heartedly, clearly not believing himself.

“Where is the fun in that?” Desire teased, playing with their brother’s hair. “Now, let me ask you, sweet Dream; if loving mortals has, in fact, condemned them to death, then pray tell why they have not suffered that condemnation yet?”

Dream blinked. Poor big brother had been on a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions today. Captivity truly had changed their brother as Despair predicted.

“Have I not condemned them already, my sibling? I nearly-”

“Killed Rose Walker? Yes sweet Dream, but someone else intervene, did they not? That was not due to our love, dear brother,” Desire shook their head, sinking down so they actually sat in Dream’s lap, taking his hands in their own. “I love them too, you know. They are mine, after all. I made them, myself. No, if you had condemned them, my brother, their punishment would have been like Nada’s.”

Dream sucked in a pained, agonized breath. Desire quickly realized this was not a good discussion to continue, Nada’s second parting still too soon and too fresh for Dream to handle.

“Sweet Dream, you know why we did not come for you, don’t you?”

“Because of my pride-”

“Partly,” Desire agreed, kissing their brother’s knuckles tenderly. “Such pride, sweet Dream. And all you had to do was ask. But dear, sweet, Dream, finding you was not easy. It took time, and though I found you eventually, even mortals can be unpredictable to me. Their Desire’s are… interesting, to say the least. I must say, though amatuers, it took one of those cult members going to a bar for me to reach into the house. The circle was done well. I don’t believe our sister even managed to to claim the lives in that house while the circle was intact. Even then, sweet Dream, I was still so angry at you after what happened to Despair…”

“Desire…”

Pressing their foreheads together. “You have not condemned Rose and Jed Walker, dear brother. You have given them a gift. The rule of us loving applies to romantic love rather than familia or platonic love. Do you not remember the language by which the rules were first written? English being one of the only languages with only one word for love. Come, sweet Dream. You will hurt them more by staying away than you ever will by being in their lives.”

“Truly?”

Whispered. Hesitant. Desperate. Longing. Full of such desire.

“Truly.”

—--------------------------------

Writer’s block sucked, and all the tension from the last seven weeks, three days, and five hours wasn’t helping. With a huff, Rose pushed off her desk and moved to get to a snack from the kitchen. It was just her, again. Lyta was avoiding her, and Jed was at school. So, naturally, a knock on the door startled her.

Moving to the door, Rose tried to mentally go through the list of people who might drop by, still coming up as empty as the time Desire dropped by. 

Her breath caught as she saw the person on the other side of the door.

“Hello, Rose,” he greeted, voice thick with guilt, “I-”

Rose punched him. 

Dream stumbled back, clearly surprised at the action, but slowly falling back into his guilt, obviously knowing he deserved the punch, He shrank into himself, once more opening his mouth to speak, but his words were once more cut him off as Rose flew forward and tackled him to the ground.

They lay there, on the dirty floor of the apartment building, Rose hugging Dream in a vice as Dream lay there, hands slowly and awkwardly trying to hug her but being so unsure of himself. 

“Uncle Dream?”

“Yes, Rose?”

“Is this real?”

“Yes, Rose.”

Rose gripped him tighter, burying her face in his chest.

“I thought something happened to you.”

“Only my own folly and idiocy,” Dream told her gently, tugging them both into a sitting position. “I am sorry, Rose, for not visiting. For not letting you know I was alright. I will tell you why. I promise, and you may be as angry as you like.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Rose whispered, voice cracking. “Please don’t do it again.”

Dream wished he could promise that more than anything, but he knew it was not his promise to give. No matter how much he wished it could be.

Chapter Text

They were in Fiddler’s Green, enjoying the lushness of the world, just them. Rose had convinced Dream to lay beside them in Gilbert’s vast expanse of greenery as they soaked in the false sun of the dreaming, basking in the presence of each other. Rose on his left, Jed on his right, both siblings curled around him as they did absolutely nothing for once. 

Just… basked .

“Oh,” Rose groaned as her vision fuzzed in and out. “I think I’m waking up.”

“Yes, it does appear so,” Dream said, voice a light hum as he leaned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you, Rose. This was quite enjoyable, and I do believe quite needed.”

Rose hummed, curling further into Dream’s chest, nestling there. “I miss seeing you in the waking.”

“I do not wish to cause you any more strife with Lyta Hall,” Dream told her, even as Jed voiced his agreement beside her. “Despite her… Fury… she does truly care for you, and it makes me happy to know you have someone like that in the waking.”

“Can’t you send Matthew to keep an eye on us?” Jed asked, “so we know you’re there.”

“I am always there,” Dream assured Jed. “Though I am afraid I cannot constantly spare Matthew that way. I do have need of him.”

“Yeah, you do,” Rose agreed. “He and Lucienne are the only ones who really tell you what you need to hear instead of what you want to hear.”

Dream made a sound of displeasure at the words, but made no move to deny them, either. A warm, fluttery gust of wind shot through the air, letting the trio know that Gilbert was, in fact, chuckling. 

Rose’s vision blurred again, though she fought.

“Wake, Rose,” Dream encouraged her with his own amused chuckle. “I will see you again soon.”

With a groan, Rose let herself wake up in her bed, in her apartment. She had forgotten to close her curtains all the way last night and the light was now stabbing her eyes. Obviously the cursed reason as to why she was awake and no longer with her brother or Great Grand-Uncle in the dreaming. 

Rolling over, Rose let herself think over her dream-time with Uncle Dream. From the moment she fell asleep…

She sucked in a breath and slowly pushed herself up, looking to where she had left her laptop on.

She hadn’t fallen asleep at her bed last night. She had been writing at her desk, trying to wrap up the last edits for her book.

Had she sent it!?

Throwing off the covers, Rose raced over to her laptop, desperately trying to remember what she had been doing last night. Had she sent them? The deadline was last night at midnight. 

What did she remember?

Matthew. Matthew was there to greet her in the dreaming, to take her to where Jed was waiting, talking with Gilbert cheerily. Then Dream had joined them shortly after, looking somewhat smug, and Rose had dragged him into sprawling on the ground because that grin almost never meant anything good…

Oh, that cheeky little…

Rose knew exactly what happened. Dream truly had been watching over her last night, because her manuscript, which she was pleased to see she had finished before she passed out, had been sent in at 11:59 last night. And judging by the last edit record on her computer, she had passed out at 11:23, having spent two straight days on that manuscript with nearly no breaks. Jed had been worried, she remembered, and he must have told Dream. Because last night, her Uncle had sent in her manuscript just in time and gotten her into bed.

“Thank you, Uncle Dream,” she whispered to the dreaming. “Thank you.”

Her editor had already done the editing, too. Mostly small spelling mistakes and a couple places she had forgotten a few words or phrases, but otherwise brilliant. Rose was beaming ear to ear as she sagged in relief.

She was starving, she realized. Having hardly eaten the food Jed had tried to give her. Burnt chicken tenders. Her poor little brother was probably as exhausted as she had been, and a glance into his room confirmed this fact as he slept on, clearly enjoying some alone time with Dream.

Rose moved to grab some breakfast, hoping to find something to eat. She made a quick breakfast of eggs, noting how the meal she made was one Lyta taught her. 

Lyta…

Dream held no ill will towards Lyta, nor did he wish her any harm. In fact, Dream had insisted several times that he wished she would manage to make up with Rose, to have someone watching over them in the waking. Rose had been against it at first. She had her friend Carl, of course. And Hal came by for visits on occasions. But…

They were civil, now. It was such a painful word to think about, but after catching Dream in their apartment, Rose had tried to explain, tried to speak the truth, to tell Lyta of Daniel and Dream, but she wouldn’t listen. Lyta was convinced that they were brainwashed, that Dream was going to turn them against her. Help him take Daniel. 

That was the last thing Rose wanted. Because if Daniel was taken by Dream, then that meant it was over. It would all be over. She would lose them both.

But Lyta wouldn’t listen.

Rose needed Lyta to listen.

But Lyta wouldn’t listen.

But… how?

Lyta needed to listen to words, but how could Rose get her to do that if she wouldn’t allow herself to hear the words.

Wait…

Listening without hearing? 

Now that was something Rose knew how to do.

Taking her hastily thrown together breakfast, Rose rushed to her room and began typing earnestly. 

She had a story to write.

—--------------------------------------

While not an extravagant poet, Rose had a beautiful gift of taking what she knew of the Dreaming and of her Uncle, and placing them into stories and books. As the girl continued to write and create, her relationship with Lord Morhpeus truly flowed beautifully into her books as time passed.

So when a new short story showed up in the library, written by Rose Walker, Lucienne was intrigued, quickly picking up the packet of paper to read over it. It wasn’t a bound novel, much to Lucienne’s surprise, and it didn’t appear to be one she intended to publish further, but perhaps it was a personal tale. Lucienne was almost hesitant to read it, but it wouldn’t be the first time Lucienne had read personal letters and things.

By the end of it, Lucienne truly wished she had not touched it.

For what Rose Walker had written was clearly meant as a letter to Lyta Hall, as Lucienne could tell by the introduction and the curious cast of characters. Not to mention, it was clearly in its final draft, though sloppily edited. But the horror it revealed was a secret that her Master had clearly been keeping close to his heart. 

He had hidden it well, but now that Lucienne knew what was happening and what to look for, she could see the signs so clearly. They were screamingly obvious, horrifically so. Lucienne wanted to slap herself for not having realized her master’s boone. 

Dream had once said that they had not cared and would not come for him. 

Lucienne knew that to be a bold-faced lie, and she was not about to allow this to happen again. Not after the first time. If her Master was to be such a fool, then she would do something foolish in return.

“Matthew!” Lucienne called earnestly, not daring to let the bird speak as he entered the library. “Take this to Death, and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone , do you understand me? Not even him. ”

“Woah, okay, Luce,” Matthew held up his wings in mock surrender, “whatever you say. Is something-?”

“ Now! ”

Matthew was gone, short-story taken with him. 

The Dreaming would not lose him again. Lucienne had to make sure of it. Somehow.

—-------------------------------------

“What are you reading?” they ask her as she guides them to the sunless lands.

“My great grand-niece wrote a story!” she tells the first twenty five excitedly, because she does have a job to do, after all. She can’t truly take a break to read it all in one go, and she must read it a sentence at a time as she moves on to each person who entered her domain. “Well, she’s written many stories, but I’ve hardly had the chance to read any of them. I’ve been told I absolutely must read this one, though, so I do hope you don’t mind if I’m a bit distracted.”

“It’s a puzzling tale,” she tells the next twenty eight who ask her, clearly very puzzled and a little bit distracted from her job. The words are painting a picture beautifully. Death is quite proud of Rose’s skill, and she hopes Dream is just as proud, but the tale the words paint are providing an image that has Death worrying her lip. “My great-grand niece wrote it for her friend. But it appears to be about my brother and her friend’s son. I’m not quite sure what it’s truly about. I suppose books are an odd mystery of their own, after all. Please excuse me for a moment. I do apologize.”

“It’s about my brother, actually,” she tells the next thirty seven, certainly very bothered, but taking breaks in between her reading, paper packet tucked under her arm as she tries to smile. She has a job to do, after all, no matter how worried or scared the words make her feel. She can’t just stop. She has to keep going. “A biography, I would say, about events that have yet to happen. My great-grand niece wrote it. She’s written many tales and stories. I should like to read them someday.”

“Its about an idiot. My idiot brother, to be precise,” she tells the last person, a subtle fury threatening to rise inside of her as she has finally finished the tale without a happy ending, sealing the fate in black ink. “My great-grand niece wrote it. I’m sorry, I usually try to be far kinder. Would you give me a moment. I have something I need to do.”

Before the person can speak, Death is gone, clutching the packet, ignoring all formality, and appearing in the realm she never has reason to visit.

“Sister?” Desire startles, clearly basking in their own presence, and, as Desire tends to be alone in their domain, having Death appear before you would scare anyone. “What brings you-?”

Death slammed the packet into Desire’s chest. “Read this. I have work to do. We’ll discuss it later.”

And then she goes back, smiling bright and sunny again, leading that last life she temporarily abandoned through to the sunless lands. She had a job to do, and Desire would come to find her once they had finished reading. 

—--------------------------

For a week now, Rose walked up the stairs to Lyta’s apartment and slid the newly edited story under the door. A tale foretold of the future, of the fate of Morpheus, King of Dreams, and Lord of Nightmares, predicted for himself by the circumstances of Daniel Hall’s birth. It told of Daniel’s fate, too. The inevitability of it all. 

In tales with Greek gods, the Fates would tell of the upcoming tragedy, and the heroes would attempt to prevent it, unable to accept the tragedy of their future. In the end, they would bring the fate to pass, and they would crumble and fall at the hands of great tragedy. Or, perhaps, to the hands of Despair. Maybe even Delirium.

But Dream of the Endless knew better. For in the end, trying to avoid one’s fate was futile, and the Dream King’s fate was sealed in the Book of Destiny, so it would seem. The minute Daniel Hall was conceived, Dream’s life was no longer in his own hands, and he would be forced to die, however the Fates may decree it. 

He would not fight. He would not run. He would live what time he had left, and then he would let his sister’s hand grasp his.

There was nothing Rose nor Lyta could do to save their families, just as Dream could not avoid his Fate.

Task done, Rose let out a sigh and stood up, brushing off her pants and moving to walk downstairs. She had to get Jed to school, after all. 

Behind her, the door opened.

“Rose?”

Rose paused, turned. Lyta Hall stood there, Daniel on her hip.

“I… I read it,” Lyta held up the packet. “All of it.”

Rose swallowed, searching Lyta’s face for any sign of her thoughts.

“And?”

“I don’t like it,” Lyta admitted, gaze drifting to the packet of paper, “but I know a thing or two about inevitability. Can we talk?”

“I have to get Jed to school,” Rose motioned down the stairs, “but I would really like to talk to you.”

A teary smile spread on Lyta’s face, one Rose knew she was reciprocating.

“I’ll come with you,” Lyta offered, “if you’ll have me. Have us?”

“I’d like that,” Rose agreed.

—---------------------------------

“You are disturbed, my twin,” Despair whispered to Desire. “Why?”

“This, my dearest twin,” Desire held the packet out to their sister. “I fear I have made a grave miscalculation.”

“Oh?”

“Our brother is truly an idiot, and he is going to do his most idiotic thing, yet.”

“That scares you?”

“This time?” Desire asked, moving to stand before Dream’s sigil. “Yes. It scares me. Pass this on to our baby sister if you see her. You have had more cause to see her recently than I.”

“Of course, my twin,” Desire agreed, looking down at the packet, face contorting. “Oh dear.”

“What? What is it?”

“I had hoped I was wrong, my beloved twin, but I fear I was right,” Despair said, hook digging extra hard into her hand, smearing blood on the edges. “I fear I should have spoken sooner. Dear Dream has dipped in and out of my realm several times, but he has avoided mirrors since his captivity when he can. I should have know-”

“You could not, my twin,” Desire scolded, pulling Despair to them with an affection only Desire could offer. “You know how proud he is. He would not have given an inch before now. If I had known throwing mortal family at him would make him cave so emotionally then I might have done it far sooner.”

Despair, however, was not entirely convinced. After all, she did not necessarily need mirrors to check on those in her realm, and Dream had dipped into her realm before. Still, Dream had often been haughtier than thou more often than not, and Despair had let her pettiness rule over her with Desire’s schemes. 

Now her brother had done one of the things many in her realm tended to do. He was just playing the long-con to get there.

—------------------------------

“I keep having to wash sand out of his bed,” Lyta said, brushing Daniel’s hair back. “I was so paranoid about it.”

“Uncle Dream says he doesn’t like to stay in one place,” Rose hummed, reaching out a finger for Daniel to grab. “You’re quite the little adventurer, aren’t you Daniel? Uncle Dream’s bain of existence.”

Daniel gave an amused, giggling laugh. Yanking Rose’s finger so he could clap his hands together and still hold on. He was clearly quite pleased with his acts of terror against Dream. 

“He makes Daniel new Dreams, trying to keep his entertainment, but he really does like to explore the dreaming,” Rose hummed, managing to take her finger back. “Most of the dreams know to take the utmost care of him, and those that are told not to do so are simply told to take him to someone who can.”

“And he… he truly doesn’t wish to take Daniel?” Lyta asked, unable to wrap her head properly around this shift in her insanity. 

Rose pursed her lips. “I think it would be better if you heard the truth from him.”

—--------------------------------

“Thank you, Lyta Hall, for agreeing to talk with me,” Dream greeted the woman, welcoming her into his throne room where she stood tensley, arms linked with Rose. “And I do apologize for what has happened, for the fear I caused you. It was not my intention for the words to be said as a thread. They came from the burst of my own realization, fears, and acceptance of the situation. I have no intention of taking Daniel from you. And I hope it is not necessary for a long, long time.”

“Just…” Lyta sucked in a breath as she sank into the chair in front of the table. “Start from the beginning. With Hector.”

“Of course,” Dream promised. 

Waving his hand over the sand, he let the story begin.

