Chapter Text
The vines were winding themselves around Hob’s ankles.
“Dream?” he called out. “Dream! Please talk to me!”
There was no response except for the vines creeping up Hob’s legs.
“Please,” he addressed the vines now, “I need to talk to Dream. To Lord Morpheus. Please, my name is Hob Gadling. I need to speak with him.”
The vines had reached his upper thighs.
“Can you just tell me if he’s in the Dreaming?”
His waist was encircled.
“I - I just need to know if he’s alright.”
Dream had been gone for nearly a week with no word. They’d had a fantastic night in the Dreaming and Dream had kissed him before he woke up. The following night when Hob slept, he found himself alone in a random part of the Dreaming. Usually when Dream was unavailable he made sure that Hob ended up somewhere nice, and there was usually a note. But it was just… a normal dream. Hob didn’t think much about it, but when the same thing happened the following night, and the one after, and the one after that, with no sign of Dream in the waking world, he began to worry. The dreams became more unsettling, which in itself was alarming, as Hob hadn’t had a nightmare since he and Dream had reunited six months ago.
Prior to this mysterious absence Dream had, when the mood struck him and they were not otherwise occupied, been trying to teach Hob how to navigate the Dreaming. Hob cursed himself now for not trying harder to get the hang of it.
He fought the urge to struggle against the vines that were now constricting his chest. He knew, logically, that it was a dream, and he would wake up in his bed. But he also knew how real things in the Dreaming were, and fearing the worst for Dream only made his instinct to panic more intense.
“CAW! Let him go!”
The vines stopped advancing but definitely did not let go. With a flap of wings Matthew landed in front of him.
Hob gasped in relief. “Matthew! I’m so glad to see you! Is he here? Is he okay?”
“He’s in the Dreaming,” Matthew said. “He’s safe. I’m going to take you to him and I’ll explain along the way.”
Hob’s eyes closed and he felt himself sag. “Oh thank god.”
“Now,” Matthew addressed the vines again, “let him go.”
There was no movement from the vines and Matthew cocked his head, listening to something Hob couldn’t hear.
The raven spread his wings. “I don’t give a shit about his agitated fucking mindset! I’m telling you to let him go!”
Matthew listened again. “Of course it’s an order from Lord Morpheus! I’m not traipsing around interfering with nightmares for grins!”
Another pause in which Matthew made a noise of disgust. “Do you want to get unmade? Because this is how you get unmade!”
One tendril of vine started to uncurl then stopped. Matthew growled and Hob wondered if all ravens could growl or just dream ravens.
“Soon. He will be back on the throne soon, and the second he is, you are in deep shit, bub. And if you at all want to mitigate - I’m sorry, that’s probably too big a word for a fucking idiot nightmare like you. If you want to reduce the amount of shit you are going to be in, then you need to let the dreamer go right fucking now.”
Finally, the vines began to loosen and Hob yanked himself free, stumbling forward.
“I will remember this, you piece of shit plant!” Matthew cawed, before turning his back and hopping away. “Come on, loverboy,” he called over his shoulder to Hob.
“Sorry about that,” Matthew said when the vines had faded into mist behind them. “I know the Boss says they don’t all need to be smart, but I think it would save everyone a lot of agita if the baseline were less fucking idiotic.”
“Matthew, you said he was safe but you didn’t say that he’s okay. Please, I have to know.”
Matthew sighed. “There was this demon monster thing that had been scrabbling around the outside of the Dreaming. And I guess it found a place where the fabric was thin, probably from when the Boss was locked up, and it was minor enough that he didn’t notice during the re-build.”
“Oh shit,” Hob murmured.
“So the demon monster somehow managed to tear its way into the Dreaming and started eating a bunch of dreams and nightmares. Lord Morpheus goes to fight it, but this fucker has dream power now, thanks to the dreams it ate. Big nasty battle. The Boss gets tossed around a fair amount before he manages to kick the thing’s ass.”
Hob’s heart was pounding in his chest. “Was he hurt?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t think he can be hurt in the Dreaming. Not in any way that really matters. So the battle part was fine. The problem was the tear. And let me tell you, it was scary-looking. Like you think The Void is going to be black like the night sky. It’s not black, it’s not any color. It’s… I don’t know, my brain kind of switches off when I try to picture it.”
“But Dream - I mean Morpheus,” Hob prompted.
“Right. A tear in the Dreaming is like a tear in him and it… it hurt him.” Matthew squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head before continuing. “He freed the dreams and nightmares from the demon monster’s belly and shoved its corpse out through the tear, then closed it. But it’s just barely closed. He said it needs to heal - he needs to heal - and it’s using an incredible amount of his power to do that. He says he’ll be okay in time.” Matthew glanced around and lowered his voice. “But he’s in pain and he doesn’t have strength for anything else right now.”
