Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's a fire message that Magnus had received many times over the years, and he despised it more and more as it continued to happen.  A mundane, someone fancying themselves a wizard or like the warlocks they were always so willing to hire, trapped a warlock and forced them to perform magic until the warlock died or was magically drained and then collapsed.  It was worse, by the sound of things, and being given special dispensation to figure out precisely who was in the basement of the Burgess manor was... interesting, to say the least.

Especially since, based on what Ragnor had told him, as High Warlock of London, none of the warlocks in his purview were missing.  Even the ones who remained stubbornly out of communication on the regular.  They were all present and accounted for.  However, there was a unanimous agreement, after several investigation attempts, that there was something in Burgess' mansion, and whatever it was - demon or warlock, it needed to be destroyed or freed.  

Which was precisely why Ragnor was calling Magnus.  

Magnus took his time heading to the Burgess manor, pretending to be touring the countryside, rich, lavish, and he had barely begun his investigation when he was told that he simply had to visit The Magus, who would welcome someone with his occult interests.  Lips twitching, Magnus begged for more information, because if they were going to make this simple for him, then he would take advantage and cut down on his trip length.  Ragnor would certainly appreciate the cost savings.  

Based on everything he was told, however, a trapped warlock seemed less and less likely.  The man had no true networks beyond mundane secrets and perhaps an old spellbook or two, which meant that whatever he had in his basement was likely demonic in nature.  Magnus sent the information to Ragnor and took a more direct route to the mansion, sending a notice to the mansion ahead of time about his arrival.  

The local town nearby was tingling in a way that put every hair on his body on edge, and Magnus kept an eye out.  There was strong magic here, old magic, too.  Far older than him, and that alone was reason to be cautious.  If there was another warlock helping Burgess, while he could likely overpower them, it would certainly cause politics that Ragnor would never let him hear the end of.  But after checking into the very modest nearby hotel, and sliding enough money off the counter to ensure his fake name would not be looked at twice, Magnus dressed himself down, and made his way toward the local tavern.  

A few rounds in the hands of the locals, as he pretended to celebrate, was always guaranteed to loosen tongues, and tell him what he needed to know.  

"If we don't go in with a plan, we're going to get trapped."  A caw, and an irritated voice snapped.

"You want me to leave him in there one second longer than we have to?" Another hissed.  

Magnus glamoured himself in a second at the sound of the hissed voices on the outside of the tavern and stepped into the alley to look at the man who appeared to be talking to... no one?  That same magic, the old, heavy one was lingering and Magnus studied them closer, moving carefully closer, his magic cloaking him.  

The raven shook herself.  "Of course not, I want him free more than anyone, but it took me weeks to find you, and we're so close, we can't mess up now."  

Magnus watched as the man took a deep, steadying breath, before nodding.  

"All right, fine.  But if you think I'm leaving there without him-"

"My lord means more to me than he does to you!" The raven snapped.  

Magnus raised his eyebrows.  Lord?  If they were talking about the same creature, and he got the sneaking suspicion that they were, who commanded ravens?  He shook himself, several minor nature gods coming to mind, but they were all fading from this world, especially in areas like this.  Had Burgess really managed to capture one of them?

"He is my friend, and I will get him out."  

The conviction in that statement had Magnus smiling and after debating it for a moment longer, he cleared his throat, letting his glamor fall as he stepped closer to them, drawing their attention to him.  He spread his hands and grinned.  "I believe we all might be here for the same reason.  Allow me to introduce myself.  Magnus Bane."  He gave a quick bow and held out his hand, casting a privacy ward around them in a wash of blue magic.

"Gadling, Hob Gadling," the man said, thrusting his hand out.  He glanced toward the raven and raised his eyebrows.  "He heard you speaking, you know he did."  

Magnus turned to her and gave another bow.  "I have seen a great many things in my days, my lady, but I assure you, I mean no harm.  I was informed that I might be rescuing a warlock from the basement of a rather odious lord in these parts."  

"Not a warlock," Jessamy said, hopping impatiently.  "Something far more precious, and far more dangerous."  

Magnus' eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to her, that same uncomfortable feeling running up his spine.  "That is quite the claim, my lady," he murmured.  "Who, or what, precisely, are we rescuing?"  

Jessamy let out a caw.  "You're rescuing one of the Endless."  

Magnus staggered back a step, his eyes going wide.  

Hob Gadling laughed.  "Glad you at least know what the hell that means, cause I sure as fuck didn't.  But I've known him for centuries now, and I'm not about to leave him there."  

Magnus looked at the human next to him who was... very human, but every indicator of his magic, except for faint touches of other magic to him.  Other magic, that clearly belonged to one of the Endless.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  The Sleeping Sickness.  Of course.  That explained the reason that people had been dropping from it and into an endless slumber.  

"You know him?" Jessamy asked.  