“Your husband, Hector Hall, when he passed, managed to hold onto life long enough for Rose to get to his side, to hold his hand. And in that moment, it was enough for some small sliver of the Dream Vortex within her to wake up. Subconsciously, your husband avoided my sister, Death, and latched onto the Dream Vortex within Rose, allowing him to create a space within the dreaming that existed nearly separately from all else. So, while you were asleep, he latched onto your dreams and created an unbalance, causing the Vortex to have some connection to the Dreaming stronger than any other. That, Rose, is why you could appear in the Dreaming as you pleased, because Hector Hall connected you to both the waking and the dreaming. As a result, he sped up the process of destruction once I was freed from my imprisonment, and he disrupted the balance between the two worlds.”

“So… why couldn’t Hector remain in the dreaming?” Rose inquired, asking one of the many set questions she and Dream had agreed upon. “I mean, you offered me a place when I died.”

“That, dear Rose, was because you were already in the dreaming when you died,” Dream told her, told Lyta, too. “Whenever someone dies in their sleep, they are given the option to remain within the dreaming. In a sense, they can become part of my domain, though few rarely stay in the dreaming. Many wish to reunite with their loved ones in the Sunless Lands. Part of it is because my sister is far kinder than I.”

Rose snorted, causing Dream’s lip to upturn slightly.

“I could not keep Hector Hall here, however,” Dream admitted, turning his gaze to Lyta. “Because Hector Hall did not die in the dreaming, he was not mine to claim. There are rules that even I must follow, and as such, Hector Hall was not mine to claim. And because of his attachment to the Vortex, he would have destroyed the entirety of the dreaming had I let him remain. I made the mistake of allowing the Vortex to survive much longer than I should have, and as a result, when I came to you and your husband, Daniel had already been conceived, and the Dreaming was falling apart.”

Lyta sucked in a breath, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“So… when you walked into our house… you were forced to act quickly or lose the entirety of the dreaming,” Lyta concluded what she had drawn from Rose’s story. “And to add insult to injury, I conceived a child in your realm, basically bearing the heir that will eventually become you.”

Dream nodded, his face becoming pained. “Yes. And I am… sorry, Lyta Hall, that it had to be your son. I, myself am a father, and I fear I lost my son long ago.”

“You did?” Rose questioned, eyes blown wide.

“Not to Death, no,” Dream shook his head at Rose. “My son managed to convince my sister to pass her gift from him, and my son yet lives, though in a sorry state, and I fear that the last we spoke, we claimed we would never see each other again.”

Rose gave him a look that said they would be talking about this later, but for now, Lyta was hunching forward. Quite suddenly. Dream and Rose both jerked up, moving to the woman.

“I just need to think,” Lyta said clutching her head. “I… you’re making me give up my son.”

“I wish there was another way, Lyta Hall,” Dream promised gravely. “I truly am sorry. But not even I can go against the words in my brother’s book. My fate is sealed, and by Destiny’s decree, so is that of your son. I wish there was another way, but I ask that you spend time with your son, let him know he is loved. That, my dear Lyta Hall, will be one of his greatest struggles. I will confess, I have never been very good at seeing love or letting others love me. If I had one wish, one dream , it would be that Daniel Hall know love before he becomes Dream.”

The look Rose was giving him. Perhaps he could get out of this conversation.

He knew better than that, of course.

Suddenly, something nicked at the back of Dream’s neck. A small sort of tickle that caused him to snap to his feet. The feeling became more intense as he turned into the direction of his gallery, breath catching in his throat. 

Twice in less than a year, in less than a decade? Not nearly as rare as they liked to believe. But thrice? In less than a year? 

Unheard of.

“Uncle Dream?” Rose called, concern lacing her voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I am being summoned?” Dream whispered.

“Summoned?”

“My brother requires me,” Dream breathed, suddenly struck by the sheer absurdity of it all. “They all require me, it seems.”

Turning towards the doors, Dream reached through the dreaming, trying to find… “MATTHEW!”

“Here, boss!” Matthew landed on the table. “What’s up?”

“Stay with Lyta Hall and Rose until they wake,” Dream instructed quickly. “And tell Lucienne that I am being summoned.”

“Really? By who?” Matthew questioned, gaze turning towards the direction of Dream’s gallery. “Death? Desire?”

“All of them,” Death spoke, his voice grave. “The third family dinner in less than a year, Matthew. This cannot be good.”

“Third family-” Matthew flapped his wings wildly, clearly panicked. “Are you going to be okay?”

“That, my dear Matthew, I do not know.”

And with that, Dream went towards his gallery, ready to answer the summons from his siblings. For it was all of them calling him. Demanding, really, from the place that wasn’t a place. Destiny had called out first, of course, but then the others were suddenly there, demanding he appear before them.

“I am here, my siblings,” Dream called out as he stepped into Destiny’s realm, “what is-?”

Desire lunged forward, dragged Dream to his chair with such blinding speed that Dream had to take a moment to process what had happened, and slammed a bound stack of paper in front of Dream on the table.

“You are going to sit here and you are going to read this,” Desire huffed, seething at something. “And then we’re going to discuss it.”

Dream kept his emotions stoic as he looked over the packet, instantly recognizing Rose’s work but surprised to find he didn’t recognize the title. Perhaps it was a story that Rose had been working on recently, though he was rather confused at its unbound state. The pages had blood on them, but he supposed it was Despair’s, rather than Rose’s, and the pages were slightly damp, but so was his baby sister, so… He would ask her later, of course, but…

The story itself was addressed to Lyta Hall…

“Oh, Rose…” Dream sighed heavily, not needing to read the tale to know what was written. “What have you done, Rose?”

“You already know what she wrote of,” Despair stated, catching Dream’s own despair easily now that she was actively trying to find it. Because of course she would. He was dipping into her domain, within her sight, something he had been attempting to avoid. “You are unsurprised by the tale this story spins.”

“My Fate was sealed long ago, little sister,” Dream said with such finality. “If that is all you wished to discuss, then I must be going. As you can tell, I must continue preparing my realm for the loss of-”

“Sit down, brother,” Desire was suddenly standing before him, golden eyes and smooth voice forcing Dream to sit as if the desire was Dream’s own. “We did not call you on a whim.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Dream huffed, his body sagging, the fight already gone from him. It had been far too stressful a day for him, his nerves trying to speak to Lyta Hall and now this. “There is nothing to be done and nothing to discuss. The Dreaming will perish and I with it. Daniel Hall will have to repair what is left. My Fate is written in our brother’s book.”

The others all turned to Destiny, desperate for an answer, but Destiny had none to give. At least, he had not the comfort to give them. He, too, had come to accept the fate of his younger brother.

“Destiny, please,” Death tried. “Look in your book. Turn the pages. Look ahead-”

“It does not work that way, my sister,” Destiny corrected her with the weight of an older siblings that had had to repeat himself far too many times. “I cannot turn the pages. But our brother is right. His Destiny has been written in my book and he has been preparing himself for his coming time.”

“But we know this time,” Desire tried, but even the flirt in their voice wavered. “We did not know with my twin, but we know now.”

“That will not make a difference, my sibling,” Despair was the one to voice. “Our knowledge has not changed the words. They have not changed him.”

“He has cracked,” Delirium hummed. “Right in his heart. Big old cracks. They can’t be fixed. He can’t go. He can’t go. So he must go. Far away. Far, far away. Gone and gone and gone. Will I cry? I think I’ll cry. I’ll cry for you, my brother. I love you.”

“And I you, my sister,” Dream told her.

Desire’s gaze snapped to Dream, where their brother had put his hand on top of the packet of words that spoke of a truth in tales. His future had been written twice, it seemed. Once within his brother’s book, and now by his Great Grand-Niece. 

There were some things even Desires could not obtain, and Dream let his siblings bury their face in his lap, gripping the ends of his robe as they processed this one Desire they could not obtain. He knew they would need a moment as they trembled, and Dream allowed himself to comfort Despair, running a hand through her hair with a delicateness that he had once known but long forgotten. A love that Rose and Jed had reawoken within him.

“I must get back to work,” Dream stood once more as Desire pulled back. He grabbed the tale Rose had written, moving past his siblings with one last goodbye, allowing Death to wrap him in an embrace. “Pardon me, my siblings, I did not wish for you to find out this way.”

“But you wouldn’t tell us,” Delirium whispered, causing Dream to stop. “You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t. You would go. You would die. You wouldn’t tell. You wouldn’t tell. You wouldn’t tell.”

“No,” Dream admitted. “I would not have told you. Perhaps it would have been better had I never spoken of it. But I have much to prepare, and I must go. Good day, my siblings.”

“We’re just going to let him die?!” Desire wailed as Dream left them, fury rising inside them.

“I don’t believe we have a choice, my twin,” Despair tried to soothe, though unable to do so. “It was written in our brother’s book.”

“You cannot be serious? Death! My dear sister! Do something !”

“There is nothing I can do, my sibling<’ Death shook her head, smile nowhere to be seen. “Dream has decided his fate.”

“He’s not okay,” Delirium cut off whatever Desire was going to shriek next, her voice soft, almost a whisper except that it was an octave too high. “He’s sad, and something is wrong. He’s not okay. He’s got cracks. So many cracks. I don’t think my brother is okay, Desire.”

“No, baby sister, he is most definitely not okay,” Desire agreed, for once unbothered by their sister’s insane musing. “The idiot. ”

Death and Destiny remained silent. One in her mourning of what was to come, the other only focused on his book. Reading the words before him. For Destiny could only see the present moment, yet as he was born of time, the present moment was what it needed to be. 

The present moment was his brother’s fate, and the words…

The words were blurred. Indecisive. 

How strange?

Chapter Text

Rose Walker thought she was in love . Boy was she wrong.  

Now that she had money to afford it, Rose had left Jed in the capable hands of Lyta and Dream, and made her way back across the ocean so that she could finally sort through Unity Kincaid’s assets. All, of which, had been left to her and Jed.

She met Mr. Holdaway Jr., the nephew of the late Mr. Holdaway, who had passed away some time after Unity, herself. And, of course, as anyone would do with a rather attractive person before them, she took her shot. 

But of course, Mr. Jack Holdaway, former love of Rose Walker’s life, was already spoken for.

After weeks of a relationship between them, Rose had discovered this fact one normal day like any other. Rose had half a mind to ruin the man’s life by calling up his significant other, but Rose was tired. 

So very tired.

Instead, with nearly everything ready to either be sold, shipped, or brought home, Rose decided to take up the rather kind offer given to her by the owner of the hospice home where Unity Kincaid had slept her life away, dreaming of what could have been. The man seemed nice enough, and she didn’t have to be worried about being hit on, either, as the man was very, very gay. So when Rose went to the nice man who owned the hospice home and asked if his offer was still open to explore the ancient, mostly abandoned mansion of his comatose lover, she was beyond relieved to be in a car with a nice old man who was kindly giving her an escape.

Paul McGuire seemed pleasant enough company, after all.

Or, he had, for a time, until Rose found the secret kept in the basement.

She had stumbled on it by accident. Paul had given her the run of the house while he finished some work, promising a proper tour later, but then she had gotten lost trying to find the kitchen for something to eat and stumbled on the stairs to the basement where…

A broken circle…

A still moat…

A glass cage…

She had her hand pressed to a glass cage.

Dream never spoke much of his captivity, nor of his captors, but when he did, she and Jed liked to compare notes. Tried to understand what exactly had happened to their Great Grand-Uncle by slowly putting the pieces together. They had such a fractured painting of his suffering. A century long wait. In the cold and dark. Naked. Mocked. Trapped by some ancient magic. Glass being the greatest mockery of it all. 

“Glass, a thing  made of sand, could confine me so…”

The rest of that puzzle had just fallen into place.

Her breath quickened, heart feeling like it was hammering in her chest. The sight of the glass, shattered, was only slightly reassuring, and Rose found herself skuffling backward, further ruining the magic binding circle that once bound Dream to this realm.

She may have forgotten the moat behind her.

Next thing Rose knew, her feet were slipping out from under her as she fell backwards, barely registering that she probably should hold her breath before she hit the water. The shock was so sharp within her chest that she forgot to breathe, and when she did remember to breathe, it was to the horror of sucking in water through her lungs rather than air.

Had Dream been able to breathe? In his cage of glass? Rose did not think so?

What torture had he endured at their hands?

“Glass, a thing  made of sand, could confine me so…”

A pair of hands in the water, dragging her up, and Rose once more tried to breathe, only to choke on the water already in her throat. Someone rolled her over, giving her the ability to expel the water from her lungs. Her ears were ringing, too, and Rose struggled to listen, to hear her rescuer or captor’s voice.

“Breathe, Rose,” the voice seemed to beg, rubbing awkwardly at her back in some frantic attempt to shove the water out. “Please. Just breathe.”

“Calm yourself, dear brother,” another voice seemed to purr, breathy and relieved all at once. “Our sister is not here. I do not believe she is in any danger of leaving us, yet.”

“You and Despair were the ones who came to me in a flurry of horror, Desire,” the first voice huffed, though there was a pained edge to it. “Do not tell me to be calm.”

“Uncle Dream?” Rose managed to cough out, hands fisting in the fabric of his cloak. “Gran Desire?”

A hand in her hair, soaking her wet locks. “We are here, sweet child,” Desire cooed and purred to her. “It’s alright. Uncle Dream and I arrive just in time.”

It was Dream holding her, then.

So that meant she was safe, with both her Gran and Uncle here for her. Protecting her and… but… if Dream was here, then that meant she had summoned him. And if she had summoned him, then that meant she had dragged Dream from the safety of the Dreaming to the place where…

No…

“I’m sorry,” Rose spluttered around the last of the water.

“Sorry?” Desire questioned, looking to Dream in clear confusion. Dream gave no answer, and Rose was too busy clutching to Dream and leaning into Desire’s touch to look at him. “What do you have to be sorry for, child?”

“This is the place,” Rose sucked in a large lungful of air as she leaned into Dream. “The place where they captured you and kept you like a zoo animal. Like a prized toy. I made you come back here. I’m sorry.”

Desire’s gaze was burning into Dream’s skin, hypothetically, of course, but the way Desire observed him was not that of which Dream was used to. No longer did Desire watch him like a predator stalking its prey. Instead it was like a wounded solider waiting for a bomb to finally go off. 

Dream hated it, of course. Just as he hated this room. This house.

“For you, Rose, I would destroy realms,” Dream confessed, pulling her tighter to his chest. “Come. Let us both be rid of this place.”

With Rose tucked under his arm, shivering slightly from the water, Dream led them both up the stairs of the manor, to the place Dream had never been, himself. Desire walked close behind, gaze flittering back to the cage and back to Dream, and back to the cage…

Paul McGuire was calling for Rose when they emerged, and he went whiter than snow at the sight of them.

“No. Please. She’s just a child. She had nothing to do with this.” Paul tried to plead.

Any other time, Dream might have been amused. But Paul, though clearly siding with his lover, had never been fond of Dream’s captivity. Had turned a blind eye to a careless mistake. 

“I am not here to curse Rose Walker,” Dream stated, “nor am I here to touch you, Paul McGuire. I owe you a debt. I am simply here to ensure that that which is mine is properly cared for. And away from the likes of you .”

Piece said, Dream ushered Rose outside, where Desire had skipped ahead to get them a taxi. Where they were going, Dream was not sure, but Rose was tucked against his chest, and Desire had their hand linked with his, the other rubbing circles into Rose’s thigh.

Wherever they went, Dream would trust Desire for now.

And perhaps Dream should have known Desire would choose this place for the safety of their family. In his years of captivity, Dream had longed for a friend, any friend, but one in particular had his heart yearned for. A desire that his sibling would have picked up on, and the mere smile on the man’s face had revealed to Dream that his dearest friend had truly longed for Dream to one day appear before him/. Relieved when he finally did so. 

Guiding Rose out of the car, Dream found himself standing before The New Inn , owned and run by his dear friend, Hob Gadling. 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay,” Desire informed Dream, Rose a bit too despondent to grasp what was happening around her. “But I’ve already had what was left of Rose’s things delivered here. Room booked and all. Take good care of her, brother dearest.”

“Goodbye, my sibling,” Dream bid as the taxi took off. “Come, Rose, let us get you inside and into something warm. Then we can get you something to eat.”

Rose was still despondent, allowing Dream to guide her into the Inn and towards the bar, where Dream calmly asked for both the key to Rose’s room, and for the whereabout of the owner.

“He’s out,” the bartender eyed him carefully. “Listen, man, we don’t support-”

“He’s my Uncle,” Rose finally spoke up, cutting off whatever crude accusation was going to happen. “I… I had a bad accident and I called him to help me. It was at my old hotel, so…, but my mom was adopted.”

The bartender’s gaze softened as he handed Dream the key to Rose’s room. Though it was clear he was still skeptical of their relation, Dream decided now was not the time to let the whims of mortals bother him. 

Rose was shaken, and if he was being truthful, so was he.

When Despair and Desire had both summoned him, urgently needing to talk, Dream hadn’t been sure what game they were playing, but when Despair shoved them through the glass where Rose was staring in such horror at the prison Dream was once captive in, he had wasted no time in tugging Rose out of the water, Desire taking a moment to breathe in relief when their sister did not appear to claim the girl.

Dream hardly had time to process where he was until Rose spoke, and the emotions that came with such a dreadful place had not begun to affect him until Paul McGuire spoke. 

As Rose disappeared into the bathroom to change, Dream settled himself gingerly on the bed.