“Oh god. Are we almost there?”
“Yeah.” Matthew pointed with a wing, and Hob saw that they were stepping onto the bridge that led to the Palace of the Dreaming.
They hurried across and Matthew greeted the wyvern, the griffin, and the hippogriff, who quickly let them enter.
“After a few days,” Matthew continued once they were inside, “it started raining. Which was good because it meant that he was strong enough to be influencing the weather, but bad because it meant he was upset. When Lucienne and I finally got him to talk to us, it turned out that it was over your sorry ass.”
Hob snorted and Matthew shot him a glare.
“It won’t be safe for him to return to the Waking for a while and he could feel you looking for him, but he wasn’t strong enough to bring you here.”
“So he sent you.”
“No,” Matthew said. “I volunteered. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you, Matthew.”
They turned a corner and were faced with an ornately carved door.
“I usually just fly through, but you’ve got hands, so you might as well open it.”
Hob pushed the door open to reveal an elegant bedroom. And lying on the bed, looking as small and thin as Hob had ever seen him, was Dream.
Hob sprang towards him. “Dream!”
As Dream pushed himself upright he grimaced and clutched his side.
Hob gently sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Dream too much, and wrapped him in his arms, pressing kisses to his hair as Dream rested his forehead on Hob’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Dream murmured from inside his embrace.
“Oh, love, I was so worried.”
“I’m sorry. I could feel you searching for me in the Dreaming but I couldn’t reach you.”
“Don’t apologize, I’m just glad you’re safe. But Matthew said you’re hurt.”
Dream nodded and sat back, then lifted the hem of his t-shirt, revealing a wound the size of Hob’s hand on his side, just below his ribs. The wound was barely scabbed over and angry red, the skin around it puckered and bruised.
Hob’s breath hissed through his teeth.
“I am not frequently in physical pain,” Dream said quietly, lowering his shirt. “Even the pain of being severed from the Dreaming during my imprisonment was different from this.”
Hob reached out to stroke his cheek and Dream closed his eyes, then spoke again.
“The effort required to heal myself and the Dreaming is immense. I’m very tired.”
“Boss, do you need anything?” Matthew’s voice came from the doorway, surprising both of them. “Cause if not, I’ll give you some privacy.”
“No, I have everything I need.” Dream opened his eyes and smiled at Hob, then turned to the raven. “Thank you, Matthew. I am very grateful.”
He held out his hand and Matthew hesitated, glancing at Hob, then flew to Dream’s hand where he perched delicately. Dream stroked his hand down Matthew’s back, then bowed his head and touched his forehead to Matthew’s. Matthew closed his eyes with a sigh. After a moment they both drew back, and Matthew hopped to the floor.
“I’ll be nearby. Just holler if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Matthew.”
Matthew turned to Hob. “Remember, he needs to rest, loverboy.”
Hob held up his hands. “Understood.”
Once the door had swung shut behind Matthew, Hob turned back to Dream.
“How can I help you, love?”
“Mervyn is monitoring the area of the rift to make sure it seals and strengthens properly and Lucienne is handling the business of the Dreaming while I am indisposed. Matthew is correct. I just need to rest. But that will be much more pleasant with your company.”
Hob leaned in to kiss him.
“I’m very glad you’re delegating,” he said once they pulled back.
Dream huffed. “I was hardly given a choice in the matter.” He shifted his position with a wince and a stifled groan. “I am just fortunate that Lucienne has more than earned my trust in these matters, otherwise Matthew would have driven me to distraction with his pestering.”
Hob chuckled. “He’s just worried about you.”
Dream gave a small smile. “He dotes. It is unnecessary, but very sweet.”
Hob smiled at him warmly. “Well I hope you can stand a little more doting, because I intend to do that too.”
Hob looked up as the room around him started to fade and he began to feel a tangle of blankets around his legs. Dream was lying with his head in Hob’s lap, his eyes closed and his expression peaceful.
“Dream,” Hob said quietly, stroking Dream’s hair.
“Mm.”
“I think I’m waking up, love. Can you keep me here?”
“No,” Dream murmured, and it was unclear to Hob if he was bound by some rule or just lacked the strength.
There was no time to push for answers. Hob could see the bed fading into his bed, the wall of his bedroom starting to materialize.
“Matthew!” he called.
The raven flew through the wall a moment later.
“What’s wrong?” he cawed.
“I’m waking up and Dream can’t keep me here.” Hob was pretty sure he kept the panic out of his voice.
Matthew cocked his head to the side. “If he can’t then I definitely can’t.”
“No, I know. But will you come get me again? When I’m back in the Dreaming tonight?”