"Of them, yes," Magnus said, taking another deep breath.  He looked between them.  "It is a very good thing that I have an invitation to the manor tomorrow.  You will be coming as my guest," he said to Hob.  He turned full attention to the raven.  "I want the both of you to come back to my room.  You have my word on my magic that you will be safe and I will not keep you there.  But you need to tell me everything you know so we can get him out."  

The caw he got in response made him grin.  

~!~

An hour later, Magnus' magic was itching under his skin as he paced across the room.  Jessamy had had to return to the land of her lord, who, if he wasn't mistaken, was Dream of the Endless, one of the strongest of the seven, save Death and Destiny.  

"So, what are you?" Hob asked, taking a sip of whisky.  "Not human, like my friend, I am guessing."  

Magnus let out a small laugh.  "No, very much not human.  We're called warlocks.  Children of demons and humans."  

Hob blinked and frowned.  "Damn."  

"Quite," Magnus agreed, his lips turning up.

"Right, well.  Going to tell me why you seem so nervous about this?  Sounds like a smash and grab job."  Hob raised his eyebrows.  "Mind you, you know who we're rescuing and I don't-" he held up a hand when Magnus went to answer.  "Nor do I want to know.  He's my friend, and that's enough for me, and if he's going to tell me more about himself, I am going to hear it from him, thank you."  

Magnus let out a breath and sighed, closing his eyes.  "Right, well.  Without a magical theory discussion, the likes of which you'd follow maybe half of, let me put it this way.  Your friend is not a god.  He is more powerful than any god that walked this realm.  And if I am right, he has been trapped for approximately thirty years."  

Hob blanched, his eyes wide.  "He's..."  

Magnus gave a curt nod.  "A situation in which one such as he would be bound is... very specific, to say the least.  Which is why I am concerned.  When I was contracted for this job, we didn't know what was hiding in Burgess' basement, but I am only brought in for things like this in one of two situations."  

"Which are...?" Hob took another sip of his whiskey.  Magnus was paying for it, and it was expensive.  By the grin Magnus shot him, he knew precisely why Hob was availing himself of it.  

"First, an individual who cannot control their magic and needs to be contained once they are freed.  There are very few warlocks who, if push came to a literal shove, can overpower me.  I can... not put them down, but I can settle them to get them to a safer place," Magnus explained, sinking into one of the chairs, pushing his hair back and away from his face.  He took a deep breath.  

"The second situation is when a mundane-" he paused.  "Human.  Has summoned something much more powerful than they meant to, and someone has to put whatever that thing is back where it came from.  I am very familiar with the various hell realms, and the demons that come from there, from Princes of Hell down to grunt demons with no name.  Short of a Prince of Hell, there's nothing I can't send back."  Magnus summoned a glass of whiskey into his fingers and winked when Hob's eyes slammed wide.  

Magnus downed the drink and swallowed, savoring the burn of it.  "I can do neither for your friend.  If he chooses to kill us all in a rage, I cannot stop him.  I might, and I will stress might, be able to buy enough time for you to get away, but that will be all."  

"Oh don't worry about that," Hob said with a wave.  "If he goes off, get out of there and leave me behind."  

Magnus scowled and shook his head.  "No, I won't do that, I won't have you dying on my conscience-"

Hob snorted.  "Don't need to worry about that since I can't die, mate.  My friend made me immortal a long time ago."  

Magnus snapped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes.  By the look of understanding in the face in front of him, that meant more than aging.  He leaned forward.  "You cannot die," he repeated.  

"Nope.  Not unless I ask for it, of course.  But you could try to kill me with that magic of yours and it wouldn't work.  Could put me through a fair bit of pain, of course, but I starved for more than seventy years once," Hob shrugged.  "Not a stranger to pain."  

Magnus frowned at him.  "You should keep that knowledge closer to your chest, Hob Gadling."  

Hob twisted his lips.  "Why, you planning to use it against me?"  

Magnus grinned, shaking his head.  He did like the man.  "No.  But there are those who would, as your friend has likely warned you."  He summoned a business card to his fingertips and offered it to Hob.  "Here.  Touch this, and it will always come to your fingers when you think of it.  If you have need, use it to reach me."  

Hob took the card and watched it dissolve in a shower of gold sparks.  A moment of concentration later and it returned before he released it, satisfied.  "Why?"  

"Because you are a human willing to risk your life for something decidedly not," Magnus said with a shrug.  "And there are some things that magic makes easier that you could take advantage of, if you want."  

"I don't need your help to live, I've managed almost six centuries on my own," Hob said with a laugh.  "Though the offer is appreciated."  

Magnus smiled.  "You don't need my help now, or yet.  But in a world where you could end up in the same situation your friend is, you need a way to call out to a world that would be willing to help you.  I'm a part of that world.  If you never have cause to use it, I will still consider that magic well spent."  