His hands were shaking. Trembling. He could not make them stop this accursed action.

Rose could, however, as she clasped his hands in her own. Both sat on the bed, clasping the other’s hands, they simply let themselves’ bask in the presence of the other, grounding themselves.

Stirred only by a polite knock on the door.

Rose pulled away, moving to the door slowly, sluggishly, a sign of her time spent in the pool, however short, and of the hours the two had just spent pressed together. Dream supposed he should return home, but he so desperately did not wish to leave Rose alone. 

“Good day, Ms.,” a familiar voice crashed over Dream, pleasant with a bit of concern. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I heard you had a right scare when you came in today and wanted to be sure you were alright.”

“I-”

“It is alright, Hob Gadling,” Dream called from the bed, pushing himself to a stand so he could fall into the view of his friend. “I would not allow any harm to come to Rose.”

Hob’s eyes blew wide at the sight of his friend, standing behind a girl who looked to be a teenager. Rose, who had heard Hob’s name before, moved aside, looking Hob up and down as she now had a face to put to the friend Dream spoke of on rare, happy occasions.

“You-”

“Hob, may I introduce you to my Great Grand-Niece, Rose Walker,” Dream went about this as cordially as he could. “Rose, may I introduce you to my friend, Hob Gadling.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rose gave Hob a smile, albeit shaky, still ruffled from her experience earlier. 

“You have… family?” was what Hob managed to blurt out after gaping. “Of course you have family. I met your ex-wife, but this…”

“You met my… ex-wife?” Dream cut off Hob’s rant, voice seeming to tremor further. “Who?”

“You show up here, dragging in some Great Grand-Neice, don’t even think to give me a call or something, and all you want to know is about your ex-wife?” Hob grumped, running a hand down his face and turning to Rose. “Do you see what I deal with? I’ll take it he’s kinder to you, yes?”

Rose giggled, the first pleasant sound that had come past her lips in days. “When he’s… not being a drama queen.”

Hob snorted, becoming a full blown laugh when Dream made a sound of protest. 

“Oh, I like you,” Hob grinned. “Well, Oneiros, to answer your question-”

“You met Calliope?” Dream questioned, eyes going wide. 

“Yes,” Hob gruffed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. “How did you guess?”

“The name,” Rose spoke up, while Dream stood gobsmacked. “It’s Greek, and not the name he goes by, anymore, except for with the Greek gods.”

“Oh, so I’ve got an out of date name, then,” Hob threw his arms up in mock frustration. “Suppose I’ll have to keep guessing, then. Glad I’ve got a basis, this time. But, speaking of your ex, she’s here, actually. Been trying to help her return to Greece.”

“Where?”

“Hold your horses, mate,” Hob held his hands up in surrender. “Why don’t I get us all some dinner, and I’ll bring her over.”

“Please,” Dream agreed, his gaze turning to Rose. “I apologize, Rose, I meant to get you something to eat.”

“Don’t… apologize,” Rose shook her head, “I dragged you down there, remember. Besides, I’m not sure I could have eaten anything when we showed up. I am kind of hungry now, though.”

“Then I’ll get us all dinner,” Hob clapped, brightly, giving a grin, “and I’ll let Calliope know you’re here. Be right back, Oneiros.”

“Morpheus!”

Hob paused in his turn, having already appeared to go, Rose was already looking at her Uncle, eyes widen as she slowly began to smile.

“What?” Hob questioned.

“Morpheus is the name I prefer,” Dream told his dear friend. “That or Dream. I am Dream of the Endless, Hob Gabling. One of seven Endless who are above even gods. Yes, Calliope and I were married, once. And yes, Rose Walker is my Great Grand-Niece. I believe it is only… polite for friends to introduce themselves properly.”

As Dream spoke, a slow, beaming smile spread across Hob’s face. “Yeah. Bout time, you idiot.”

And with that, Hob was practically skipping down the hallway, and Rose shut the door. The grin on her face was proud, and Dream found he wasn’t sure how to deal with that emotion, so he pulled Rose in for another hug to hide her face in his chest so he wouldn’t have to look at it.

By the huff she gave, Rose knew exactly what he was doing.

A knock, and Dream pulled away from the door to welcome their newest guest.

“Oneiros,” Calliope breathed, a delicate smile on her face until her eyes landed on Rose. “Oh. I… I apologize, Oneiros, I did not realize-”

“Rose Walker is my niece, Calliope,” Dream spoke in a sort of soft way. Different from the way he would speak to her or Jed, but still soft. Caring. Loving. Rose wondered if Calliope could hear how his voice changed for her. “My Great Grand-Niece. My sibling, Epithumia,laid with a dormant Dream Vortex and Rose Walker was what came of that union. She is family, and she has been eager to meet you.”

“Uncle Dream told me about you,” Rose gave the woman a kind smile, dropping her voice low at the next part, “though most of the tales I heard came from Lucienne. Will you join us for dinner?”

“I would be glad to,” Calliope agreed, allowing the affronted Dream to offer his hand and lead her into the room. “But please, tell me, are you both alright? I apologize if you wish me not to pry, but-”

“Its been an awful, cruddy day,” Rose admitted for them. “For both of us.”

Dream allowed Calliope’s hand to stay in his own, not meeting her gaze, but not refusing her presence near his. Much the same as he had before, when he had come to her rescue. Her words that day still stung, her believing he would have left her there, in her captivity. Part of him knew they were true, but he hated to think he could ever…

Desire knew his heart well, and it would be truly unlike them to simply leave well enough alone. Saving Rose was one thing, but Desire had always liked to toy with Dream’s love life. Perhaps Dream made it easy for them to do so, perhaps it was truly Dream’s own fault for ignoring the old laws and falling into Desire’s realm. But…

“I had not yet realized that you had not returned to Mount Olympus,” Dream confessed as he led her to the bed to sit.

“The trekk is long,” Calliope said, taking Dream’s other hand in her own, seeing exactly what Rose had seen, the shake and the tremors. “And travel in this world is not what it once was. You need documentation, records, all manner of things. Things I do not have. That is no fault of yours, Oneiros.”

“I could have helped,” Dream tried.

“You did, more than I could have ever hoped, and after you, yourself suffered,” Calliope corrected, bringing his hands to rest against her lips, not daring to kiss them. Not without his permission. “And now your dear friend, Hob, he is kind. He is helping me forge documents so I might return home. I was lucky to have found him, and to have found one you call friend, too.”

“I, too, am glad that you found yourself in the presence of Hob Gadling,” Dream agreed with his once lover. “And I am glad for my sibling’s interference in today’s matters.”

“You are shaken, Oneiros,” Calliope whispered the words in Greek, both vaguely aware that Hob had returned, and that Rose was helping him set up the food before them. “Will you tell me what ails you?”

“My niece, through a set of painful circumstances, found herself unknowingly in the presence of my former captors,” Dream confessed to her. And, oh, how that felt to finally speak, to finally say. Rose had been rather insistent that Dream needed to speak of his captivity, if not to her, then to someone. Dream could never burden her with that pain, with that agony. She would not understand, and she already suffered enough on his behalf. But to tell Calliope. To tell Hob, who somehow… knew Greek and was now looking to Dream, wide-eyed and terrified… “They did not harm her, but she found the cage they kept me in, still shattered in the basement, and she nearly drowned. Had Epithumia and Aponia not been watching, I fear Teleute would have claimed her.”

“Oneiros…” Calliope breathed, so soft, softer than Dream deserved. She was pressing their foreheads together, now, slightly more daring than before, but not unwelcome. “Oneiros, you shake and tremble. You are here, Oneiros, with me. With your friend. With your niece. We are here and we breathe, my love. Can you breathe with me? With us?”

Hob was crouched before them, and Rose was wrapped around his waist on his other side. Grounding him, he believed the technique was called. He would need to thank Desire later, for had they not planned this…

Tears. Tears Dream had forbidden to fall since Jessamy’s death. He let them fall now, surrounded by family and friend and former lover. It was a terrible, awful, wretched experience. Yet it was so wonderful, freeing, and beautiful at the same time. 

Dream mourned. Mourned the bits of Dreaming that were gone because of his absence, mourned the chaos that had been caused in his absence, and mourned the death of his friend, his raven. 

Dream did not want to forgive Alex Burgess for the pain he and his father caused. He wanted the man to suffer as he and for everything that cult had done to him. But here, wrapped in the arms of those he cherished, he allowed himself to grieve, and perhaps… he would bring himself to forgive. 

Calliope had been right. Vengeance brought no relief to his pain, but choosing to let it go… perhaps it was time he let himself listen to her advice. As he should have done long ago, with their son.

They ate. They drank. They exchanged stories. Told tales of past and present. And, around him, they fell asleep. 

Dream had a job to do.

—------------------------------------

“I have… learned much about love, about children,” he told Calliope as they walked along the beach of… where… she did not know. “Things, perhaps, I should have realized long ago, with our son.”

It was peaceful. Quiet. Beautiful. A fitting place to be, Calliope decided as she walked hand in hand with Oneiros. The sound of seagulls came from everywhere and nowhere, cawing to each other. The water lapped against their feet as they walked barefoot through the sand, crashing against the shore like a gentle caress. A place of dreams. Fitting, indeed.

“Perhaps,” Calliope agreed, “but you are more… open. Willing to listen, I suppose. You have changed, Oneiros, and not in a bad way. You have allowed yourself to be more… expressive.”

“You mean I have stopped trying to hide my emotions behind a brick wall,” Oneiros stated flatly. “As Rose and Jed like to say.”

“If that is the analogy you wish to make, then yes, Oneiros, Rose and Jed have certainly torn down that brick wall, though I would have called it more than a wall. A fortress, I think.”

“I regret introducing you,” Dream deadpanned, causing Calliope to laugh.

“Was that a joke, dear Oneiros?” Calliope giggled. “So unlike you, my love. At least, the you before our burden’s took us.”

“Yes. I suppose my captivity has changed me for the better,” Dream seemed to sulk beside her.

“And yet not at all, my love,” Calliope drew his chin up to meet hers. “Perhaps your emotions came through in your captivity, but you, my love, have truly let yourself thrive with Rose Walker. She may not be your own, but you treat her as such.”

“The way I should have treated our son,” Dream said.

Oh…

“Let us talk, Calliope,” Dream whispered to her. “You asked to talk, and I am willing to do so. There is… much I regret. Once, I would have believed he would never want to see me, but now that I know those thoughts are untrue, I find myself… afraid to see him.”

“Because of your guilt?” Calliope questioned, not unkindly, because she thinks she understands, now. Having been on the other end of Dream’s wrath, love, hatred, and sorrow, she thinks she understands. “Because of how it ended?”

“No,” Dream shook his head. “I have since come to terms with my guilt, for my faults in what happened to Orpheus. No, it is that I know, in the end, when we meet again, I know for certain neither of us will hold any ill will or hatred to the other. It will be contempt that we hold in our hearts. What scares me, Calliope, is that I know what he will ask of me. And that I know I will give it.”

Calliope wasn’t sure she liked where this was going. Something in her chest tightened at the words her once-lover spoke.

“What will he ask, my love? What has you so scared to go see him?”

Dream looked at her, truly looked at her for the first time since they reunited at the home of Richard Madoc’s house. And in that gaze, Calliope saw her answer. 

She feared it, too.

—----------------------------------------

“And if you need anything,” Hob told her for the millionth time. “You call, alright?”

“I promise,” Rose drawled out the world, dramatically sagging against the car as if Hob’s words made her physically exhausted. “I’ll call, Uncle Hob. But I have to get into the airport or I’ll miss my flight.”

“Alright, alright, off you go,” Hob waved off, laughing as Rose gave him one last hug. “Tell you what, Rosie. I’ve got a few centuries left in me, and it’ll be about time I disappear for a bit. Maybe I’ll come pop by and stay with you for a bit. Help with the baby king in the making, set up a new alias. We can go visit Calli over here from time to time.”

“I’d like that,” Rose grinned. “I’ll get a place set up for you. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Hob hummed, then turning his gaze to Calliope, who was, thankfully, dressed in clothes that better fit the time. “Be careful, darling. You have a long road ahead.”

“I know,” Calliope hummed, smile never leaving her face as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Hob Gadling.”

“You don’t need to thank me, my dear.”

“I did, and I do,” Calliope stated, cupping that same cheek. “Until I met you, I had been wary of others. Of Mortals. Feared them. Especially men, for men had continued to hurt me, and others could do nothing until Oneiros saved me. I feared mortals, and yet you found me and were kind to me. Even when I told you of my gift, of my blessing, you still treated me as a person. For that, Hob Gadling, I thank you.”

“Well,” Hob sniffed, clearly touched. “Why don’t we do ourselves both a favor and keep in touch? One immortal being to an immortal mortal?”

Calliope laughed, full in bright in a way she had once feared would never come again. “I would like that, Hob Gadling. And please, do come visit.”

Goodbyes said, Rose and Calliope linked hands as they entered the airport to begin their journey. Separately, of course, going to their respective homes, but Calliope had no idea how to navigate an airport, so Rose was going to get her to her hanger and they would part ways.

“Rose,” Calliope spoke suddenly, cutting through their personal silence. “If I believe something was… wrong… could I call you?”

“Of course,” Rose said quickly. “Is something wrong?”

“I hope not,” Calliope squeezed her hand. “But I suppose that remains to be seen. Thank you, Rose. For everything. If you ever need anything, please feel free to call upon me.”

Rose had a feeling that thank you expanded more than just the time they had spent together at The New Inn , but she wasn’t going to say anything, nor would Calliope speak of it either.

Jed was going to be so jealous, though. Maybe she could convince Dream to do a little meet and greet in the Dreaming.

Settled into her chair, Rose let herself drift off where her Uncle was already waiting on a beach. It was a place Rose and Jed were convinced Dream had made for them, or perhaps it was private place he came alone. Whatever the case was, Rose was welcome in this place, and Dream was waiting.

They sat on the beach, allowing the water to lap at their toes for a bit, simply sitting in silence. 

“Uncle Dream.”

“Yes, Rose?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“...”

“...”

“I know, Rose.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I’m scared, Uncle Dream.”

“Do you wish to be rid of the baby?”

“No. But I’m scared.”

“So was I. But I believe, Rose, you will be a far better mother than I ever was a father.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“...”

“...”

“Uncle Dream?”

“Yes, Rose?”

“I don’t think you’re a bad father.”

“... Thank you, Rose.”

They stayed in silence until the flight landed, and Rose could once more be reunited with her best friend and her little brother. Rose had much to tell them. Dream had much to ponder.

Chapter Text

“MORPHEUS!” Lyta screeched through the air, causing many of their neighbors to flinch, but quickly return to their days, Rose and Jed especially. 

Dream appeared post haste, looking to where Lyta pointed testily at her son’s crib. The Dream Lord blinked owlishly at the sand covering the sheets, hand coming up to run down his face.

“I swear, Lyta, I didn’t-”

“At this point, Morpheus, I don’t care,” Lyta grumbled, pulling the sheets off the bed and into the already awaiting basket. “What I do care about is how hard it is to wash sand out of sheets, and how many quarters I go through in a week to do so!”

Shoving past the King of Dreams, Lyta took the sandy sheets out, trusting that Morpheus would either watch Daniel himself, or leave him with Rose and Jed after leaving a note on the fridge. 

Mrorpheus turned to look at the child, easily noting the cheeky grin on the toddler’s face.

“Can you please, for all our sanity, stop dragging sand into the waking world,” Dream begged, knowing it would be a futile effort. “The Dreaming will be yours in time, you can do with the sand as you like, but please, Daniel. The sand needs to remain in the dreaming.”

Daniel gave a huff, but said nothing. Of course, he was not yet skilled at the human language, but it surprised Dream to find that Daniel did not have anything to say in his original language that he would soon forget. The usually chatty child who wasn’t afraid to lecture (a quirk he clearly got from his mother) had nothing to say.

“Come, Daniel, let us get you looked after until your mother comes back,” Dream stated, scooping the child up. “Have you eaten?”

This did get Daniel talking.

“Ah, so you have eaten,” Dream hummed, much to the child’s babbling protest. “Don’t think you can fool me, Daniel. I’ve learned your tricks. However, if we both agree not to tell your mother, I suppose we can have a snack.”

Rose, thankfully, came to relieve Morpheus from caring for Daniel, knowing her Uncle needed to return to his realm. He had much to oversee, much that needed to be cared for. 

Such was the life of Morpheus’ weird family and the dynamic that came of it.

—------------------------------------------

There were a few of them sat in Fiddler’s Green, all with Rose and Jed. Not all of them, of course, those in the Dreaming did have things to do, but a few were gathered. Matthew, of course, was perched on a tree as he watched. Daniel and Lyta sat together, thankfully no sand to be found. Goldie the Gargoyle was there with Cain and Abel. Merv had been there for a time, but needed to rush off. Gault was sat beside Jed.

“Hi, Nuala!” Jed waved brightly to the fairy given to their Uncle as a gift. “Come sit with us! Gilbert is telling us stories!”

Nuala was always a bundle of nerves around the Walker siblings. It was no secret to anyone in the dreaming that the fairy had a massive crush on Dream. Her affection often came out in her massive bouts of cleaning their lord’s throne room, which then branched off into the entire castle whenever Dream’s latest lover decided to show face. 

