Chapter Text
Hypno was afraid of what this night would bring, more than any night before.
He slept during the day lately, so he missed most of what was going on, all he needed to know was in their pleas and screams while they were sleeping. He probably knew more than any Hermit would like to know or was willing to share. But this evening he unfortunately was awake, he had seen the haunted looks on Hermits’ faces. He also was awake through all the screaming last night, but he chose not to interfere. It was not his place to do so.
In the evening, just when he woke up, Impulse managed to emerge from his house. It was just when Hypno woke up from his own sleep, taking a stroll around when there still was sunlight. His horns glistened in the dawn, almost like an omen. Omen that only Hypno was able to comprehend.
And he suspected that whatever Beef was doing would not be the only mutilation he was to see that night.
It was hard to explain to the other Hermits, what was happening to him. What he had seen and lived through during those past few nights.
Because Hypno would get trapped in nightmares. It was still his choice, at least that's what he wanted to believe in - that he chose to move through those horrifying lands with the other Hermits rather than staying at the spawn and listening to all of their screams and cries. He knew not of what happened to his body in the waking world when he would do that. He was separated from it completely and just sucked into the land of dreams. At first… it was brief. Just a peek into it as he placed his hand on a Hermit’s head. Then… it got worse and worse. It felt like falling, being sucked into a vortex made of dreams and nightmares.
And everything was made out of sand, dark as night, tightly woven like a tapestry that tried to imitate real life. As of now, he wasn't sure what exactly was that substance… or if it even existed in the first place. Dreams weren't supposed to be real, right?
“Hey, man. How was your night?” Iskall suddenly asked, leaning by the tree. Lost in thoughts, Hypno hadn't seen him at first, so he nearly jumped at the sudden question.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“I just came. I thought you heard me, sorry” Iskall just shrugged. To be honest he should have heard him. Everyone around was quite loud when they walked due to the gravel road. Maybe he was too lost in thought for that…
“No, I have heard many things, but definitely not you” he answered him, fiddling for a second with his watch. “And as for your question, night is about to begin” he pointed out, slightly smiling.
“But you slept through the day again” Iskall huffed, before his gaze turned slightly softer. “Are you feeling alright?”
Ah, yes. The question that no one knew how to answer right now. Hypno could say he was alright. After all, nothing much was happening to him. He didn’t grow horns, he wasn’t covered with fur, his eyes didn’t change colour. So… he was doing quite well, considering all the chaos around him. But on the other hand, was any of them alright now? Everyone was stressed, worried and afraid. It was taking a toll on everyone's psyche. People were restless, even if there was nothing noticeable happening to them. Not to mention that Hypno had a glance at everything that has been going on underneath, into the thoughts they themselves didn’t know they were having. And it was quite a burden to carry.
“As well as I can” he answered eventually, but hesitantly. “I’m hardly anyone’s concern with what is going on around” Iskall’s gaze turned even softer than it was before, sad and concerned. Right. He shouldn’t have said that outloud.
“Everyone is important. Never forget that” he stepped forward, reaching out to Hypno. But… he stopped himself halfway. As if afraid to touch him. A valid fear in their current situation. “You might not need medical attention, but your suffering is as valid as everyone else’s. So… if you ever need help, just ask. Don’t keep it to yourself”
Of course Hypno knew about that. They were all equally important, they were a family. Hermits, but close knitted as no other community was.
“I’ll keep that in mind” he half-lied. He’ll keep that in mind. But he doubted he’d ever share anything he had seen. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to. “Sleep well, Iskall. I wish you peaceful dreams”
It was a wish both for him and for Iskall. He hoped that one day the night could be quiet again. That there would be no more screams, just soft humms of peaceful dreams.
For the sunset he climbed to the top of Scar’s tree. Sunset was persistent in his time lately. It was beautiful, the sky painted in many colours, air slightly chill at this multitude. But it was like a beautiful omen, the start of the nightmares that were about to come. Last quiet moment for Hypno, that he liked to cherish. Scar’s area was usually quiet at the start. Cub had a tendency to go to bed late, usually taking shifts with other medics into the night. Grian and Keralis were far away enough not to be heard from the doorstep too, so it was fine. Not to mention he hadn’t heard Kerali’s dreams in quite a while… And Scar… Scar was uncharacteristically quiet during the night. His usually loud and bubbly personality was dimmed in his dreams, worried humm always persistent. There was one more thing that Hypno noticed during his nightly walks. If there was a time when Scar’s dreams would get loud, strange things would happen around the garden. Will-o’-wisps would flicker in and out of existence, some flowers would wilt, others would bloom. As if everything around here was connected to his thoughts and mood.