Hob swallowed and acknowledged the point with a nod.  "Had Jessamy known to find me..."

"It's been thirty years," Magnus agreed with a nod.  "And I think we're both old enough to learn from our mistakes, aren't we?"  

"You'd think so," Hob said with a laugh.  "You'd think so."  He leaned back in the chair again and closed his eyes.  He let out a small sigh.  "I fought with him the last time I saw him.  I didn't know that I would ever see him again, our agreed meeting or not."  

Magnus hummed.  

"He's very proud.  Arrogant most would call him," Hob said with a shrug.  "But I think..." he trailed off.  "I think he's held himself closed off for so long, he's forgotten how to need others, and I want him to know that I am here if he has need."  

Tapping his finger on his whiskey glass, Magnus turned to look at the roaring fire in the hearth.  "In my experience," he started, his voice soft.  "Fights between immortals go one of two ways.  Either it becomes a grudge that is held for decades, centuries more.  Or, when it is truth that we are not ready to face, it is forgotten soon after and becomes a pit of regret if it is never faced."  

Hob laughed.  "Guess I'll find out which tomorrow."  He pushed himself to his feet.  "Sleep well, Magnus.  If you can manage to sleep."  

Magnus watched him go and turned back to the fire.  A flap of wings from the window alerted him to Jessamy now sitting there and he smiled faintly at her.  "All calm at the mansion."  

She nodded.  "How do you know of them?  My lord?"  

Magnus tightened his hand around his empty glass and let out a shuddering breath.  "I am a child of a Prince of Hell.  Royalty, from the Kingdom of Edom.  My father has met the Endless, and spoken of them, of their power, their purview, and purpose."  

Jessamy let out a caw.  "Yet you help humans?  Others of your kind?"  

The glass cracked under his fingertips and Magnus drew a steady breath.  "My father, and the bloodline I was born into do not determine who I am, or my actions."  He looked to her.  "I will free him, not for a boon, or blessing, or whatever else he could offer.  I will free him because he must be free, and I know that better than most creatures on this plane.  You have my word."  

Jessamy watched him throw the glass into the fire, the crash startling her, sending her back out into the night.  The window was closed behind her and she turned her wings toward the Dreaming, eager to speak to Lucienne, to let her know that they were close, so close to bringing Lord Morpheus home.  

Chapter Text

Magnus took his time dressing.  It seemed Burgess, a man who demanded to be called The Magus (and Magnus snorted at the audacity of such a name), appreciated opulence and was from old money.  Well.  There were certain ways to have an in with those sorts of people.  Stepping out of his room, he made his way downstairs, diamond-handled cane in hand, to join Hob Gadling for breakfast.  

Hob whistled, raising his eyebrows.  "You going to a meeting with the Queen?"  

Magnus fought down a smirk and gestured for coffee to be brought to the table.  "No, but I have found that appropriate shows of wealth prevent any concern over my race."  He shrugged and settled back in his chair. "To them, I am the nouveau riche, whether that is true or not, and they are always so eager to try to take advantage."  

Hob bared his teeth and smirked, taking a cup of tea.  "I do appreciate a man who knows how to wield cultural lethality."  He leaned back.  "When do we leave?"  

"An hour," Magnus answered, glancing outside.  Based on the remaining distance to the house, that would have them arriving in perfect time when there would be minimal staff in the house and guarding it.  He let out a breath and pulled out a set of cufflinks from his pocket and slid them across the table.  "Wear these."  

Hob took the cufflinks and raised his eyebrows at the sight of the rubies that gleamed.  "Why?  What are they?"  

Magnus slanted a glance at him.  "They work twofold.  In the event that violent magic is necessary - they will prevent my magic from touching you."  He paused pointedly.  "They will also operate as a failsafe for you.  If you are trapped in any way by these men, throw those to the ground and run.  Get as far as you can."  

"So you're not going to tell me what they do?"  Hob asked with a laugh and a fake pout, sipping at his tea before he put the cufflinks on with ease.  "Fair enough.  I don't plan on running though.  Not without him."  

Magnus nodded.  "In the event that you need to use them, I imagine you will be running with him," he explained, his eyes dark.  "I have my own ways out if it should become necessary, but I would not have either of you hurt in the ensuing fight."  

Hob rolled his eyes.  "You're so dramatic, christ.  We're going to be fine, you're being suspicious for nothing."  

"Suspicion has carried me far in these matters," Magnus said, taking a long sip of his coffee now that it had arrived.  His magic was disquieted, irritated under his skin, as though it knew what was waiting for them, what they had to hurry to do.  He took a deep breath and tightened his hands around the cup, eager to be on their way.  

"Come on, if you get any more tense, you're going to snap in half," Hob ordered.  "We've got my car - I'll park it in the woods on the way there.  We can ditch yours, and switch to mine."  