“Are you sure you want me to join you?” she asked, voice shaky as she scooted a little forward.

“Of course, my dear!” Fiddler’s Green used a branch to gently push Nuala forward towards their circle. “All our welcome. Now, let’s see, you asked me about my Lord’s lovers?”

Nuala squeaked.

“Well, he has had many lovers, though I don’t recall them all, I am not nearly old enough to know them all, either,” Gilbert inquired, and those gathered could just picture him tapping his chin. “I fear our Lord of Dreams has a bad habit of getting his heart crushed. And he finds it hard to allow himself to stay in a souring relationship because of it. There was one that broke him, I believe. Killalla was her name. Killalla broke his heart when she cheated on him with a cosmos. All she needed was his name and she abandoned Lord Morpheus out of nowhere. Which led to many of Lord Morpheus’ failed relationships in this world.”

“How do you cheat on someone with a cosmos?” Jed asked, brow furrowed as he looked to Gault.

“The solar systems have a life of their own, Jed,” Gault explained patiently to the boy and the mortals in their presence. “Each system’s suns occasionally have meetings to discuss what has happened in their realms. The Endless, as overseers of their realm, are often called to these gatherings. Our Lord Dream used to enjoy them. Learning of the realms that would bring new dreamers. But he hardly attends them now.”

“Of course not!” Cain spat the words. “The girl shattered his heart in so many ways the Dreaming was nearly destroyed! And that Sto-Oa still lives, you know!”

“Hush, Cain,’ Fiddler’s Green scolded. “Let us not drag up old wounds. Now, shortly after that, if I recall, the Dreaming was attacked.”

“Attacked?” 

“Oh yes,” Gilbert hummed. “Again, too young I was. Though I was created shortly after this time.”

“I know this one, Fiddler’s Green,” Nuala offered softly for the dream. “Alianora was his lover then. Two ancient gods came to the Dreaming and managed to trap Lord Morpheus inside the dreaming. It was before we fairies had been offered sanctuary here, but we had heard of the carnage it wrought. Felt it, too. They began to viciously tear the Dreaming apart and with Lord Morpheus trapped as such, he called on his siblings for aid, but only the one known as Desire came to answer his plea, and with them, they sent the warrior known as Alianora. With the aid of Lady Alianora, they beat the old gods and both the gates and the helm Lord Morpheus wears are crafted from the bones of those gods. A warning.”

“Exactly right, my dear,” Gilbert praised the now blushing fairy. “Of course, as Desire intended, Lord Morpheus and Lady Alianora fell in love. Though I fear it was a love not meant to last, though I dare say it was not a bad falling out. Simply a fleeting romance on her part. As for my Lord, he bid her stay in the Dreaming, and she now presides over a realm inside the Dreaming known as “The Land” where women may come and seek refuge. Or, she did until most recently. She chose to move on to the Sunless Lands just some few months ago. They parted on rather kind terms, I must say.”

Rose looked to Lyta, both remembering the strange call Barbie had sent them one day and the funeral they had helped her attend. Both had recognized the signs of Endless influence pretty easily, though neither had confronted Dream about it just yet.

“Now, let’s see. Like many of the Endless, Lord Morpheus found himself rather captivated by this particular system and world. I believe that was Destruction's influence. Nada was too soon after that one, and as a result, he cursed her to Hell.”

“What?” Rose hissed.

“Oh, the tale of Nada,” Gilbert hushed Rose’s horrified fury. “A tale of tragedy on both ends, I fear. But never fear, he forgave her and Nada now lives a new life, growing up day by day as a mere babe. Ask Lucienne for that tale, my dear, she tells it far better than I. If I recall, Lucienne was his Raven at the time, and she’ll have more than a book to tell you that tale. Then, let’s see, Lady Calliope… I believe she was next, and their relationship went further than most.”

“She was one of his better lovers,” Cain gruffed with a nod. “A shame, really.”

“I-I agree,” Abel nodded along, avoiding a swipe from his brother. “Lady Calliope was-was nice.”

“Yes, Lady Calliope and Lord Morpheus truly dedicated themselves to each other,” Gilbert hummed fondly. “They bore a son, and part of his tale is still told. The tale of Orpheus.”

“Orpheus?” Lyta’s head whipped to look at the tree that they had all associated with Gilbert’s voice. “Like, Orpheus and Eurydice? The son of Apollo”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Gilbert nodded morbidly. “Though I’m sure you’ve realized dear Orpheus was not the son of Apollo. Pardon my language, dears, but Apollo was a git.”

Cain snorted at this, and Lyta covered her son’s ears as Rose mockingly did the same to a giggling Jed.

“Lord Morpheus, as he had learned to do, feared Calliope leaving him. The pattern of his lovers doing as such truly stained his heart, I fear. So he slowly began to pull away. In the end, the child managed to mend the bond for a short while, though not wholly. In the end, despite Dream warning Orpheus not to, Dream gave in to his son’s request and directed him to his sister, Death. The boy begged his aunt to make him immortal so he may go through Hell and save his love. Only for it all to be in vain.”

“That’s terrible,” Nuala gasped.

“Yes, but it only became worse,” Gilbert hummed, a sad, chilly breeze flying through the air. “At a festival in Thrace, dear Orpheus was beside himself in grief and refused to take part. Because of this, the daughters of Dionysus came for him, savage women that they were. They tore him limb from limb and threw his head in the river. By that point, Lord Morpheus and Lady Calliope had already parted ways, and his grief fell into his last conversation with his son. Orpheus chose to forsake his father, and left with such finality as Endless must, Lord Morpheus did what little he could for the boy and sent him comfortably in a temple place.”

“So they had a fight?” Lyta frowned, looking to her son. “I couldn’t imagine not talking to my son for that long.”

“Why don’t they just make up?” Jed asked Gilbert. “If I fight with Rose, we would just make up.”

“I am afraid it isn’t that simple,” Gilbert used a branch to pat Jed’s head. “You see, my dear boy, while I have no doubt Lord Morpheus would wish to make-up with his son, just as he has with Lady Calliope, I fear that should they ever meet, there is only one thing Orpheus would ask of his father, and it is something we of the dreaming should all fear.”

“Why?” Jed tried to press.

“Another time, Jed, my boy,” Gilbert chided. “There are something I am not yet privy to tell you.”

Rose, however, sat there stewing over those words. For she remembered the ancient law that would have condemned her Uncle had he killed her. If Orpheus was still alive, presiding in a temple, then Rose had a sinking feeling she knew what would happen should Dream go to him. 

Something about this sent a warning through her head, remembering Calliope’s words.

“Now, I’m sure as you all well know, Lord Morpheus’ current love is Thessaly.”

This elicited several growns of despair from the dreams.

“I am not overly fond of this one,” Gault declared, something bitter in her voice.

“Nor am I,” Cain huffed, clearly agitated at some reminder of something. “She is more the type to only care for that which benefited her, nothing more, nothing less. She has Lord Morpheus wrapped around her finger, she does! Guilted him through many things and into many actions. I wish her gone!”

“But-but it will rain. So very hard. For-For weeks, it will!”

“Shut up, you twat!”

“Cain! Abel!” Gilbert snapped, causing the brothers to stop their foolishness. “Now is not the time. Whether we like any of our lord’s lovers or whether they were never worth his time is not the point of these tales. We are here to answer Dear Lyta’s questions.”

“And what do you think of her, Fiddler’s Green?” Nuala found herself asking.

“Hmmm,” Hob muttered. “While I believe Lord Morpheus truly loves Thessaly, as he often does with his lovers, I cannot say I care for her, myself. Through the centuries, Lord Morpheus has let himself shut off his emotions after ever failed love. You see, the sweetest of Dreams are made of love, all kinds of love, and to craft such Dreams, our dear lord believed he must learn to feel it, as such, he has continued to break one of the sacred laws written before his time, and as a result, tragedy befalls those he allows himself to love, and he continues to suffer. For a time, he lost himself, lost his role. Our dear King of Dreams truly believes his imprisonment was justified, you know. A punishment for what he became, allowing him time to reflect.”

“What ancient law, Fiddler’s Green?” Nuala inquired.

“Why, only the second most important rule of the lot,” Gilbert stated. “Not To Fall In Love With Mortals, For Nothing Good Can Come Out Of Such Union. But not to fear, my dears. In its original language, the love implied here was romantic love. English is quite the funny language, it is, being one of the only languages in the world with only one word for love.”

“But, from your description, none of Dream’s lovers were mortal,” Lyta pointed out. “They were gods and immortals. All except Nada.”

“Yes, quite true,” Fiddler’s Green nodded. “But while Nada was an obvious mortal, the others may have been gods or immortals, but they, too, will meet their end. Just as all shall under Death’s true love of life. Some just get longer than others. Even gods and immortals eventually fall, my dear. And if you look at each of our Lord’s lovers, each has met some sort of tragedy, for which, I’m sure you’ve noted, he blames himself.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Lyta hummed absently, more to herself than to the others. “He’s quite the self-martyr, isn’t he Daniel? I suppose that’s why you keep bothering him.”

Daniel cooed his agreement, leaning back into his mother’s stomach and patting her open palms with his own.

“Did Uncle Dream never know love?” Rose asked, the words blurting part her lips as her thoughts became too overwhelming to remain in her head. “He told Lyta, once, that he wanted Daniel to know love. So…”

“Oh, my dear girl,” Fiddler’s Green sighed, causing a wary sort of breeze to ruffle their hair. “Lord Morpheus did not come from a loving family, you know. Not even dear Death was always so kind. No, when they began their journeys, I fear that neither Lord Time or Lady Night had much care for their children, and their interactions were rare. Often scoldings or harsh lessons. Love was hard to come by, but because Dream needed to know love, he searched for it, and I fear he cursed himself that way.”

“Cursed himself?” Rose asked.

“Yes. The worst curse imaginable. You see, my dear, Lord Morpheus does not simply turn his past lovers away out of anger. Rather, I fear, he turns them away because they have stated they no longer love him, and as a result, he must turn them away because, my dears, Lord Morpheus has not the power to fall out of love.”

“Not… fall out of love?” Nuala whispered in growing horror.

“Yes, my dear girl,” Gilbert said a cold, chilling gust of wind washing over them. “Lord Morpheus, I believe, wishes young Daniel to know love because he hopes to save the young heir from the same suffering and torment he must live with for the rest of his life. When Daniel is set to be claimed as Dream of the Endless, he will become him, but along with his memories of the former Dream King, young Daniel will have his memories of his life as a mortal, and Lord Morpheus believes his memories will act as a contradiction to his own follies. To spare him, in a sense.”

The group sat in silence, all trying to process what they had discovered, of the curse Dream was under. Rose, especially, found herself thinking of Jack and how she had slowly, gradually fallen out of love with the man. She could not imagine being unable to stop loving a person, especially one that would so easily throw you away.

“Then I guess we’ll have to make sure Daniel feels loved,” Rose declared, “and we’ll do the same for Uncle Dream.”

“Of that, Rose, I have no doubt,” Gilbert chuckled.

—----------------------------------------------

Jed had tried to make it in time. He’d heard the commotion, had turned the corner to see it happen. But he had not made it in time, and now the tiny kitten had just died in his arms. 

“Why do you people have to be so cruel?” Jed whispered as he tried his best to take of the horrid cord with shaking hands, wound tight around the kitten’s neck. “Why?”

“I suppose that’s just how people are,” a voice spoke from behind Jed, causing him to tense. “They can be quite cruel or quite kind. Sometimes they can be both, but those people who are both and those who are completely cruel are easier to find. Here. Let me.”

Looking up, Jed found a woman, dressed in black, with beautifully curled hair, and the kindest smile on her face. She had a weird cross looking thing around her neck, too. With gentle hands, the kind looking woman carefully undid the nasty cord around the kitten’s neck, tossing it away into a nearby dumpster.

“Shall we bury her?” the woman asked. “There’s a nice little place just over there we can give her a proper burial.”

She was British sounding, like Gilbert, and very kind, too. Her voice, that is. She seemed very kind, and she had helped him with the kitten.

“Okay,” Jed agreed, sniffing and climbing to his feet with the kitten in his arms.

The two walked to the other side of the alley where there was a secluded little park, and the nice woman found them a little shovel thing called a spade, and helped him dig a nice grave for the kitten. They found a shoe box in one of the dumpsters to bury the kitten in and then they gave the kitten a proper burial. 

“Do you think she was scared?” Jed asked the woman as they left the little hidden park.

“At first, yes,” the woman said, not unkindly. “But she crossed the border into the sunless lands feeling content in what life she did have. She was not scared in the end, Jed.”

The woman was so kind. So nice. But she said his name.

“How did you know my name?”

“I know everyone’s name,” she told him, turning to give him a kind smile. “Do you know my name, Jed?”

Jed studied her, that weird niggling feeling in the back of his head telling him that he did, in fact, know her. It took him a moment to recognize her, but when he did, his entire face lit up in the sunniest smile Death had ever seen.

“YOU’RE AUNTIE DEATH!” he declared, entire body vibrating as he jumped up and down, latching onto her arm as he continued to bounce. “I know you! Wait. How do I know you?”

Death, who had never been greeted with such joy before, could not help the laugh that bubbled past her lips as she bounced along with the very excited child. “Because you have met me, Jed. I was there when you were born, as I always am, and I will be there when you die.”

“Oh,” Jed stopped bouncing. “Did I die?”

“No, not yet,” Death’s own smile became the one she was used to wearing, still genuine but no less sad. Accepting. “I was there when dear Lila the kitten died, though, and I saw you there, so I thought I might introduce myself again!”

“Oh, okay!” Jed grinned sunny once again. “If I’m still alive, that means I can drag you to meet Rose, and she won’t be sad when she meets you! You’ll come, right?”

Death found herself floored by Jed Walker in that moment, lazily being dragged along to meet her niece, despite Death’s many duties she had to attend. Because Jed had been so genuinely happy to see her, to get to know her, to drag her to Rose. That moment of joy was only interrupted by the fear that had he died, then she would have only have met Rose under sad circumstances. 

Death could not remember the last time a mortal had been so openly willing to meet her, and she found herself temporarily ignoring her duties so that she might spend a precious moment longer in this kind of joy.

She was in the sitting room of Rose’s flat before she could blink, and Jed was letting go of her hand, crying out for his sister.

“ROSE! ROSE! I FOUND AUNTIE DEATH!”

“WHAT THE HECK IS ON YOUR SHIRT!?”

“AUNTIE DEATH AND I BURIED A KITTEN! YOU HAVE TO COME MEET HER, ROSE!”

Ah. Right. Death knew she had been forgetting something. She probably should have told Jed to wash off the blood from the kitten. Dream would hold this over her head for the next millenia, she was sure of it.

—--------------------------------------

“I have a date,” Rose hissed at Desire as she scrambled around to get ready. “You can’t be here right now!”

“I know, dearest, but you can’t blame a Great Grand-Parent for being nosey. I only want what’s best for you.”

“And is this guy a jerk or not worth my time?” 

“Well, he’ll certainly be worth your time, darling,” Desire grinned wolfishly. “But he might also be worth your actual time, too. If you get past his walls, of course. My twin was not kind in her gift to him.”

“Great! I like a challenge,” Rose began rummaging around the kitchen, trying to find something and pulling out several things, she only stopped when a knock came to the door. “Thanks for the concern, Gran! I’ll be sure to try my best! Love you! Hold this!”

Pecking Desire on the cheek, she thrust something into Desire’s hand and moved to the door, greeting the man on the other side. Desire stayed out of sight, pleased with their Great Grand-Daughter’s choice in lover, before looking at what Rose had handed them.

Why were they holding a potato?

—---------------------------------------------

“Lyta, I cannot be-”

“Not my actual boyfriend,” Lyta rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. She huffed out a breath, putting a hand to her forehead. “Look, I need to do some grocery shopping today, and I’d normally go with Rose or Carl, but Rose is on a date and Carl had work. But I really need to grab stuff today and there’s this creep who keeps trying to hit on me and touch me, so I just need-”

“I will accompany you, Lyta,” Dream declared without argument. 

Oh. Well. That was easy.

List in hand and Daniel on her hip, Lyta walked down the street with the King of Dreams. The walk itself was peaceful, minus the occasional odd glance from strangers, but for the most part, they were left alone. 

Setting Daniel in the cart, Lyta let her gaze sweep the store, checking for her harasser, before beginning her shopping. Dream remained silent beside her, keeping in step and occasionally looking to Daniel as the boy babbled in his strange language while practicing English words that Dream would politely correct or praise him for. 

Most of their trip was nice, but it was as Lyta was digging for the baby food Daniel liked that her harasser decided to show his face.

“Hey babe-” the guy cooed, moving to wrap a hand around Lyta’s waste, only to be swatted away by Dream’s arm. “What the heck, man?”

“I suggest you leave,” Dream stated, something dark and dangerous in his voice.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?”

“Believe me, you do not wish to find out,” Dream stated.

Lyta had only ever feared Dream once, when he had ripped away her heart and threatened to steal her soul. Since then, she’s realized many things about the man. He could be a bit of a drama queen, that he sucks at human emotions, and that he was quite possessive and protective of that which he deemed his or his own.

The threat in his voice was genuine, and Lyta did not wish to know what Dream would do to the guy. 