Dream’s room was becoming fainter, Hob’s bedroom solidifying.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Matthew assured him.
Hob let himself breathe. “Thanks, Matthew. And you’ll keep an eye on him today?”
Matthew cawed. “You know I will.”
“I know.”
Dream was sitting up now and Hob kissed him quickly before he faded away.
“Wrong.”
Hob sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He turned ninety degrees and took another step forward.
“Wrong again.”
He spun on his heel to face Matthew. “Are you sure you’re not a nightmare?”
“Are you sure you want to see your boyfriend?” Matthew glared at him.
Hob felt his jaw tense but consciously kept his tone light and joking. “Watch it, bird.”
For the past several nights Matthew had been narrating for Hob how he knew what direction to go to reach the Palace from wherever Hob had entered the Dreaming. Tonight Hob had asked if he might try leading the way, but was regretting it intensely. His time with Dream was limited to how long he could stay asleep, and now he felt like he was wasting precious minutes.
Matthew noticed his irritation. “Look, let’s try something easier. I’ve been showing you how to find the Palace, but what you really need to do is find Lord Morpheus.”
Hob frowned. “He’s in the Palace isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but to get to the Palace you need to intentionally move towards the Palace. You should be able to just glide to Lord Morpheus.”
“Glide?”
Matthew huffed. “I usually fly, okay? But it should work for walking too. Listen, close your eyes.”
Hob sighed. “Matthew-“
“This is important, loverboy. You need to be able to get to him without me. If something happens and I can’t come for you, we can’t have you wasting your whole night in nightmare vines when he needs you, right?”
Hob took a deep breath. “Right.” He closed his eyes.
“Good. Now picture Lord Morpheus.”
Dream’s form in the waking world: goth twink in an unseasonable overcoat. Hob’s favorite Dreaming form: seven feet tall with stark white skin, eyes of the night sky and hair wild. Dream’s appearance since his injury: small and fragile, the stars of his eyes dim.
“Okay,” Hob said out loud.
“He is the heart of the Dreaming,” Matthew said. “Wherever he is, that’s the center. And everything here is constantly being drawn to him. It’s - uh - faster than plate tectonics but slower than tides.”
“Okay…” Hob kept his eyes closed, holding on to the pictures of Dream.
“Now, feel his pull.”
Hob tried to feel Dream. He reached out, searching. Where was he?
Was that a whisper at the back of his mind? Where was it coming from? Where should he go? Hob gritted his teeth and strained.
“No, no. Stop it.” Matthew’s voice cut in. “You’re trying too hard.”
Hob growled in frustration. “Can we do this another time? We’ve probably wasted half the night.”
Matthew shook his head. “Chill. It’s dream time. It’s only been a few minutes and you’re close.”
Hob took a breath and rolled his shoulders. “Alright.”
“Okay. Just relax. Can you feel how the Dreaming is like a big tub of water? Like time and space are all liquidy and gloopy?”
“I - I guess?” But as Hob thought about it he thought he might understand. “Yeah, it’s fluid, right?”
“Fluid! Yes! That’s the word!” Matthew flapped a couple times. “Right, so all that fluid is in a tub and someone pulled out the plug so now the fluid is flowing to the drain. He’s the drain. You just need to go with the flow. Relax and let yourself feel it.”
Hob breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He closed his eyes again and focused on how the feeling of the Dreaming was different from the waking world, focused on the fluidity. And then he pictured Dream again.
Keeping his eyes closed, he turned and took a step.
“Yes!” Matthew’s caw was triumphant.
Dream was sitting up in bed, propped against pillows, when Hob opened the door to the bedroom. Dream reached for him and Hob hurried over and kissed his hands.
Dream turned his attention to Matthew, who was standing by the door. “Matthew, it seems my injury has affected my perception of what is occurring in the Dreaming.”
Matthew flew to the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong, Boss?”
“I thought that you had perhaps described me as a bathtub drain, but I know my loyal raven would never do such a thing.”
Matthew’s head retracted into his body for a second before he saw Dream’s mischievous smirk and relaxed. He shook his feathers. “In my defense, Boss, it’s what got loverboy here to grasp the concept of how to reach you in the Dreaming.”
Dream smiled up at Hob. “I am very grateful for that, Matthew.”
Matthew angled himself in the air to wheel down to Lord Morpheus’s balcony. He could see Hob leaning against the railing, facing Lord Morpheus, who was seated in a chair, his face turned towards the sun.
Matthew gave a caw as he approached so he wouldn’t take them by surprise, and landed on the railing next to Hob.
“You’re outside, Boss!”
“I am.” Lord Morpheus smiled. “I walked out here, too.”
“Barely held my arm at all,” Hob put in. “He’s doing great.”