Magnus sighed.  He had liked that car.  Ah well, he would have to buy another.  "Good plan," he agreed.  "And we'll need to see what healing your friend needs.  I don't know if..."  He tapped on the table.  "Normally I would say I could heal the most severe injuries he might possess, but that may not be true.  I do not know what state we will find him in."  

"We'll figure it out once we're out of there," Hob said, giving another nod.  "Now come on, let's get going."  

Magnus followed Hob out of the hotel, sparing a moment to check himself out with nothing more than a nod, sending the remainder of his things to his Townhouse in London.  Sliding behind the wheel of the car, he headed toward the Burgess mansion, his hands tight on the wheel.  A caw above alerted him to the presence of Jessamy.  

At least his message to Ragnor this morning hadn't been a lie.  He did know precisely where they were going, who they were rescuing, and how to rescue them.  But it was not going to be that easy, and by the sinking feeling in his magic as they approached the mansion, something deep in him knew it.  Whatever had been used to capture Dream of the Endless, to hold him hostage for more than thirty years, something far more was at play than a simple mundane turned magician.  

~!~

Pulling up to the mansion, Magnus slipped on one of his favorite arrogant personas, glad to see that Hob followed his lead without question, introducing himself as Sir Robert Gadling.  Magnus grinned at him as they were led to a foyer to await the arrival of The Magus himself.  "Sir?"  

"Been a few centuries, but still accurate enough," Hob shot back.  "What's the plan?"  

"Incapacitate and move," Magnus repeated, reassuring himself.  He twisted a ring around his finger, tucking the diamond between his fingers, then spinning it around again as they waited.

Hob nodded and settled into one of the chairs, leaning back against it.  "You're armed right?"  

Magnus slanted him a glance.  "I have magic."  

Hob raised an eyebrow.  

Magnus really did like the man, damn him.  A pity that he was so gone for one of the Endless. "Of course I am.  This cane isn't only for show."  

"Good," Hob said and turned to the door as footsteps approached, lurching back to his feet. When a man swept in, wearing a red velvet robe, an imperious expression on his face, he glanced at Magnus and caught the man barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  Well, at least they were on the same page there.  

"Magus," Magnus said, giving him a nod.  "It is a pleasure to meet you."  

"And it is a pleasure to meet one so versed in occult literature as yourself, Magnus Bane.  And you mentioned your friend..." Roderick Burgess frowned at the other man.  

"Sir Robert Gadling, and a pleasure to meet you," Hob smiled, dark and more than a little vicious.  "You could say that I am the means by which Mr. Bane acquires some of his literature."  

Magnus wished that he had thought of that, because now Burgess relaxed entirely, his face smoothing out as he had what he thought a measure of them both.  Magnus was the wealth, his knight the muscle as they traveled.  He met squinting eyes and raised his own.  Reaching into the bag that he had brought, he pulled out an old tome, a spellbook that he kept around for situations such as this.  "The literature I mentioned."  

"You understand that I am a practitioner, not a collector, Mr. Bane," Roderick said, taking the tome.  "If this is of no use..."  

"I have been assured," Magnus said, clearing his throat.  "That you will find it more than adequate for your purposes."  He sank into the chair that Burgess gestured to and waited for the footsteps outside the door that had clearly been listening to fade.  Behind him, Hob tensed, and Magnus kept his attention forward, his expression lazy.  "We can negotiate cost, of course."  

By the eager flipping of pages, Magnus knew that he had the man.  There was a great deal in there that could be very dangerous in the hands of a mundane, but the book was spelled to return to his loft in the next few hours, or at his command, so there was no chance it would remain in any possession not his own.  A fancy bit of spellwork that he was rather proud of.  

"What are you asking for it?" Roderick snapped, pausing on a particular page, tracing his fingers over runes.  "I will pay handsomely."  

"Fifty thousand," Magnus said without pause, meeting Burgess' raised eyebrows with a guileless smile.  "I could be persuaded to drop it to thirty if you are willing to tell, or perhaps show me the truth of this demon that you keep in your basement.  I am an expert in demonology, as a result of my work, you see?"  

Burgess grunted.  "Rumors are vicious things."  

"Your interest in the Andemic runes and Enochian says otherwise," Magnus said, his voice bland as Burgess shot him a much more searching look.  He offered a smile.  "I do my research, Magus.  I knew what to bring you of value, did I not?"  

"So you did," Burgess agreed.  "But there is no demon in the basement.  So fifty it will be."  

Magnus sighed, glancing at the ceiling.  Of course it couldn't be that easy.  Which meant it was time to stop playing nice.  "I'm afraid that just won't do."  He stood up and sent a wave of magic at the Magus, knocking him unconscious, banishing the book back to his loft, before he turned to Hob, who was already on his feet, gun in hand.  

"Shoot first, ask questions later," Magnus ordered.  "And cover my back, for the love of Lilith, because he's had someone here to put wards up."  