“Dream,” Lyta tried to whisper, “don’t-”

“I don’t believe this is any of your business, mate,” the guy shoved into Dream’s space.

Dream, however, did not cower, simply placed himself between the Lyta and the man. 

“This, unfortunately for you, is my business,” Dream declared. “I protect my own, Jeffery Larson, and you are threatening them. Now, I suggest you leave, and perhaps I will grant you mercy.”

Lyta felt like her heart was going to stop, watching a being more powerful than the gods protect her and her son. Thankfully, before it could escalate to whatever threat Dream had in mind, a store clerk ran over and separated Dream and the man. The store clerk also seemed to recognize the man, calling security for help.

Dream took Lyta by the arm, reached into the shelf and pulled out two containers of Daniel’s baby food, and then guided Lyta and her cart away from the growing commotion.

They quickly grabbed the last things on the list, paid for their items, and left the store before anyone could flag them for a statement. 

“Thank you,” Lyta whispered as Dream dropped her off at the apartment. 

“Of course, Lyta,” Dream said. “Sweet dreams to you both.”

It felt like a promise. 

It probably was.

Chapter Text

As all good stories should, they must come to an end. It was a truth Dream of the Endless knew well. He held the entire collective subconscious in his very essence of being, and from that, Dream of the Endless knew how to tell a good story from a bad one.

He hoped, that when Rose finally finished her book, that she would find the words to properly conclude her tale. Perhaps, as one last favor, he could ask Calliope to give her those words.

But that wasn’t fair to Rose or Calliope. 

Still, in the moments that he ended his conversation with Bast, Dream knew what must be done. For his baby sister so longed to see his little brother, and Death had demanded he fix things between himself and Delirium. So, naturally, Dream would do so. 

He had hoped there would be more time, that his father would grant him some mercy and give him just a little longer.

His father had never been a caring man, at least in Dream's experience, especially for his children. His father wasn't cruel. No, the man had helped Dream once, but due to circumstances Dream had no control of, he lost that fsvor. Foolishly. Time was not cruel nor was he kind. He could be both. His entire life existed in seconds and spanded enternity. He loved his children. He loved Night. But his father was not like mortal parents. He did not do favors blindly and there was nothing anyone could give him for he owned all. He knew all. A skill he passed down to Destiny, who had told Dream to his face that his time had come. 

Just a little longer. Brother. Father. Please. Just a little longer. Allow me to keep my promise.

“Will you wait here, my sister,” Dream looked to Delirium, who was quite content where she sat in the Walker living room, watching TV with Jed. “I will be but a moment.”

Delirium didn’t respond, but Jed gave him a thumbs up, so Dream hoped the boy would keep a close eye on her, not allow her to wander. Rose was watching him, first delighted to see him, but a sense of dread washing over her as she observed him. She led him to her room, shutting the door, both of them standing in front of her vanity mirror, a deliberate action, Dream knew.

“What is it?” Rose whispered the words, as if afraid to ask, afraid of the answer. Arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to fight a chill, eyes locked on his, in the pits that many would drown in, and yet Rose stared into his eyes, body naturally leaning towards him in a natural seeking of warmth and comfort. “What’s wrong? Why do you look sad?”

“Rose…” he said her name, well aware that his voice cracked.

If his sister had not been looking before, she was now. The despair spoken in his voice with that of the name of their Great Grand-Niece that fell from his lips had the power equivalent of standing in his gallery and calling her with her sigil. 

Dream did not dare take his eyes off Rose Walker. He couldn’t. Not now.

“It’s time, Rose,” Dream voiced. “Or, it will be. Very soon.”

“What?” the question came as both a hiss and plea, desperate and begging and angry at the same time. “What do you mean it will be ? What does that even mean?”

“I have… made a promise, to two of my sisters,” Dream informed Rose, so very grateful that Rose had not yet broken eye contact with him, drinking in every second he could. Memorizing every detail he could in his last moments. “To find the prodigal, and to mend relations. In order to complete this promise, I must go to the one person left who can help me in this task. My son.”

“Your son?” Rose was frowning, not quite comprehending what this meant. “You mean Orpheus? Your son with Calliope?”

“The very same,” Dream could only nod his head slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “He is the last oracle alive in this realm, and, as such, he will be able to help my sister and I locate the prodigal.”

“I don’t understand,” Rose was shaking her head desperately. “Why does finding the prodigal and your son mean that it’s time?”

“Because Orpheus has lived long,” Dream voiced the words he could never confess to himself, not truly. “He was a mortal, and unlike my friend, Hob Gadling, all my son has ever wanted was to be reunited with his lover. It is what led to his fate, his destiny, and as my sister gave him his gift, we must take it away. And, as such, I must kill him. That will be his price so that I may keep my promise to my sisters.”

Rose was wracking her brain now, breaking that precious eye contact as she paced the room. Dream watched her, longing to reach out and accept one of her hugs one last time, knowing he might not get that chance. He would Dream of the memory, though. Remember her last embrace as something so precious, nothing could ever take it from him, not even his fate. 

“So… so you have to kill you’re son,” Rose concluded. “But I don’t understand why this means that you would…”

Rose stopped herself. 

Their eyes locked once more.

“You couldn’t kill me,” Rose breathed in horror. “Because we share blood. Because I am a child of the Endless. And Orpheus is your son .”

“To spill the blood of the Endless means consequences,” Dream nodded, once more drinking in her gaze, despite how horror filled it was. “Especially for that of the Endless. “Should You Spill The Blood Of The Family, Harm Shall Befall You As Well.” That is our curse, Rose. By killing my son, I will break our most ancient law, and I must suffer the consequences.”

Gone was Rose’s gaze, there for him to study and memorize once more. Instead, Dream found her pressed into him, wrapped around him in the tightest embrace he had ever felt. So full of love, kindness. He did not deserve Rose Walker in his life, nor Jed Walker. Lyta Hall and Daniel Hall were also undeserved. But he had them, however brief, he had them. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Rose whimpered into his chest, so small and scared, like a child.

Like his son.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Rose, dear Rose. Thank you .”

He pulled away. His sister would not remain patient for long, and his son had been patient for far too long. Rose crumpled to the ground, sobbing and weeping into her hands. This, Dream thought, was perhaps the worst nightmare he could ever create.

So easy, it had been, to lie to himself in the past, to pretend he did not have any love for his partners in the past. His curse. His bane. His pain. 

Now, pulling away from his family, he would forever see this in his memory.

Leaving Rose in her room to mourn, Dream made his way to where Delirium was showing Jed funny fish and many strange things. Dream wasted no time pressing a lingering kiss to Jed’s forehead, allowing a tear to fall and land on the boy’s nose.

“Are you okay, Uncle Dream?” Jed asked, frowning at him.

“Yes, Jed, everything will be alright,” Dream promised the boy. “Come, my sister, we must go. Only a bit longer to our journey.”

The clock began to tick, the words in Destiny’s book began to set in place.

—------------------------------------

“Calliope…” Rose’s voice cracked through her sobs, phone to her ear as the woman finally answered the phone Hob had gotten for her. “Calliope… he’s gone. He’s gone to see his son.”

“What?” the horror in her voice.

Rose couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t stop shaking. This despair, this agony that overtook her. Her hand pressed to the shattered mirror at her knees, vaguely aware that there were footsteps racing into the house, that Jed had gone to get Lyta.

“Save him,”she begged the shattered remains of glass. “Save him.”

Nothing.

Rose keened as Lyta, Jed, and Carl burst into the room. Looking to Daniel, Rose could tell the toddler knew what was to come. Her heart went out to him, knowing he would never truly grow up.

Had it been enough time? Had they loved him enough to prepare him for the burden to come?

“Where is he now?” Calliope was demanding. “Did he leave?”

“He’s gone,” Rose sobbed, the despair crashing over her in ways as she voiced what she knew would soon be true. “He’s already gone, Calliope. He’s going to kill Orpheus and then he’ll die!”

“What do you mean?” Jed was asking, crouched by his sister, gripping her knees. “What do you mean? Rosie! What do you mean!? Who’s going to die!”

Rose locked eyes with Lyta, understanding passing between them. Tears gathered in Lyta’s eyes and she clenched her jaw, her fists, passing Daniel gently to Carl.

“I must hang up, Rose,” Calliope was saying. “I will call for aid.”

Calliope hung up, and Rose could not stop the tears as she sobbed and begged the broken glass to please do something. No answer came, and Rose knew it could not. Dream was bound by ancient rules, would need to follow those rules and traditions, and, as such, had walked right into a trap.

Rose did not doubt part of this fate was on purpose. She was not so foolish to believe that Dream of the Endless could not escape. But part of Morpheus, the dramatic-drama-queen-idiotic part of him had allowed himself to walk into that trap, and the other half, well, it came to accept that his time had come.

“I am tired, Rose Walker. So very tired.”

Rose was being selfish, now. She knew that. She wanted her Uncle to be here. To be safe. Alive. Well. 

Dream was tired.

Perhaps that was the part of him that had chosen this path he could have so easily avoided. But now… now she was not sure what to do.

“The Dreaming,” Lyta spoke up, cupping her son’s face, cutting through Rose’s own morbid thoughts. “My son, bring us to the Dreaming.”

Daniel seemed to honestly consider this, looking at Rose and Jed, looking to his mother. 

“Ya,” Daniel clapped his hand, launching sand into the air and causing each of them to suddenly collapse. ‘Dweamin!” 

Rose’s eyes snapped open, her body pressed to that of Fiddler’s Green. Heart pounding in her chest, she shoved herself to her feet, feeling the tense air Gilbert was giving off. Lyta was suddenly gripping her hand, tugging her towards the castle at a dead run. 

The Dreaming seemed to feel the tension and desperation of the guests that had arrived in it's realm. To the point that many of the dreams and nightmares were quick to follow the group of mortals to the castle, where Lucienne was waiting with Matthew in front of the doors under the guardians.

“What is it?” Lucienne demanded. “What’s happened?”

“No time!” Lyta snapped shoving past the librarian as they raced into the throne room.

Lyta veered left, in the direction that caused many of the dreams and nightmares to stutter in their steps. In the direction of Dream’s gallery. None had ever entered it before except the Lord of Dream’s himself, but Lyta didn’t care and neither did Rose, for that matter. They burst into the gallery, ignoring the protest of the others. 

“Who do we call?” Lyta questioned, eyeing the sigils. 

“He’s with Delirium, so not her,” Rose shook her head, the tears still having refused to stop falling, even in dreams. “I tried to get Despair’s attention, but she wouldn’t respond.”

“Your Gran, then?” Lyta tried.

“Their history is complicated,” Rose shook her head. “They won’t help, not without a favor, and I’m not sure we can pay that price.”

“Then who?” Lyta demanded, desperation rising in her voice. “Who, Rose? Who can we talk to?!”

Auntie Death seemed like the logical answer, but this family had never been logical, and Rose found her hands closing around the book, tugging it down from it’s place.

And they were in a maze, surrounded by statures of their family, all making such funny poses, and Dream…Dream’s face was buried in his hands, and Rose hated it. Hated what it meant. Wished to change it.

She blinked, and for a second, it did change.

“Why have you called to me?”

Rose did not face her Uncle. Not yet. Her gaze was still locked on the morbid image of her Uncle.

“You know that answer, Uncle Destiny,” she stated. “It is written in your book.”

“No, Rose Walker. It is not.”

Rose whipped around, staring at her Uncle with such… she wasn’t sure. There were so many things going through Rose’s mind, far too many emotions crashing around her. She wanted to scream, and rant and rave. She wanted to sob and beg and plead. She wanted her Uncle Dream back so she could hug him.

A true child of Desire, she supposed, a bit hysterically.

“How can you not know-?”

“I see all, Rose Walker,” Destiny stated. “All that is written. All that happens in a moment, and the moment depends on the now. I am chained to my book, or perhaps, my book is chained to me. I do not remember. I am blind, yet I must read its words. My brother’s fate is set in stone, and yet you stand before me and the words blur. Fate can be changed. Destiny can be rewritten through no power of my own. Some things have even been erased, Rose Walker.”

“What does that mean ?” Rose demanded.

Was it possible to steam through the five stages of grief? Rose wasn’t sure, but she jumped from Denial to Anger in a blink. Maybe it was simply because of how insufferable this family could be.

“Can I save him?” she demanded.

“I…” and Destiny paused. “I do not know, Rose Walker. I do not know.”

Sucking in a breath, Rose shut her eyes, reached deep inside her very soul, and woke up. For it had been a dream she had entered and a dream she would leave. Rose was no fool, and she knew the dream to have been real, but she had not truly met Destiny in his physical form. Only in the dream form he allowed himself to be seen in. 

“Rose,” Calliope breathed in relief, crouched by her bed. “You are alright?”

“Fine,” Rose groaned, feeling a migraine pounding her head with a jackhammer. “Annoyed, angry. Steamrolling through the five stages of grief.”

“Going to Destiny was foolish,” Calliope scolded, though there was no real heat. “That family does not always make the right choice.”

“Yeah, well, whatever choices they make, it’s clearly got some bad company,” a British voice, clipped and quipped, cut through the room. “I suggest you start those prayer, Ms. Muse. And hope the Fates are kind.”

Rose looked around the room, noting a man trapped in a circle similar to that of the one she had seen at the Burgess estate. A woman in a trench coat stood over it, glaring down at the being who seemed more peeved and annoyed than anything. Carl was passed out on the floor, and Hob Gadling held Daniel on his hip, his other arm wrapped around Jed as he frowned at the creature.

“Loki, god of Mischief,” Calliope hissed, “you have done enough harm to the realms, and unless you wish to suffer the eternal consequences of killing an Endless, I suggest you beg forgiveness of the seven.”

“His time has come, my dear,” Loki sneered, snickering and smirking. “Whether by my hand or the fates. Any minute now, his brat will die and I will claim this brat so he may be prepared for his coming. Oh, how good it will be to have an Endless under my thumb.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jed said, shaking his head, body shaking with rage. “Because Dream would save Daniel before that! He’d even remake the Corinthian just to save Daniel! I know it!”

“Not much time, love,” the new woman directed this to Calliope. “Whatever you and the Amazon have planned, I suggest you do it.”

Calliope nodded, once more glaring at Loki before sauntering into the main sitting room. Hob guided Jed and Daniel after her, motioning Rose to follow as the new woman began to chant something. Upon entering the sitting room, Rose found herself faced with more people. Matthew was perched in front of Lyta, who was on her knees, seeming to pray in front of a coffee table. Matthew only moved when Calliope took Lyta’s hands and began to join her prayer. To Rose’s further shock, Nuala also stood in her sitting room, wings flapping nervously, hands worrying.

“I heard him talk to Death,” Nuala told her when Rose approached. “I heard what they were discussing, and I got scared. Because the prodigal… he does not want to be found. We fairies know it would take an oracle, and I knew who that oracle was, so when you came crashing through the dreaming, I gathered some friends to help, and Lucienne sent Matthew with me. Can we truly save him?”

Rose swallowed. “I don’t know, Nuala. But I hope so.”

“Hey, Hope is the strongest thing in all the realms,” Matthew stated, flying onto Rose’s shoulder. “What can kill hope?”

Rose swallowed, desperately hoping she wouldn’t find out.

Lyta and Calliope suddenly sucked in a breath.

Then they were both gone.

—---------------------------------------------

“My son,” Calliope called gently into the temple, hands coming up to cup his face. “My son. Hello.”

“Hello, mother,” Orpheus greeted her, so worn and wary. Glad of her presence. “Have you come to say goodbye?”

“Yes, my son,” Calliope nodded, gently stroking his cheeks. “I am here to say goodbye.”

“Then please, do not cry, my mother,” Orpheus whispered the words. “For this is my choice.”

“Can I not convince you to change your mind?” Calliope asked.

“No.”

“Even about how you must die?” 

“How I must…” Orpheus puzzled for a moment, as puzzled as he could express when he was only a head to be puzzled. “Oh.”

He could not turn his head. Could not look to that which had approached him from behind. It was not threatening, but it was powerful. It meant him no harm, but promised relief. 

“My mother, why…?”

“For my love of you both, my son,” Calliope breathed, brushing hair from his face. “May you find Eurydice again in Hades, my son. May you find peace and respite from this eternal torment. But please, do not take your father with you.”

“You still love him? Truly?”

“Yes, my son,” Calliope whispered, intimate for only her son to hear. “As I love you. As I never stopped. I may have made poor choices with you both, refused to see you because of my own folly, but my son, my son, how I love you. Please, as I give you this gift, grant me one in return. Give us both peace one last time.”

Orpheus sucked in a breath as his mother pressed her forehead to his. 

“It shall be done, my mother,” Orpheus agreed. “He comes, now. Let me first release him from his promise, and I shall allow the Kindly Ones to grant me this gift. Thank you, my mother.”

Calliope and the Kindly Ones pulled away from Orpheus, allowing little Delirium to come in and bid him goodbye. Despite her hatred for her former lover’s family, Calliope found herself grateful for Delirium. She liked to think, that had Delirium still been Delight, had the youngest still had her wits about her, then the girl might have spared time to visit her son. A thought that gave her comfort as goodbyes were said.

Then Dream walked into the room, trying to hide his pain.

But he sensed the presence instantly.