Hypno usually traversed through the whole spawn area in the night before settling by one Hermit he would randomly choose. Some dreams he preferred not to touch. He glanced into Zedaph’s dreams once before he moved to his base and he had no intention to do this again as the Hermit returned. His dreams were just chaotic, to say the least. Hypno feared for his own safety in them. The most calm dreams belonged to TFC, but they were also unsettling. He visited it once, too. He found himself in a cave, surrounded by this deep, ancient melody, humming and vibrating in his bones. It was suffocating. He felt as if he was being buried alive.
Tonight he found himself standing by Grian’s door, his window still broken and gaping from his accident around a week prior. Was it a week? Or was it a month? He wasn’t sure. Time was running too fast for his liking.
Grian’s problem was quite peculiar to say the least. Because his thoughts, his screams and cries were never human. Hypno wasn’t sure what animal it reminded him of, but it wasn’t human. So tonight he was going to find out what exactly was going on in his mind.
Entering a nightmare was relatively easy. He just had to place a hand on his head, reach through the sand, reach out and grab the dream. And then he would just enter.
First thing he noticed was that he was in some sort of void. The second was that he was falling. And the third… he noticed Grian.
Grian wasn’t human. Or at least not entirely. With a sickening squelch of flesh and cracks of breaking bones his image shifted, as his body morphed beyond recognition. He had seen a similar thing while watching Beef dream, but not to this extent. His skin would cover with feathers, but they would break and fall out, returning to bare flesh. His limbs morphed, either into wings or hands or feet of some bird, ever changing, ever breaking. There was no face to this creature. It had been replaced by a sharp beak, open and screeching in pain, tears falling from where the eyes should be, covered by many broken feathers.
“Grian!” he called out to him, trying to get a little closer, to maybe help him. But the creature that was once his friend only screeched louder, trashed harsher. And Hypno’s hand only met sand.
The sand. Ever persistent sand, dark as night and harsh against his skin. He could feel as it moulded into the feathers, the tears and blood. But it was still just this stupid sand. Maybe… maybe he could just rip it all apart, destroy this, whatever this was.
But the sand was persistent. Whatever he ripped away, it returned, even more and more. It started crawling onto him and Grian’s screams only grew louder and more painful.
Was it his doing? By trying to destroy it, was he harming him? He felt exhausted. As if he was trying to push back the sea, only to be swept away by the next tide. His hands were blackened, fingers nearly bleeding from the rough texture.
So he just stopped. And watched. The dark void around them, the morphing creature. Helpless. Right, he could only watch, why would he even think he was able to do anything more. Everyone always said that in the dreams you could always do whatever you wanted. That you had the ability to make everything happen. So why wasn't he able to? Why couldn't he destroy it?
He looked at his hands. Black veins were wrapped around his forearms, small specks still shining on his skin, taunting him. He was helpless. He wasn't able to destroy the thing that was eating his friend away. If he could only change something, anything. To make it into a good dream instead.
And then it clicked. The last spark of hope.
You can do everything in the dream. But what if it wasn't his dream to begin with? If it wasn't him that had the control to end it, to wake up? He could just step out, the dream would continue.
He couldn't just destroy the dream, because he was not the one dreaming. He couldn't just switch everything, turn it upside down… Because it wasn't of his own making… It wasn't his mind, he couldn't just make everything happen.
But maybe… just maybe… he could mould it in some better way. Just… a gentle push… a whisper into his ear…
He reached out, the feathers and blood melting into sand beneath his hand, letting him into the core of his existence. A thread, maybe wire, thick, but brittle. And so he caught it… and pulled. The skin exploded into thousands of colours, as Grian cried out for the last time and the wings stretched far, so beautiful, so soft. Hypno gasped and the black sky melted into the purest blue, clouds beneath them looked like the fluffiest snow.
And they flew.
Hypno woke up suddenly, his hand ripped away from Grian's head by someone who was holding him by the wrist. But he couldn't exactly see that someone as black splotches filled his vision, he felt weak. The screams once again filled his head, but they were dulled out by the crushing tiredness he suddenly felt.
“...-re-...-u-...-kay?” someone was speaking, but he wasn’t sure who it was nor what they were saying. He wanted to stand up or maybe sit down, but his body felt limp.
“I-...-nk-...-exhaust-...-call Str-...” another voice piped up, but it was nothing more than ringing in Hypno’s ears. Gods, why was he so exhausted? He couldn’t even gather his thoughts, his mind cloudy and dull, as if someone stuffed it with cotton.
“Hypnotizd, go to sleep” suddenly there was one clear voice. “Just go to sleep, you need some rest” everything after that was dark.
He just fell asleep. And there was no dark sand in his dream. Just some colours.