"You got it," Hob said, pulling a second out of an inner pocket.  "Lead the way."  

Magnus stepped out of the study on silent feet.  Normally, he would have cast a glamor, but whoever had had the building warded had suspected something as easy as a glamor could be used, and there were hedge witches who could perform such magics, which meant that they were going to have to do this the old fashioned way.  Hopefully, Ragnor would forgive him for the paperwork mess he was about to cause.  

They moved through the mansion quickly, and Magnus followed the weight of the magic that got heavier and heavier as he approached it.  "Fuck, whatever the hell they're using to keep him down there, it's tied to the damn ley lines," he muttered, stopping in front of an old wooden door, the whole thing shimmering with magic.  

Hob stepped up to Magnus' back, looking down both sides of the hallway, and across the hallway at the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.  "You had to pick the most indefensible spot ever, didn't you?"  

"Be quiet," Magnus ordered.  "And be ready to run."  He pressed his palms to the doorway and watched as the warding, bright and intricate, lit up.  He focused his magic on the cracks of the mortar, the very foundations of the house just outside the wards themselves, and started to pull, a roar from his magic beginning to echo.  There were shouts, further down the house, and as he focused on pulling at the door, two shots behind him.  

"Hurry," Hob shouted, his eyes darting around.  "There's going to be more of them, and they're going to see those bodies right quick."  

Magnus snarled and gave up with the finesse, shoving his magic in a brute force blue wave of magic at the door, tearing it and the warding to pieces.  A violent, shriek ripped across his magic, but Magnus ignored it.  "Go!" he shouted, dashing into the stone staircase.  A chill ran up his spine at the faint white glow he could see from below.  

Hob dashed behind Magnus, the both of them charging down the stairs at a run.  They were going to have to fight their way out, that was clear, and damn this was not going to be fun.  He turned and shot the first guard to turn the corner to try to stop them and kept running, hitting the bottom and leaping to tackle the man pointing a gun at Magnus.  It went off, but the bullet went wide, and there was a curse and the sound of another body hitting the floor.  

Hob checked to make sure they were both down, and not moving, before he turned to the glass... prison.  His friend was there, standing, naked, emaciated, his dark eyes burning.  He stepped forward, the gun falling to his side, his heart aching.  His friend mouthed his name, shock clear on his features.  He swallowed hard and nodded, walking closer, before he remembered himself and turned to Magnus.  "How do we get him out?"  

Magnus didn't look at the Endless for more than a second to assess his condition and to flash his eyes so they understood each other.  The fact that he felt no return gesture of power meant nothing good.  He stepped closer and looked at the sigils that had been etched and painted into the floor.  There were shouts at the staircase above and he studied them.  He started to swear as he read exactly what they were doing to the Endless inside the glass prison.  

"Break the damn glass!" Hob shouted.  

"That won't do a fucking thing," Magnus snarled back, his eyes still on the runes.  "These are what's binding him, and there's a fucking seal on them-”

"Created by you, Mr. Bane, aren't they?"  

Magnus inhaled sharply at the sound of Roderick Burgess and looked at the two warlocks flanking him that were walking down the stairs.  He turned back to Dream of the Endless in the cage, at the resignation settling into his eyes, and snarled, glaring at the runes on the ground.  One of them caught his eye and he shaped his mouth around the letter.  

Ki.

It was Ki.  Not Kai.  

Which meant it would hold a being of angelic, or other power, such as an Endless...

Magnus' eyes spun back to the Endless in the cage.  Hob had stepped between him and the approaching warlocks and Magnus prayed he'd put enough magic in the rubies as he threw his hands out, letting out a blast of golden light that froze them in their places.  "Hob, you with me?"  

"Yeah, fuck, what the hell was-"

"I cannot hold them for long, listen to me," Magnus snarled.  "You remember what I told you about what you're wearing?"  

"Yeah, of course, why?" Hob glanced behind him.  "We still have to get him out of there."  

"Listen," Magnus snapped the word, well aware the glamor was gone on his eyes and Hob was staring.  "Take him and run.  Do not stop running.  They know what he is and they will not hesitate to steal him from Burgess and use him for their own ends.  It will spell the end of the world as we know it.  Run as far, and as fast as you can.  Do not stop.  I will find you."  

"What the hell are you going to do?" Hob shot back, watching as the gold that was holding the other men in place started to waver.  

"Something very, very, very ill-advised," Magnus said, turning back to Dream of the Endless.  His eyes were sparkling with galaxies and there was barely banked fury in them. He took one hand and sent off a spark of violent red flame, then another. "I cannot bring it all with you.  I want to, but I cannot.  I will return it, but it will take time.  I am sorry," he barely managed the words before he slammed his hands down on the glass and began chanting.  