“What is this?” he seethed, anger lacing him as he moved as if to protect his son. “Lyta? What have you done? And Calliope? What is this ?”

“Father, my father, I release you from your promise,” Orpheus spoke the words as Dream’s hand landed protectively in Orpheus’s hair, causing Dream’s head to snap towards his son at a blinding speed. “And I thank you for coming to see me one last time, my father.”

“No!” Dream cried, moving to cup his son’s face. “NO! Orpheus, what have you done?”

“What must be done,” Orpheus gave his father a smile, small yet genuine. “I love you, Father.”

Dream looked as if he wanted to fight this, his entire body trembling in pain as if this entire exchange physically hurt him. Perhaps it did. 

“And I love you, my son,” came from Dream’s lips, a promise and a truth all at once. “I love you dearly, my son.”

“I know, Father,” Orpheus confessed. “As I know that is why you waited so long for this day. I thank you for your willingness to grant it, though. Goodbye, Father. Mother.”

With that said, with words exchanged, the Kindly Ones removed Death’s seal on Orpheus and granted him the end he so craved. Like that, Orpheus was gone, and like that Dream found himself crumbling to the ground, weeping into his blood-free hands. 

And he mourned.

Lyta Hall and Calliope wrapped themselves around him, holding him together as he fell apart in their arms. His once lover and not-friend seeing him at his most vulnerable. And, for once, Dream did not care. 

The Dreaming would be in an upheaval, his emotions flying so wildly in the chaos of his heart, but here, in the moment, Dream took the time to grieve as Rose Walker had grieved him.

Rose!

“Lyta,” Dream turned to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her forehead. “Thank you, but the burden you have placed on yourself-”

“Is worth it,” Lyta said. 

“No,” Dream protested. “It is not. Which is why I have just given you my seal. No harm will come to you so long as you have it. And Calliope…”

“You need not say it, Oneiros,” Calliope whispered to him. “Do not say it until you are ready. Let us take you home, my love.”

“Please,” he whispered. Begged.

They stepped out of the temple, leaving clear instructions for the caretakers as to how to bury their son. They were greeted by Delirium and Despair, both who greeted the trio kindly, the latter with questions of the prodigal that Dream did his best to answer. 

And then, with the aid Dream’s power, they went home. Back to Rose’s apartment where many friends had gathered in their effort to save the King of Dreams. Dream sunk easily into Rose and Jed’s arms, the three crashing to their knees as they wept and cried in relief. Then it was a matter of greeting the others, of assuring them that everything was alright. 

By the sheer perseverance of Lyta Hall and Rose Walker, Dream would continue to live, and Daniel Hall would be able to grow up with his mother. Dream ultimately broke down so vulnerably at the realization that he was not yet fated to die. Despite the warnings, despite his own belief, he was not yet to die.

Daniel seemed smugly pleased about this fact, and Dream would think on that later.

For now, he was wrapped in the embrace of friends and family, of people who loved him and proved every belief he ever had about himself wrong. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Rose hissed at him, no real heat behind the words.

“I will do my best, Rose,” Dream whispered to her hair, not quite a promise, but as close as he could make it. “I will do my best.”

—-----------------------------------

Dream sat on his beach, his private place that few could enter. He had created it for a place that Rose and Jed could come, so they might have fond memories of the ocean and feel like they were close to home. But it had become his place.

A presence joined him. The only presence that could join him in this place without his permission.

The visitor was silent, watching both Dream and the skyline, the sound of the ocean washing over them both, and the mimicked sound seagulls that never showed their faces came from all around.

Finally, Dream could no longer bear the silence.

“You helped them.”

“Merely nudged,” the voice chuckled at the accusation. “The planning and scheming was all them. I just did as they asked of me.”

“Why?”

“Do you not know?”

No. No. Dream did not know. That was why he was asking. Obviously. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Dream turned to face the guest, locking eyes with his own face. Or, the face that was meant to become him. Though no longer did that appear to be the case, oddly enough. The face and it’s bearer simply seemed to choose the face as a reminder, as a shadow of what could have been, or what might yet still be to come.

“Why, Daniel?” Dream asked again.

“Perhaps my own selfish reasons,” Daniel moved to stand next to him. “Perhaps yours, too.”

Dream had no answer to that, turning his gaze back over the water, looking at the sunset in peace with Daniel beside him. The feeling of sand beneath their feet was a comfort, Dream because he had been without it for over a century, and Daniel because it meant he no longer had to await the burden his Lord carried. 

And, as if knowing Dream a little too well, Daniel gave Dream another gift by grasping the beings hand. For touch was another thing Dream had been denied in that century. One of many things. Food. Water. Air. His powers. Touch. 

Dream had longed for them all, and he had made this beach as a source for all of those cravings to be met. Though touch, he found, was only genuine when it came from real people. Like Rose. Like Jed. Like Daniel.

“Are you still tired, Dream of the Endless?”

Dream opened his mouth to answer. It had become so easy to say the words to Rose, to Lyta, to Lucienne, to Matthew. To admit that he was wary and tired. But here, on the beach with Daniel, those words did not come. Not as naturally as they usually did. Which surprised Dream, for creating stories and words were part of his natural being. Lyta had gained the habit of pointing out how bluntly words came to Dream, and of how bluntly he let them out. So it shocked him, for a moment, that the words did not come this time.

Was he truly still tired?

“No,” Dream voiced his answer. “No, I think not.”

And he meant it.

Chapter Text

For a moment, just a moment, though for some it could have been years, decades, centuries; the Universe held its breath. For on that day, Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, was meant to die. In fact, on that Sunday, the Dreaming itself waited to call forth those who must be called to come and mourn. 

A sort of somberness washed over everyone. In the Dreaming, in the waking, in all realms, many would claim that they were sad. Willingly, in fact. But not because the sadness was so great. No, it was because none of them could tell you why they were sad, and they truly hoped you would hold that answer. 

It was such a peculiar feeling, the waiting and the sadness. So puzzling, it was, that even those of great power, who considered themselves above such feeling, felt it wrap around them.

On that day, the Dream King let his people mourn around him, for he, himself, had once accepted his face, and that acceptance was not so easily shaken. Surrounding him in his throne room were those he treasured most. 

Rose Walker, Jed Walker, Lyta Hall, Daniel Hall, Hob Gadling, Matthew, and Lucienne. Even the essence of Fiddler’s Green was beside the king, wrapped around his master’s arm as a flower. Outside the gates of the castle, dreamers, dreams, and nightmares alike gathered together outside under the wyvern, hippogriff, and griffin, where they bid no one else enter. 

When Death walked into the throne room from the direction of the gallery, no words were exchanged. She simply sat beside her brother, refusing to touch him. 

Waiting.

Watching.

The universe and the realms all seemed to wait, all holding its collective breath as they watched. 

The moment, however, ended, with one word.

A simple word. 

Said wrong, of course, as only babies and toddlers can. 

The universe, in a moment, could breath again.

“DWEAM!” Daniel was clapping and giggling as he felt his burden pass them both by. “DWEAM! DWEAM!”

It was a stupid word. His name. Dream so did prefer his titles through the decades. Even now, the name he gave others was Morpheus. A title he earned. A title he fashioned for himself in the dreams of mortals.

Yet in that moment, as his burden passed them both, Dream found that his name, gifted to him by his birth, was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his long, endless existence. 

So he grabbed Daniel around the waist and tossed the child into the air, catching him with delicate hands as Daniel squealed in delight.

“DWEAM! DWEAM!”

“Yes, Daniel,” Dream pressed his forehead to Daniel’s. “I am Dream, and you are Daniel. You may live your lifetime as Daniel Hall, little one.”

“DWEAM!”

In the throne room, everyone was rushing forward, wrapping Dream up in the tightest embrace possible as they crashed to the floor in laughter and tears of delight. Even Death wrapped her brother in her arms, faced buried in his stupidly messy hair, relieved that she would not need to guide him away just yet. For even Death mourned when they lost Despair, and she dread saying goodbye to another sibling. But now, her brother was alive, and the need to mourn had passed. 

As those gathered in the throne room sang and laughed their joy and relief at the moment having passed them by, of Dream of the Endless meant to continue his eternal existence as was, Fiddler’s Green burst into the most brilliant and vibrate color imaginable. Anyone who happened into Fiddler’s Green at the time in their dreams would claim the light was bright, but not blinding. Some even claimed the waterfalls and wind sang to them in great joy, telling a tale of a family that loved so much, it saved their lives.

It was a beautiful tale, poem, song. One that traveled through the realms, reaching the ears of many who heard, and that joy seemed to spread among many dreamers. Some even went so far as to hum the strange tune in the waking hours. 

Of course, as all Dreamers do, they must wake, and when Rose, Jed, Hob, Lyta, and Daniel had returned to the waking, and Lucienne and Matthew had gone to join the celebration, it was just Dream and Death left.

“It might still happen,” Dream voiced the words that still haunted him. “My time might still come.”

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t,” Death agreed with her brother. “That’s something even we can’t know. But, when the time does come, if it comes, then I think things will be better for it.”

“You have always been the optimist, my sister,” Dream hummed.

“And you the pessimist,” Death grinned back at him, wrapping her brother in a hug she learned he so desperately needed. “Go enjoy your party. Stop dwelling on the inevitable. Live your life.”

“Of course, my sister,” Dream smiled to her. “Will you join me?”

“No. Bit too busy for that,” Death hummed. “Save me some cake, though.”

“I shall.”

The celebration would last for many many weeks, after all, before Dream would insist that they must return to work. The sheer joy of everything had disturbed how people dreamed, and mortals needed their nightmares as much as they needed their dreams, after all. He was meant to serve the mortals, as his sister had reminded him.

He was Endless, and he had a job to do. 

But even his dreams and nightmares would note that their Master was far happier, lighter. As if a burden had been taken from him. 

Happier times.

—--------------------------------------

Four family dinners in less than a year. Dream was half-tempted to believe the apocalypse was happening all over again as he sat a plate of cake in front of his older sister, as requested.

She pecked his cheek before digging in to her slice, an action the rest of her siblings mimicked.

“Do you think piggables will eat cake?” Delirium asked Barnabas.

“I dunno,” the dog shook his head, licking frosting from his nose. “I’ll eat their cake if they don’t want it, though.”

“I want a sausage, ham, and bacon cake,” Delirium declared to the table.

“Ham and bacon are practically the same thing, little sister,” Desire hummed before slowly savoring the cake on their tongue. 

“Nuh uh,” Delirium stuck out her tongue. “I’ll show you!”

“Calm yourself, my sister,” Destiny read before Delirium could dash off. “I must admit, the nature of this meeting puzzles me. Why did you wish this, my brother?”

“You say it puzzles you, my older brother, but I believe you already know,” Dream said, almost an accusation. 

Destiny said nothing.

“Well the rest of us don’t know, my brother,” Desire cooed, tempting Dream to speak. “Why are we here? Have you called us to join in your little celebration?”

“No, my sibling,” Dream moved to cup their face. “I am here because I wish to be. Can you not tell?”

“You wish to be, Sweet Dream?” Despair asked of him, drawing his attention.

“Yes, little sister,” Dream hummed to her. “Perhaps that makes me selfish. But allow me this. Just a moment, if you could. Even if it is simply to share a slice of cake.”

“I think we can spare a moment,” Death said. “Thank you, Dream.”

Destiny could only see the present moment, yet as he was born of time, the present moment was what it needed to be. He read his book, noting how his brother’s fate had rewritten itself. Changed its path. The pages changed. The present became something else. 

Destiny read the words and understood.

And he mourned as his siblings smiled.

—--------------------------

Robert Gadling was a strange sort of English Professor. He had a right hatred for anything and everything Shakespeare, and getting the man on a tangent was quite easy. He loved to go out for drinks with friends and wax poetry and sonnets and tales with his fellow professors. Give the man a history book, and he would tell you everything wrong with the history within, starting with the 1300’s and moving onwards. He even had facts and artifacts to back up some of his claims, which always intrigued many of his students. 

Robert Gadling was a strange sort of English Professor who had only ever been to the White Horse Inn once, but upon learning it was condemned, bought the property next to it and opened a “New Inn”. Not very creative for an English Teacher, but when his students would point this out, he would laugh and claim it was a joke for an old friend. His students could never figure out what that joke was. 

Robert Gadling was a strange sort of English Professor who looked quite sad when he thought no one was looking. And quite old. As if his strange knowledge came from living many centuries. In fact, his students often theorized he was an immortal, maybe a vampire. Though the latter was often dispelled by the fact that Robert Gadling loved to galavant in the sun. Some would even compare him to Keanu Reeves, to which Professor Gadling would always get a kick out of such claims.

Robert Gadling was a strange sort of English Professor, and he only got stranger roughly a year ago.

Despite the horrid name Robert Gadling gave his “New Inn”, it did have remarkable alcohol and food, and the Professor, himself, was always welcome to be a helping hand to his students. Even a shoulder to cry on at times. He was a therapist, to many, and, as such, it wasn’t too far off to see many of his students, past and present, at his “New Inn”.

So, naturally, a few happened to be getting a drink or doing homework, or gossiping when it happened. Professor Gadling was at his usual table in the Inn, grading papers as always, when a tall man, clad in all black with hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, suddenly walked in and stopped before Professor Gadling.

And Professor Gadling had looked to the stranger and broke into the widest grin.

“You’re late,” he told the odd stranger.

“My apologies,” the stranger had said back, an amused, pleased, relieved grin on his face that matched that of Professor Gadling. “I have always heard it is impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

That was the day Professor Gadling seemed to change. There was a giddiness to him, a spring to his step. A lightness that hadn’t been there before.

The stranger did not show up again. Not till a few months later.

Missy Chambers and Annika Vaughn were first to witness the stranger that matched the rumors description when said man walked into the Inn one fine afternoon with a girl drenched in water tucked into his side. She looked dazed, and not the sort of drugged dazed. But it was cause for concern, so the two girls watched and listened as their Professor’s stranger talked to the bartender, who was obviously concerned and on edge by the state of the girl.

But then the girl seemed to wake up at the blatant accusation coming from the bartender, and both girls were startled to watch life frantically slam back into the young girl as explained that this was her uncle, something about her mother being adopted, and something about being scared and traumatized and calling the stranger to her.

Not drugged, the two girls concluded as she easily gripped her Uncle’s long coat in a vice, leaning towards the taller man. And the key emphasis was on lean not sway . The girl was sober, and if the two girls had to guess, she had nearly drowned. 

The stranger only gripped the girl tighter, both actions appearing to be subconscious. And Missy would attest this later, being a psych major and all, she obviously knew these things. The two were worried about the other, neither willing to let go. 

Missy and Annika watched the two climb the stairs and that was that.

While the girl was seen many times afterwards, often chatting with Professor Gadling and another strange woman, the stranger that had made Professor Gadling smile did not emerge again. A few of Professor Gadling’s favorite students eventually inquired about the stranger, but Professor Gadling brushed them off, claiming his friend had things he had to see to.

It was all quite strange to the students of Professor Gadling, but other than rumors, there wasn’t much anyone could make of the situation. It was hard to catch Professor Gadling with his stranger, as his students came to learn.

But there were moments when it occurred, when someone would spot the stranger.

“What if I cannot be what they need, Hob?”

“Well, I think that’s half the joy of parenting,” Hob chuckled to his friend as they occupied a nearby park bench. “And I know you’re not their parent, old friend, but you’re as good as. Even as ancient as I am, I still wish I could turn to my mum, sometimes. For a hug or the like. She wasn’t the best woman, was rather disappointed in me, but the attachment you have to a parent is… different.”

The stranger was silent for a moment.

“I’ve never been good with… attachments,” Dream confessed. “My own son…”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Professor Gadling put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know what it’s like to lose a son, remember? To feel as if you failed?”

“There was nothing you could have done for your son, Hob Gadling,” the stranger returned the gesture. “It was his time. But my son… I could have done something. Should have done more…”

“How many times did you go to him?”

“Twice.”

“And your siblings tried to dissuade him, as well?”

“Yes.”

“Your son was as stubborn headed as mine,” Professor Gadling chuckled. “Perhaps that was a perk of our parenting, or perhaps a curse. I’d say our sons got our stubbornness from us. Though I wouldn’t put it past your son to get some of it from Calliope.”

The stranger hummed, but said nothing.

“Listen, the point is, our sons made their choices, despite our warnings,” Professor Gadling sighed. “Despite our attempts to stop them, we cannot shield them forever. Children have a bad habit of being bull-headed when they leave the nest, and that often results in consequences. In the end, our sons made grave mistakes, and as a result, we have all eternity to blame ourselves and worry.”

“What is the point of this, Hob?” the stranger seethed, the danger coming into his voice, causing the many evesdroppers to flinch, including a nearby Raven.

However, Professor Gadling was not disturbed by this behavior.

“The point is, Rose and Jed are going to make their own choices someday, Morpheus,” Professor Gadling sighed. “Just as each one of my students will do the same. Even little Daniel will grow up and make those choices that have us all raving and angry and worried. But we have to let them grow up. And they may shove us away, and we may feel the need to obey their wishes, but I think we’ve both learned how much of a fool's errand that is. We must let them grow, but we must also be waiting. Arms open to accept them back, even when they seem to hate us and turn us away.”

The stranger was quiet for a moment, his shoulders sagging, something in his entire body drooping. “You believe Jed does not truly hate me.”