“I can tell.” Matthew gestured to the sun with his wing. “This feels amazing, Boss, thanks.”
“I anticipate more sunny days to come.” Lord Morpheus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“And you.” Matthew turned to Hob. “You got here pretty quick!”
“Yeah, I’m learning! Only one wrong turn!” Hob grinned.
“Three.” Lord Morpheus hadn’t moved or opened his eyes.
“Hey!” Hob gave his ankle a gentle kick. “Don’t rat me out! I’m trying to impress Matthew!”
“Three is still pretty good, considering I was pulling you out of nightmare vines a couple weeks ago.” Matthew did not bother mentioning that he had been tracking Hob’s progress through the Dreaming. Just in case he took a very wrong turn.
“Yes, you are a more skilled teacher of Dreaming navigation than I am, Matthew.”
Matthew flapped over to the arm of Lord Morpheus’s chair. “Starting with teaching him how to find you was key, Boss. You couldn’t really describe what you feel like to someone else.”
“Like a bathtub drain.”
Matthew sighed. “I’m never gonna live that one down, am I?”
Lord Morpheus kept his eyes closed, but smiled and stroked his finger over Matthew’s chest. “Never is a very long time Matthew. I do tend to forget things eventually.”
Matthew made himself comfortable on the arm of the chair, enjoying the sunlight and the stroking.
As Matthew approached the Shore of Creation, he saw Lord Morpheus, as he expected, but a little way off Hob was lounging on the black sand with a book. Matthew landed in front of him.
“Hey, loverboy.”
Hob marked his place in the book. “Hello, Matthew.”
Matthew glanced over his shoulder at Lord Morpheus. “Are you just hanging out while he works?”
Hob nodded. “I’m asleep so I might as well. And Lucienne leant me a great book.”
“What is it?” Matthew tilted his head to look at the spine.
“It’s Moby Dick but with all the sex scenes that Melville thought about but didn’t include.”
Matthew cawed a laugh. “How are the sex scenes?”
“Well,” Hob gave a thoughtful look, “let’s just say the man’s passion for intricate detail extended even to his unwritten work.”
“Hah! I’ll leave you to it.”
“Oh wait, before you go, I wanted to ask you something I’ve been wondering about.”
Matthew settled down on the sand. “Shoot.”
“Can you talk to other birds? Like bird birds in the Waking.”
“Sometimes. I can talk to other ravens. They’re pretty cool. Did you know ravens write poetry?”
“I did not. What are raven poems about?”
“Some love poems, some about shiny things. Actually those tend to be very similar. But they also have poems that are just collections of sounds. I really like those.”
Hob’s eyes had that light about them that Matthew had noticed any time he was learning something new. “That’s fascinating. Can you talk to birds who are not ravens?”
“Yeah, crows are like talking to someone with a different accent. Magpies are still speaking the same language but like with a really thick accent. Like a Scottish brogue or something.”
“Huh. Have you tried talking to non-corvids?”
“Of course! I’m a friendly guy. Non-corvids sound like they’re speaking a different language. And with some birds it’s like I’m speaking Spanish and they’re speaking Portuguese so if we work at it we can figure it out. But ducks and geese are - I don’t know - speaking Finnish or something.”
“Wow. I guess that makes sense.”
“Oh! And chickens!” Matthew said, fully warmed to his topic now. “Chickens are wild, man. Well, not wild. Domesticated. I think that might be part of the problem. But they’re savage. I swear to you they speak Klingon. They’re totally out for blood one hundred percent of the time.”
“Blood-thirsty, Klingon-speaking chickens, huh?”
Matthew folded one wing over his chest and raised the other in the air. “God’s honest truth. Or my feather’s aren’t black.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I’m eating a drumstick,” Hob chuckled.
They lapsed into a companionable silence and Matthew turned to watch Lord Morpheus. He was standing still, but the dream in front of him was slowly changing shape.
“It’s so good to see him strong enough to create again. It feels like he might really be back to normal.”
“Yeah,” Hob agreed. “I think he’s very relieved.”
“I’m glad he had you, you know,” Matthew said, “to help him through. I think it would have been hard for him to lean on me or other dreams the way he leaned on you.”
“I just wish I could have been here more. But the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in the Waking was knowing that you were with him while I was gone.”
“You should both be aware by now that I can hear you.” Lord Morpheus’s voice sounded very near to them. “And instead of the dream I was working on I now find myself constructing a nightmare chicken.”
“Sorry, Boss!”
“Sorry, love!”
Matthew stood and shook the sand off his feathers. “I’ll leave you to your book.” A thought occurred. “It’s not the whale having sex is it? Never mind!” he added quickly. “I don’t want to know.”
Hob chuckled. “See you around, Matthew.”
“Bye, loverboy.”