The second he could feel the Endless' power through the cage, Magnus grabbed onto it, and heard the scream of pain it caused, before he yanked, with all of his might, shoving himself forward at the same time, keeping the gap in the sigil open long enough for Dream of the Endless to trade places with him.  

Magnus stumbled to his knees in the glass and iron cage, the binding spell restricting his magic to a trickle, glad that Hob had reacted quickly enough to grab Dream.  "Run!" he shouted.  "Run, now!"  

Hob swore and grabbed Dream's hand, ripping the cufflinks off his wrist.  "Fuck!"  They didn't have a better plan and he ran towards Burgess and the two people he could already tell he didn't want to mess with.  He threw the cufflinks down and watched as red ropes reached out to snare all three of them, pulling them down, and making them scream.  Hob drew out a gun and turned to grab Dream to his side, sprinting up the stairs.  

Magnus Bane had told him to run, and he was going to run.  Hob looked down at his friend, at the hazy, pained blue of his eyes, and ran, with everything that he was.  

Chapter Text

Hob switched cars for the third time in the last three hours, driving them to the ferry to France, his hands tight on the wheel.  His friend, wearing clothes that didn't fit him well, but they were what Magnus had had available, had not said a word, curled inside the coat he'd been left.  "We need to get you food, and water.  As soon as we're on the ferry, I'll get some there."  He thought about Magnus trapped in the glass sphere.  His friend still hadn't said a word, and had managed nothing more than nods.  

"Are you hurt?" He asked, for what felt like the hundredth time, looking at his friend, who tightened his hands on the sides of the jacket, holding it shut tight over him.  "I need to know if you need first aid."  

"Hurt is not the right word."  

Hob sagged in relief at the quiet words, as concerning as they were.  They were something, and that meant the world.  "What did he do?  How'd he, he switch the two of you like that?"  

Silence, minutes stretching out as Hob brought them to the border, handing over enough to ensure no questions would be asked before he abandoned the car and stepped onto the ferry as a pedestrian.  "We'll get another car once we're in France, come on," he coaxed, opening the door for Dream, holding out his hand, tugging his friend with him.  "We need to leave this one behind."  

Heading to the bow of the ship where they would at least be alone and he'd be able to see anyone coming from more than thirty feet away, Hob let some of the tension fall out of his shoulders when no one appeared to be following them or paying any attention to them, really.  

"He abused a mistranslation in the binding spell," Dream answered.  "It was enough for him to pull out enough of my essence that I would have a form that he replaced with himself.  It, it has left me... without much of what I am."  He shuddered and pulled the coat tighter.  

Hob thought back to those few frantic seconds that Magnus had apologized to his friend, the regret real in his voice that he couldn't bring more through.  "Okay.  What do you need?"  

Dream inhaled a slow breath.  "He was correct about running.  In this state, I cannot protect you."  

"More worried about protecting you right now, duck," Hob said, standing close to Dream.  "Once we're sure that we're not being followed and we've gotten some distance, I'll make some calls and see about springing him-"

"That won't be necessary," Dream stated.  "He has summoned reinforcements already."  Another shudder ran up his spine.  

Hob blinked and frowned.  "How do you know that?"  He shook himself.  "Doesn't matter.  He'll be able to get out?"  

"The cage is not meant to hold him.  He is there because it can, but only temporarily," Dream said.   He glanced to the side.  "Hob Gadling. How did you-" A caw cut him off and his head jerked upward.  

Hob looked up and saw Jessamy flying closer, sagging in relief.  "Fuck, I'm glad you caught up with us, we need eyes in the air."  He watched her dive in against Dream's shoulder and snuggle into him immediately, some of the clear tension melting off his face.

“You know her?” Dream asked, turning his attention to Hob.

“Yeah,” Hob said with a relieved laugh. “She found me, after she found out what happened to you.”  

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Jessamy said.  “Then I almost lost you when you left.  Where’s Magnus?”  

Hob winced and pushed his fingers through his hair.  “We’ll catch you up once we’re across the border.  We have a lot of driving ahead of us.”  

“My lord, you must return to the Dreaming,” Jessamy said.  “They need you.”  

Dream forced him to take an inhale.  “Jessamy.  Please inform Lucienne I will return as soon as I am able.  I cannot, yet.”  

Jessamy let out a caw.  “Why not?”  

Dream stuffed a hand that was curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm hard enough to break the skin.  “Go,” he ordered, glad when she didn’t question the tone of his voice and darted off.  

"Should be nice," Hob said, his voice light.  "Only reason that I found you.  Granted, Magnus was coming to get you anyways, since he thought you might be a warlock, but."  He shrugged.  "She's why I knew where you were."  

"She overstepped," Dream said, pulling out his hand to scowl at the faint rings of crescent red on his palm.  Had he been himself, there would be no injury.  

"Why didn't you tell me your hand was hurt?" Hob asked, pulling a kerchief out of his pocket, immediately tying it around Dream's palm, pressing it to the wounds.  "Don't want this getting infected."  