“Truly the drama queen, my friend,” Professor Gadling chuckled, much to the annoyed glare of his mysterious friend. “No, the boy doesn’t hate you. He adores you. Perhaps he’s angry at you for the moment, but he’s a child. Give him time, don’t shut him out. If you truly care for him as I know you do, then things will right themselves with time. Just… wait.”

“Wait…” the stranger hummed. “Waiting is something I’m used too.”

“Don’t go spiraling on me, now,” Professor Gadlign chided, though there was no heat to it. In fact, their favorite Professor seemed worried. “The boy isn’t like us, and he certainly doesn’t hold grudges for long. Give it time, old friend. Just give it time.”

“Yes… I… suppose I will,” the stranger agreed, sitting up straighter and adjusting his jacket. “Thank you, Hob Gadling. This was what I needed, I think. Truly, I thank you for this.”

“Anytime old friend,” Professor Gadling smiled, warm and content. Relieved, too. “Though you know you could stop by for more than just your problems, right?”

“I know,” the stranger smiled kindly to Professor Gadling as he stood. “I’ll see you in three nights, my friend.”

“Three nigh-? Hang on! Did Calliope really invite you to dinner? Are you actually going to be there?”

“Three nights,” the stranger called back, chuckling to himself as he turned a corner and seemed to vanish.

Professor Gadling was left to stare after him in giddy disbelief, and his eavesdropping students were left to puzzle over the exchange.

Three nights later, Professor Robert Gadling had a private birthday party. Only a few people were in attendance, but from the way Professor Gadling had taught his class the next day, it had clearly been the best day of his life.

Missy and Annika were rather excited to point out the visiting girl at the Inn who had been with the stranger all that time ago.

—------------------------------------

“What is it you require this time, my son?”

“This time? Nothing. Simply an offering from my realm.”

“A favor then. Though why you would attempt to give me something that is mine-”

“No,” Dream shook his head as he watched his father age but not age at all. “I asked of you, once if a son could not see his father with no other motive than to wish him well. As you recall, you called me out for my foolish pleasantries, and reminded me that Destiny came often for such reasons, and that I do not. Much has happened, my father. And for once, I am here to wish you well and simply be here in your presence.”

His father watched him for a moment, studied the man before him. Aging and deaging. 

It was unnerving, but Dream found that even if this was the last time he spoke to his father, it would have been worth it. To simply be in his father’s presence in this moment was enough.

It had to be enough for it may be all he would get.

“Alright then,” his father took the cake, immediately taking a bite and waving Dream further into his realm. “Come sit, my son. I would like to hear of your life. Your brother has informed me you have grown rather attached to a few mortals.”

“Yes,” Dream smiled, following his father further into the realm. “Rose and Jed Walker. You’re great great grand-children, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Not mine, father,” Dream shook his head. “I have not had any children of my own since Oprheus. No, these are Desire’s great grand-children. But Rose Walker was a Dream Vortex.”

“I see. And have you killed her.”

“No. Shall we sit, my father, there is much to tell you. Though I am sure you know, already.”

“Of course, my son, but you always did have a way with stories. So tell me a tale, my son.”

Dream smiled as he began his tale.

—------------------------------

“Look at her,” Death cooed at the little girl as she stood beside Rose. “Oh, isn’t she precious.”

“Auntie Death?” Rose questioned groggily, as the doctors shuffled out of the room to allow Rose some rest, unaware of her guest. “What are you-?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not here to claim her,” Death waved off, still hovering over the newborn baby. “Oh, she’s precious. May I?”

Rose gave her Aunt a tired smile, nodding her permission.

Death, with the utmost care that only she could give, picked up her great great grand-niece. The baby giggled and babbled happily at the action, though still small, she clearly found comfort with the woman.

“Oh, you are stunning,” Death cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Welcome to life, young one. I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll see me around a bit more than most mortals.”

“Most mortals?” Rose hummed.

“Oh, yes,” Death grinned to Rose. “You see, it may be my job to guide all life to the Sunless Lands, but I also greet them when they come into this realm. That’s why, when I come to guide a life, they recognize me. Mortals normally only meet me but twice in their entire lifetime. But this little one will get to see me around just a bit more when I happen to be nearby.”

“I’d like that,” Rose hummed. 

“Does she have a name?” Death asked.

“I was… hoping you or Uncle Dream could name her,” Rose confessed, “like Uncle Dream named Daniel.”

Death turned to look at Rose, then to where her brother had appeared in the room. Something crossed their faces, a silent conversation that only siblings could have. Rose waited as patiently as she could.

“I did not name Daniel, Rose,” Dream corrected her. “Daniel, as my heir, already had a name, and he refused to allow any other name to become his until someone spoke the name he chose. I just happened to understand him.”

“So… has she chosen a name?” Rose asked, looking to her daughter.

Death and Dream turned to the baby girl, Death kindly giving her over to Dream. He rocked the baby for a bit in his arms, pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead. He let the edges of the dreaming pull around her, allowing the child to search for a name of her own. It was a gift he could grant, but never truly did offer. For Rose, for the baby, however…

“Ivy,” he said as the name came to them both. “Ivy Walker.”

“Ivy,” Rose beamed as brightly as she could with such exhaustion in her bones. “My little Ivy.”

Dream placed the girl in Rose’s arms. Mother and daughter smiled back at each other while Death and Dream watched. And that night, as mother and daughter went to sleep, the dreaming was there to welcome them both. 

“You realize there will now be two tiny troublemakers running around the dreaming, right?” Matthew chirped around his snickering as they watched Daniel and Ivy quickly become fast friends. “You’ll have your hands full.”

“Unless, of course, I demote a few souls to permanent babysitters,” Dream stated flatly.

“You’re kidding, right boss? Boss? Lucienne, he’s kidding right? Boss? Lucienne?”

—------------------------------------

“Hello, Dusk.”

“Dream, you foolish boy, what have you done now?”

“This time, nothing,” Dream said, offering one of two plates to his mother’s companion. “I came to visit. Would you like cake, Dusk?”

Dusk hesitated a moment, but eventually accepting the offering.

“You know she likes her privacy, Dream.”

“I know,” Dream nodded. “I suppose I should have called. But after my last meeting, I feared she would turn me away.”

Dusk puzzled that, no memory of those events, but allowed him entrance. Dream noted she seemed to be enjoying the cake, to which he was glad.

“My son,” Night greeted him, eyes narrowing. “What brings you to me?”

“For once, mother, nothing so drastic as before,” he told her, holding the second plate up in surrender. “I brought you a slice of cake, and wish to apologize for my behavior before. And to apologize for my inability to visit.”

His mother eyed him, glare shinning like stars, much as his own. She took the plate as the peace offering it was and began to eat.

“I suppose I can’t convince you to stay?”

“I am sorry, mother,” Dream shook his head. “But I cannot. I have seen what will happen to my realm should I chose to leave, have seen the chaos that could bring to the mortal world. Where you and father live to bring life to mortals, I am more their servant. The mortals need me as much as I need them. Perhaps one day I will be able to take your offer, but for now, perhaps I may visit more?”

His mother contemplated this. “I would not be opposed to this. But tell me, my son, what has brought this about?”

“May I tell you a story, mother? It is a kind one.”

“My sweet prince of stories, I would be glad to hear your tale.”

And Dream let himself bask in his mother’s presence as he retold his tale.

—------------------------------

“Why are we here, my sibling?” Dream asked, so utterly exhausted by the last few weeks. And not the bone-weary tired that used to haunt him. Just the general tired that came with running after two hyperactive dreaming babies who couldn’t sit still or listen to instructions. “If it is my attention you want-”

“Not your attention this time, brother dear,” Desire cooed, patting Dream’s cheek with a clear fondness. “You’re absolutely no fun when you’re like this. No, I’ve brought you both here because I believe you’ll be interested in this little development.”

Calliope and Dream were on civil, friendly terms. They still held such a deep love for each other, but they both agreed that there was too much between them for them to act on it. But they were civil. Hob would call them friends. And idiots.

But that didn’t explain why Desire had been so insistent they come with them.

“Look there,” Desire motioned forward with a flourish of their hand. “That cot right there.”

Dream moved forward first, guarding Calliope from whatever trick this good be. Desire could be kind, but they could easily turn their opinion as they desired , and that was not something Calliope needed to be caught in the crosshairs of. 

The hospital maternity ward that Desire had brought them too was full with newborn babies. Some sleeping. Others crying. Dream found this his own personal sort of torture after everything he had endured at the cries of Daniel and Ivy, but he approached the cot as Desire instructed.

His breathing hitched.

In the cot was a child, red hair, familiar, just as the soul inside of it was also familiar. Dream could feel it from the Dreams of the sleeping child. In the cot beside the baby boy was a baby girl, one whose soul was also familiar.

“He was born a few months early,” Desire spoke from behind Dream and Calliope where the two were captivated by the two babies that were turned towards each other. “Pre-mature, they say. He’ll be going home soon. The girl was born just this morning. Took her a bit of time to catch up.”

Dream blinked back tears. For this… this was a gift… one he had never dreamed of having.

“How did you…?”

“I am Desire, darling,” they cooed to Calliope. “This young, they remember each other. And when they grow older, I believe they’ll find each other again. She’s been waiting for him, after all.”

Orpheus and Euridyce lay slumbering peacefully in their cots. Alive. And those were not quite their names anymore, but some ancient line of family linked back to the Endless had permitted Orpheus' return, and Euridyce had begged, centuries ago, to return to her lover, cursed to walk the Earth and look for him as he lived hidden away, living many incomplete lives without him.

Now they were reunited, and Desire had given the once couple the best gift either could ever receive. 

The baby woke and looked to them. A grin burst on his face as it spoke in that language only babies could truly speak. 

It was a word, however, that Dream never dreamed he would hear again.

Patér.

After the former lovers cooed the child back to sleep, they left, Desire leading the way. The two lovers bid each other goodbye, promising to talk when they had time to process.

“Thank you, my sibling,” Dream told Desire as they walked the streets of London. “ Thank you .”

“It’ll cost you,” Desire hummed.

“For this, my sibling, name your price,” Dream stated.

Desire chose that moment to drop their smug grin and actually look to their older brother. Dream had not stopped crying. Inside him, their brother desired to hold their son again. Yet Desire could tell that just knowing Orpheus was to live a full life once more was enough. 

It was enough.

Linking arms with their brother, Desire rested their head on his shoulder. Dream did not pull away from the touch, as Desire knew he would not. Their great grand-children had trained her brother well, and the captivity had certainly eased his thoughts on touch.

“I think I’ll keep it an IOU for now, sweet Dream,” Desire whispered into Dream’s ear. “But we shall see what I can cook up for you next.”

Dream leaned his head against Desire’s. “I suppose I’ll deserve it by then.”

“You always do, Sweet Dream. You always do.”

Chapter Text

To put it bluntly, as bluntly as one could, Dream of the Endless was a depressed anthropomorphic personification of a being with slight suicidal tendencies. It was obvious to the mortals he dedicated his time to. The events and tales of his life had truly put Dream in a mental space that left him teetering on a dangerous edge of existence. 

One that left him tired. And wary. 

However, to his subjects and his siblings, the concept of one as powerful as the Endless being in such a mental state was an impossibility. Or, it simply wasn’t a concept any of them ever considered a possibility.

Sure, the Endless knew the mental state of humans well. Destiny had read about it several times over. Death had witnessed the aftermath. Desire had tempted those thoughts in whatever way pleased them. Despair found them filling her realm. Delirium often had a slight touch to such mental states.

And, naturally, the dreams and nightmares knew well the types of creations that could come from such cases of ASD and PTSD. 

They knew it well. 

It was not something any of them thought could touch an Endless.

So, when, three months, two weeks, four days, thirteen hours, twenty seven minutes, and eight seconds had passed and Dream’s sigil remained black, and he had not come back from the darkest, deepest part of the dreaming, the residents of the Dreaming were in the utmost panic, causing the dreams of mortals to be panicked and frantic in a way that compared to the time Dream was captured. And the Endless siblings were suddenly quite worried.

“What exactly did you do?” Death stared down the twins, arms crossed, and a subtle fury threatening to mar her normally pleasant personality.

“For once?” Desire hummed, not at all able to keep the worry from their voice, “nothing, my sister. Whatever has happened to cause our brother to retreat this far into his realm are unknown to me. I can sense no Desire from him.”

“But what is odd, my twin and my sister, is that I can feel something from within the Dreaming that should be in my realm, but I cannot find its presence anywhere,” Despair hummed, intrigued by the locked door before them. “He is hiding from me, I would guess. But why, I do not have an answer.”

Death turned her ire away from the twins, accepting their answer with ease as she worriedly pressed a hand to the door. A door that refused to budge at her touch. For any of them.

When Matthew had frantically come to them, begging their aid, the Endless had already begun to grow worried. So worried, in fact, that even Destiny had arrived, though he was beyond helpless as his book gave him no answer. Truly, Dream had discovered whatever Destruction had done to remain hidden from his book, and he was now locked deep within the Dreaming. A fact that was beginning to scare the Endless siblings as the hours passed, and the seconds brought nothing. 

“Should we call mother and father, perhaps?” Despair turned to their oldest brother.

“I know not, my sister,” Destiny confessed, unnerved by it all. “I have no answer to give.”

They had been trying to get through, but nothing they did managed to reach Dream, only the vague feelings Despair picked up came from such darkness. 

“Oh, Dream,” Death whispered to the door, pressing her head to it. “Please, my brother, tell me what ails you? Why do you hide from us?”

However, Death’s moment of pleading was interrupted by a body slamming forcefully against the door, causing the entire thing to shutter. Jumping back, Death found herself staring wide eyed at Hob Gadling, who was now taking steps back from the door, a righteous glower on his face.

“You. Stupid. Idiotic. Fool!” Hob ground out, slamming his body once more against the door, causing it to shutter with the force once more. “You think you can just lock yourself away!? HUH!? If you think I’m going to let you sit there and mope, you’ve got another thing coming, my friend!”

And he threw himself against the door once more. Though, this time, he was joined by the bodies of Rose, Jed, and Lyta. The latter, of which, had plopped Daniel and Ivy in Death’s arms. 

“OPEN THIS STUPID DOOR, MORPHEUS!” Lyta bellowed out to the darkness beyond. “YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

“You promised!” Jed’s voice cracked as he called desperately to his Uncle. “You promised, Uncle Dream! You’d let us go through our nightmares together! Remember!? You promised!”

“Open. The. Dang. Door!” Rose hissed.

And there were… others. Other souls of dreamers who came forward to slam against the door in an effort to shove it open. Calliope, Johanna, Barbie, Hal, Zelda and Chantel. Oddly enough, a few cats came to the aid of the humans, all shoving at the door and meowing loudly. Several of the Dreams and Nightmares deemed that the dreamers must have the correct idea for they all lunged forward to do the same. 

Eventually, with the combined efforts, the door slammed open. 

Led by Hob Gadling, the growing group rushed down the stairs through sheer darkness. Many, however, had to stop as the darkness became all encompassing and even threatening. But a few shoved forward. 

Hob, Rose, Jed, Lyta, Lucienne, Matthew. The Endless remained close behind, even as others pulled back, unable to face the guards that meant to keep others out. 

At the bottom of the seemingly never ending stairs was a door of metal bars, to which Hob gladly kicked the thing down. 

Immediately, the group found themselves drowning in water. But the persistent group regained their bearings, slapping away the nightmares that beckoned them from the darkness, all swimming their way to the single source of light in the never ending expanse of water. A small, thin strip of floor greeted them, and on that thin strip of concrete was a glass sphere, welded together by metal.

The light, it seemed, was from a singular source inside the sphere.

Dream of the Endless.

He was naked, curled into a ball, not looking at the many people as they came to surround his cage. To their horror, his siblings found they could not pass through the yellow circle in the floor. Even Lucienne and Matthew found themselves held back. But the mortals, even Rose and Jed, had no problem stepping through and pressing their hands to the glass.

“Don’t bang on it,” Rose told the others quickly. “Burgess used to do that to him.”

“Uncle Dream,” Jed’s voice was soft, calling gently to the man. “Can you hear me Uncle Dream?”

“Morpheus, my friend, we are here,” Hob offered so gently, crouching outside the sphere to try and catch Dream’s vacant stare. “We are here, my friend. We are here. Can you look at me?”

“Hob,” the voice of Dream croaked, worn as if it had not been used in over a century. “Jed. I… I know you.”

“You do,” Hob agreed, giving Dream a smile, still trying to catch his eye. “And we are here, my friend. Please. Can you look at me?”

Dream lifted his eyes, clouded and pained, though his face held more emotion than he had ever truly displayed before. So much emotion, in fact, that it was impossible to truly tell them all. 

“You are here,” Dream whispered, voice devoid of those emotions. “Why are you here?”

Hob scoffed, playfully, not daring to drop Dream’s gaze. “Do you truly believe that, had I known of what Burgess had done, that I would have left you there?”

Dream did not answer, but there were tears.

“I refused to believe you stood me up, my friend,” Hob breathed the words, pressing his hands to the glass. “I tried for years to buy the White Horse, but was only able to make the company who bought it to go bankrupt, and when that didn’t work, I created the New Inn where we could continue to meet, my friend. I refused to believe you stood me up, and now I know I was right. If I had known, my friend, I would have come for you.”