Dream glared down at his hand that should not be bleeding at all and didn't deign that with an answer.  He needed to return to the Dreaming, he needed his power back, his tools and symbols of office, and he needed- he yawned, frowning.  

Hob smiled and stood a little closer.  "Thought you might be tired.  It's not a long ride across the channel.  If you want to sleep-"  

"I don't need to sleep," Dream said, his words a quiet snarl.  

"Normally you might not need to, but you're clearly worn down and exhausted right now," Hob shot back.  "So let's get a warm drink in you, some food, and find a corner we can call our own until we're there."  

Dream scowled.  "I do not need those things."  

Hob snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Whatever happened back there, I think what your normal standards of need need to be reassessed for the time being until Magnus finishes whatever the hell he's doing.  In the meantime, I'm going to keep you safe, and healthy, which means feeding you."  When his friend offered up no protest, he gave a nod.  "All right, come on."  

~!~

By the time the binding spell that Hob had released on Burgess and the warlocks wore off, Magnus hoped that Ragnor had sounded the alarm.  He watched them step closer, his magic slowly coming back in at a trickle.  There was no fresh air in the cage, and Magnus knew he didn't have long before he began to suffocate in a very unpleasant fashion.  The two warlocks on either side of Burgess were not ones he recognized, but based on the looks in their eyes, they recognized him, and that was never a good thing.  

"So, who are you really?" Roderick Burgess said.  "And how am I going to use you?"  

Magnus smiled at him, dark and vicious.  "What makes you think you're not the one being used? You think you mean anything to them?" He gestured to the two warlocks, who scowled immediately.  "I assure you, you're nothing."  

A little more power and he'd be able to break out, but the air was starting to thin, and there was no sign of Ragnor, or any sort of cavalry.  He had sent an urgent fire message, hadn't he?  A SOS?  Magnus kept glaring at them, his magic prodding at him, urging him to do something.  He kept his hands tucked into his lap, and twisted his ring around his finger.  If push came to shove, he did have one final option.  

The important thing was that Hob, and his Endless friend were long gone, and there didn't seem to be any immediate desire to chase them down.  That was enough, and it was worth the spots slowly growing at the edges of his vision.  He swallowed, gasping for breath.  

"Was he worth it?" Burgess snarled.  "Suffocating in that prison, was it worth it?"  

Magnus didn't bother answering.  He stripped off the rest of his rings that meant nothing and shoved them into his pockets.  He needed to do this now, before he was out of air.  The pure diamond, harder than any glass, shone at him and he smirked, using the magic he'd stolen into the cage to reinforce his finger and fist.  Smirking up at the bastard who had the nerve to be smirking triumphantly himself, Magnus slammed his fist down, the diamond hitting first, a satisfying crack echoing around the room.  

There was a shout, magic reaching out, but it was rebuffed by the sigil.  Not strong enough to push through like his was.  He punched again, and the crack got bigger.  The black spots were starting to get darker.  Magnus slammed his fist into the glass a third time and the panel beneath him shattered, his chest heaving as he sucked in air.  He landed in the middle of the sigil, glaring at the two warlocks and the human between them.  Now, no longer restrained by the warded glass and iron, there was a wave of power washing into him, filling him, egged on by his anger at what had happened.  

"What are you doing, incapacitate him!" Burgess shouted.  "We can't let him get away!"  

Magnus let out a low chuckle, looking at them all, his glamor down as he took a step closer.  "That's your biggest mistake," he breathed, power gathering around his fingertips.  There was a flood of more power, the power that had been left behind by someone else that was sinking into him, setting him on fire with the weight of it, calling out to him to use it, to take the Endless' place, but he shoved that aside and focused on the magic he knew.  He would keep his oath and return the power that belonged to Dream of the Endless to him.  Once he found him, of course.  

But in the meantime.  

Magnus turned his attention to the two warlocks and the man standing between them right as there was a shout of his name from the doorway above.  Magic, desperate and wild, flooded down into the basement and Magnus smirked at the three of them.  He looked at the warlocks, who were afraid for the first time.  

"Darlings, I hate to break it to you, but you're under arrest, by the order of the Clave.  I hope that you enjoy your now permanent stay in the Gard for the violation of the Accords Secrecy statute."  He watched as they both turned to try to escape, but the shadowhunters were there, Ragnor leading them down the staircase, and it was only moments before they were in custody.  

Magnus sank down into the middle of the binding circle with a huff and focused on containing the power that wanted to rage within him, that demanded more, and... called out to other things in the manor.  He rubbed at his temples and shuddered under the weight of it.  When Ragnor stepped closer, Magnus held out his hand to keep him from coming too close.  

"My darling friend," Ragnor started, his eyes studying the floor worriedly.  "Why have you not left the binding circle?"  