“I would not wish that on you,” Dream protested, frantically, terrified. “They would hurt you. Kill you.”

A bang rang from nowhere and everywhere at once. Blood splattered on the glass, causing everyone to yelp and gape. Dream, himself, looked so utterly devastated at the sight that he allowed the tears to flow freely, his gaze once more dropping.

The room was silent, all staring at the blood. A rescue attempt gone so terribly wrong.

“Nightmares help us overcome what horrors we have faced in the waking, right?” Rose spoke up, so softly and gently. “That’s why Jed had to keep going through his nightmares of the basement. Why I had my nightmares of you. Remember? That’s what you told me. But do you remember what else you told me?”

Tearful, galaxy filled eyes traveled to look at Rose. The Stars were dying out.

“You told me I didn’t need to overcome my nightmares alone,” Rose whispered, pressing her forehead to the glass beside her hands. “This is your nightmare, Uncle Dream. And you don’t have to conquer it alone. Let us help you . Please.”

“I cannot ask that of you.”

“What are friends and family for if not to ask,” Lyta said, drawing Dream’s gaze to her. “Have you learned nothing from us, Dream? We don’t require anything from you. Just your time. Your presence. That’s enough. But we’re your friends. Your family. And that means we are here for you. In the good and bad, Dream. We are here. Allow yourself to be vulnerable with us, Dream. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Let us carry you through this pain.”

“Why?”

“Because we love you,” Jed said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the known universes. “What other reason do we need?”

Dream seemed to process this for a moment, unsure how to react and move forward. But he sucked in a breath after a moment, and then the sphere was gone as he closed his eyes. No longer were they in the darkness, but they now stood in the throne room. Dream found himself falling forward, but he did not hit the floor. Several pairs of arms wrapped around him. 

“We’re here, Uncle Dream,” were the words Jed whispered. “And we love you.”

Dream sucked in another breath, refusing to open his eyes as his body trembled. But that was okay. He was being held together. The doors were shut, only those he needed were in the room, and he allowed himself to be vulnerable in their arms. 

And he wept. He wailed. He mourned.

For where else could he do so but with them. 

With his mortals. With his siblings. 

And so wrapped around him they were, Dream let himself be hidden in their love and warmth. 

“I love you,” he told them all. All at once, then later, he repeated them to each person individually. “I love you.”

How strong those words are. 

I love you.

—-----------------------------------------

Dream blinked, shocked by the sudden appearance of arms around him. 

Not that hugs were rare in Dream’s life. Quite the contrary. He got them so often now that they were like a second skin. Not unwelcome. Not unpleasant. In fact, Dream often craved someone’s embrace to remind him he was no longer naked and trapped in glass. Whether it be his friends or his family that offered the embrace did not matter to him. Something he had been told might be unhealthy, and whispers of Thessaly often passed amongst the dreaming as such an example. 

But what had startled Dream about this embrace was not that of the hug itself, but who was giving him said hug. 

Regardless, Dream melted into the embrace, only vaguely wondering if this was a case similar to that of Thessaly, but not entirely caring about the implication. This embrace, Dream found, was one he had long desired, and especially so when he had first met the man again. 

Never did Dream think he would actually get it.

“My brother…” Dream whispered, content in the embrace. 

Destruction began to pull back, much to Dream’s disappointment, but the man hardly went far. He simply adjusted his grip on Dream so that he could better look at Dream.

“You look tired, Dream,” Destruction hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“I am, Destruction,” Dream confessed to his brother. “There are… many times when I find myself tired.”

Destruction hummed, once more encompassing Dream in an embrace he so desperately longed for.

“My brother,” Dream whispered. “Why now?”

“I was not going to come,” Destruction admitted, as the two brothers moved to sit on the steps of the throne room. “When your sigil went dark, I was worried. Especially so shortly after our talk. Did some investigating and discovered Orpheus was dead. Connected some dots here and there, and… tell me, Dream. Have you talked to anyone? Of this?”

Dream of the past would have been confused but haughty, claiming he need not speak to anyone. But the Dream of now, who had a Great Grand-Niece and Nephew who loved and adored him. A friend who fought for him. And a friend who killed for him. That had changed Dream of the Endless. Drastically.

“I do, yes,” Dream told Destruction. “I have friends now. Family that is there for me. They wish to meet you, my brother. But they have been there for me. I have been able to break down. To be vulnerable with them.”

“I am glad of that,” Destruction nudged Dream. “I should have come as soon as your sigil went dark. I am sorry for that.”

“You need not apologize, little brother,” Dream scolded his brother. “I understand you, now. Perhaps not in the same way, but I understand. Sometimes I wish I could step away.”

“You could.”

“No. I could not, my brother,” Dream shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to my realm. Even if not by choice, I have seen what might happen.”

“Your mind is made up, then?”

“I fear so.”

It was quiet between them. The two brothers sat in the throne room, wrapped in the other’s embrace. No other words were exchanged between them. There was no need for there to be anything said between them. 

Not this time.

There would be some time before there was a need to speak to each other once more, and by that time, Dream would be different.

For now, they just needed the other.

—-----------------------------

Rose’s wedding day came as a day of sort of dread for Dream. She had asked him to be the one to walk her down the aisle, something that stunned him. When he approached Desire about the request, wishing no ill will between them, Desire had waved Dream off.

“Sweet Dream, what do you think would happen if I walked that girl to her future husband in a church?” Desire laughed as if the notion was the funniest thing ever spoken. “Not a single eye would be on her, my dear, and this is her special day, after all. No, sweet Dream, I suggested you be the one to do it.”

Desire… had a point. The siblings had all agreed that, while they would attend, they would remain in the background. Orpheus’ wedding still haunted Dream, they could see. His nerves put the entire Dreaming on edge, and, as such, they were all walking on eggshells. 

Then, the day came. 

“Who is it that gives Rose Walker away,” the priest asked.

Dream turned to Rose, offering her a fond smile and kissing her forehead through the veil. “I, her Uncle Dream, give her away.”

And then he placed her hand into that of the man who would be her husband and allowed himself to drift beside his sister. Death, kindly, gripped his hand and gave it a squeeze. 

Dream stayed for the procession, keeping Daniel and Ivy company as the many guests danced and partied at the reception. His siblings had long since gone when Lyta came to sit beside him, tearing off her heels with a tired but giddy smile.

She was definitely slightly intoxicated.

“You know, Rose has been doing some research for a new book,” Lyta hummed.

“Yes,” Dream agreed. He had already read it. Marvelous, as always. 

“Found out your name comes from Hindu origins,” Lyta continued as if Dream hadn’t spoken. 

“It is one of many names,” Dream spoke.

“And that wake and dreaming are concepts from them.”

“Not quite,” Dream hummed. “They are concepts I allowed them to have.”

Lyta leaned against his shoulder. “Sometimes I wish I could sleep and never wake. Sometimes I think you understand that.”

“I do.”

“Do you think I’ll see Hector again if I do?”

“No,” Dream shook his head. “Lyta Hall, you are a woman of many secrets. As was Hector Hall. I think, dear Lyta, if you wish to see him again, you will wait for him to find you.”

“When he finds me… will you…”

“My door, Lyta Hall, is open to you both,” Dream whispered to her. “As I have given you my seal, Daniel will do as such, again. You are of the Dreaming, now. And as Hector is yours, he will be mine.”

“Dream?”

“Yes Lyta.”

“Is that time coming?”

“Soon.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

—-----------------------------

Rose Walker sat in a little corner in the back of the library, laptop before her and an empty coffee cup, long since drained, at her side. She was slumped back in her seat, hands stalled over the keyboard. She had come for the peace and quiet of the library, only to find that her case of writer’s block was more than just that of screaming toddlers, annoying husbands, obnoxious little brothers, and a neighbor who loved to pop by at random like an obnoxious older sister popping into her younger sister's bedroom. 

“Careful of your cup, dear,” Nancy the Page walked by.

“It’s empty,” Rose hummed sheepishly at the woman.

“Well, then, let me take that for you,” Nancy laughed at the familiar exchanged, getting a giggle from Rose. “Oh, it looks like your Uncle is back. I’ll go ahead and take this from you and leave you to it.”

Rose’s gaze snapped up to find Dream walking towards her, an amused smile on his lips as he tugged out the chair and sat down across from her.

“I have a sense of deja vu,” Rose hummed to him.

“I feel the same,” Dream offered, grin growing brighter. “How odd that I keep coming across you here in such a creative funk.”

“I am… half-tempted to pray and beg to Calliope for help,” Rose grumbled, poking a couple random keys on her keyboard before backspacing. “How do you come up with stories, Uncle Dream?”

Dream blinked, immediately puzzling over the question. “I… suppose I take them from others.”

Rose blinked.

“The first story, Cain and Abel, were events that happened, Rose,” Dream began to explain. “Many tales that come in people’s dreams have happened before. Perhaps I create nightmares and dreams of my own making, but many times those creations come from other things. Stories, today, are often retold over and over, occasionally being rewritten in a different way. Even now, dear Rose, this moment between us can be dreamed into several different versions. Sometimes they find their way back to their original form, but at its heart, a story is a tale that has been told before.”

“So… I should write… fanfiction?”

Dream cocked his head. “Perhaps, in some ways, every story is this… fanfiction. You replace names and locations, but at the heart, you are simply writing events how you wish they would have happened. A Kinder End, perhaps.”

A Kinder End.

“Don’t we deserve a kinder end?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. That, dear Rose, is in the hands of the story teller.”

A Kinder End.

“Thank you, Uncle Dream. I love you.”

“Of course, Rose. I love you too.”

It was hard to get tired of hearing those words when they were true.

Chapter Text

“This story sucks,” a child huffed. 

“Does it, now?” the old man let out a breathy laugh. “Well, then perhaps I’ll stop. Should I stop?”

The other seven children all let out groans of protest, well aware that the story ending would mean their bedtime. The sounds, of course, served only to make the old man laugh harder. Which, sadly, caused him to break into a coughing fit. 

“It’s bedtime, anyways,” a voice declared, a young looking man who had been tending to the older for quite some time. “Run along, now. We shall finish the story another time.”

“But Uncle Hob!” the child whined. “We want to hear Great Grandpa’s story!”

“And you will,” Hob Gadling told the children. “You will hear it to the end, and you will hear it many times over. But it is late, and even old men need to rest.”

An old woman, younger than the bedridden man, but looking older than Uncle Hob, entered the room at the sad cries of protest, allowing the parents to claim their children. Leaving the room vacant other than the presence of the three.

“It’s nearly time, Ivy,” Hob told the woman gently. “Figured I should allow the children to fall asleep, first.”

Ivy Walker, now an old woman, mother, and grandmother, looked to her Uncle, tears gathering in her eyes as she crossed the room. Her Uncle took her hand in his own.

“Don’t fret, my sweet Ivy,” he told her with a fond smile and a pat to her hand. “I’m just going to see your Great Great Grand-Auntie for a bit then I’ll be there in your dreams.”

“I know, Uncle Jed,” Ivy sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You had such a long life-time. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.”

“Ah, I see, using my own words against me,” Jed waggled a finger at her. “I suppose that is true, my dear. “So very true. When Rose died… yes, I am sorry you must feel this pain, sweet Ivy.”

“Daniel, too,” Ivy whispered. “And Great Uncle Dream.”

Jed’s face fell, no longer able to hold his smile. “My dear Ivy. You have lost much. Such is the nature of mortal life-times, I suppose. But I will be there in your dreams. I swear it.”

“I know,” Ivy nodded. “I’ve got Auntie Lyta and Uncle Hector, too. And Uncle Hob, of course.”

“You darn better believe it,” Hob huffed a fond, but sad laugh. “We’ll mourn together, Ivy, my dear.  Just as we always do.”

Jed hummed, already feeling the tug of the dreaming calling to him. He fell under the call as sand brushed around him. Calling him. As he slept, Ivy and Hob watched and waited. They greeted Death as she stepped into the room, who kindly greeted them back, hugging her brother’s best friend and her Great Great Gand-Niece before guiding the rest of Jed’s soul into the Dreaming. 

Leaving Hob and Ivy to mourn.

—-----------------------------

A Kinder End . The last book ever written by Rose Walker that would ever be published. A tale of a great tragedy.

Unknown to the public, or her publishers, she wrote a sequel to the book. A tale called The Heart of Dream.

Both books were written as letters to her future descendents. Tales that would tell her story to her family so they might understand why, on some nights, they would dream of her. And, why, often times, she would refer to the King of Dreams as Daniel.

A Kinder End, she would say, was written as a tale of events that could have happened. In fact, many were quite surprised to see that the ending was not kind at all. Quite cruel and morbid and left many crying. Her best work. 

The Heart of Dream, however, might have better held the title of the first book far better. For it told of a true kinder end. 

Yet still a tragedy.

In the end, Dream of the Endless made his choice. 

He chose to die.

The choice he finally made was done when Rose was very ill, discovering the illness that had claimed her mother had also come to claim her. They managed to find the illness in Ivy and her younger siblings in time to prevent it, but the damage had already been done to Rose. Her time was coming.

And so, it was decided, it was Dream’s time too.

Rose Walker passed in her sleep, and days later, Daniel Hall went missing. 

At least, to the knowledge of the waking world, that was the order of events.

His mother had died some time ago, of course. So there was no one but the Walkers left to search for him. To care for him. They were too busy mourning, of course, to truly do a thorough search, and Daniel Hall was declared dead sometime later. Believed to have run away in the grief of losing his god-mother.

Naturally, this was the story spun to the public. For Lyta Hall was not dead, but being born of Greek gods and having the gift of immortality was quite noticeable to her neighbors, so she took over the New Inn as Robert Gadling’s distant niece, and one Hob Gadling came to the U.S. to set up a new life as Jed Walker's care physician. And Daniel, of course, had moved to fulfill his purpose. To become Dream of the Endless.

The Heart of Dream was the tale Jed Walker was telling his great grandchildren as he prepared to accept his Aunt’s gift and Daniel’s blessing. He did not get the chance to finish the tale in the waking. However, that did not mean he would not finish the tale.

—-----------------------------

“Bout time, Jeddy,” the voice of his sister, younger than she had been in years, washed over him. “Took you long enough.”

“Oh, bug off,” Jed also found he sounded much younger, waking in the lush green around him. “Just because I got a longer lifetime than you-”

“Now now,” Death chided, not unkindly. “You both got what everyone gets.”

“We know, Auntie Death,” Rose smiled at the woman.

“Sorry, Auntie Death,” Jed hummed to her, turning his gaze to where his hand was rested against the soft grass that greeted him. “And hello to you, old but new friend.”

The soul of Fiddler’s Green sung in the rushing of water and the greeting of a warm breeze. She had fallen into her new role well, the former Fiddler’s Green having moved on since Daniel’s reign had begun. She, like her master once was, was much like her counterpart, but yet so originally herself. 

“Jed,” a voice called to him. “I am glad you made it.”

Death, Rose, and Jed turned to greet the new voice of the soul that approached them. Clad in white, a color his counterpart would have scoffed at, was Dream of the Endless. Once Daniel Hall. Rose and Jed had helped raise the boy, once. Long ago. They still held such fondness for him in their hearts. 

Beside him was Matthew, such a loyal Raven, as he always was. He had since retired from his role as Dream’s Raven, but had chosen to retire within the dreaming. He could often be found giving advice, or guiding dreamers around, even telling stories of his old master. On Dream’s other side was a white Raven, the new Raven at his side. Tethys took to her roll as Dream’s companion well. Rose and Lucienne often joked that she was far more blunt than even Matthew. 

Dream of the Endless, once Daniel Hall, smiled to his sister, relieved that she had guided him here, before turning to Jed.

“I wasn’t just going to leave you, Uncle Dream,” Jed smiled up to the man. “I promised, remember. I’d be there to help you.” 

Dream smiled. Warmly. Brightly. Reminiscent of his former face. Offering Jed a hand.

“I know,” Dream told him. “And I thank you.”

Gone was Morpheus, Lord of Dreams, King of Nightmares, and Prince of Stories. He had finally let go. But yet, here he was. Perhaps he wore Daniel’s face. Maybe even acted as Daniel on some occasions, but at his core, he was their Uncle. Their Dream.

Perhaps that was strange to wrap one’s head around. Perhaps it played on people’s thoughts and psychological perspectives. But to the Walker siblings, to their children and grandchildren, it simply made sense. Because it was. 

It was what it was, even if it didn’t make sense.

Then again, did Dream’s always make sense?

Perhaps. 

Perhaps not.

Regardless of that, perhaps, in the end, this was the Kinder End.

“Shall we go,” Dream motioned further into Fiddler’s Green. “The children will be here soon, and they will want to hear the end of your tale, Jed.”

“Yeah, yeah, little brats,” Jed huffed fondly, sounding very much like the old man he died as. “I’m coming. Let me get used to being young again, first. It was lovely to see you, Auntie Death. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Never,” Death promised, hugging her Great Grand-Nephew. “Take care of each other!”

“Gladly!” Rose shouted back, grabbing her brother’s hand and linking arms with Dream. “Come on. Don’t want to keep the kiddies waiting.”

Yes, this truly was the kinder end.