Magnus swallowed, a fission of fear running up his spine.  "I can't, yet," he said.  "You're going to have to break it the old-fashioned way, then I'm going to have to try to find someone who doesn't want to be found."  He glanced behind Ragnor, but thankfully the shadowhunters had left with their hostages.  "And hope that I don't get ripped apart in the meantime."  

Ragnor's eyes widened.  "What?"  

Magnus' voice softened.  "They captured an Endless, Ragnor.  Not a warlock, not a demon, not a Prince of Hell.  One of the Endless was here."  

Ragnor swore, loudly and in a dozen languages before he turned to look back at Magnus, who was giving him a wry smile.  "What did you do?"  

"I kept them safe, and got them out," Magnus said.  "Don't ask me more, I won't tell you.  But I have to give what I have back to him, or it's going to kill me.  It's not mine, and it wants back to him."  

"Can't you just... let it go?" Ragnor asked, gathering magic into his hands as he started to unweave the sealing ward.  "Let it go back to him?"  

Magnus shuddered under the weight of a sudden pull, yanking the power back and away from the one who was trying to take it.  "Not that easy," he panted.  "There are others who are trying to take pieces of it.  I have to give him back as much of it as I can."  

Ragnor sighed and shook his head.  "Well let me get you out of here.  Is there anything else we need to do?"  

"Other than loot every valuable thing this bastard has?" Magnus snapped.  "No.  Not a thi..." he paused, looking upstairs, frowning.  Something in him reached out and he tilted his head a fraction.  "I lied.  We... I need what's in his safe."  He rubbed his temples.  "Fuck.  This is going to be complicated."

“How long do you have?” Ragnor asked, getting the first and second layers of seal away, before working on removing the runes etched into the stone.  “Before it begins to rip at the fabric of you.”  

Magnus pressed a hand to his chest with a grunt.  “Probably three days.  If I don’t find them before then, well.  He’ll get it back either way.”  

“Can you portal to them?” Ragnor asked, grunting as he finally managed to pry up one of the stones and toss it away, watching as Magnus sagged in relief.  “Where did you send them?” 

“Away,” Magnus said, standing and stepping out of the circle, glad when Ragnor destroyed the rest of it in a flash of magic.  “I suspect I know where he was taken, and I’ll head in that direction once I have what’s in the house here.”  The power inside him roared, an achingly huge, desperate thing, and Magnus stumbled, glad when Ragnor grabbed and steadied him.  He shuddered and closed his eyes.

Ragnor frowned.  “I will go with-” 

“No,” Magnus held up his hand and trembled.  “He will see that as a betrayal of my demand for secrecy to protect him.”  He took another deep breath and looked up at the house, at the siren call of what was waiting there.  “They’re not all here,” he whispered, frowning.  

Ragnor glanced up and back down to Magnus, whose eyes were starting to go worryingly black.  “Magnus.  What isn’t here?”  

Magnus shook himself hard and summoned a cane to his fingertips, digging his hand into the handle to help him focus.  “Something is missing and we will need to find it.”  He took another slow breath and nodded to Ragnor.  “I think portaling to them will risk an expulsion of power that would… not end well.”  Another breath.  “Come, we’ve got work to do.”  

~!~

By the time they got to France, and Hob had met a few of his shadier contacts to procure a vehicle for them, his friend was clearly about to fall asleep.  The sight prompted a few additional questions, and several more bills, before they had a location for the evening.  Pushing his fingers through his hair, he made his way back over to his friend, his eyes flicking to Jessamy who was perched out on the edge of a house, keeping watch.  

“Come, we’ve got a car and a bit of a drive before we stop for a few hours.”  On reflex, Hob tapped the pills in his pocket that would help him stay awake, because if they were being chased, he sure as hell wasn’t going to fall asleep and risk his friend being recaptured.  He tightened his hand on the wheel and left his window door open until Jessamy had flown in, crashing into his friend’s lap, before he climbed in himself.  

“Where are we going?” Dream asked, carefully petting over Jessamy’s feathers, looking down at her.  He drew in a slow, shaky breath, blinking slow.  “Do you need to stop?” 

Hob shook his head.  “I don’t, but you do.  We have to change clothes, eat, and you need to sleep.”  

Dream’s voice was thunderous.  “I don’t sleep.”  

“Yeah, we’ve already had that conversation,” Hob said, rolling his eyes, and turning the car on.  “But you’ve nearly fallen asleep on me twice now, and until Magnus finds us and-” he paused, a flutter in the air making him look over his shoulder.  His eyes widened as a flash of fire shot through the car and he grabbed at it, only to have a letter appear in his hand.  

“What the…” Hob stared at it, blinking.  He focused on the message, the majority of which was in a language he didn’t even recognize, making him narrow his eyes.  But there was a sentence on the top, in swirling cursive.  He turned the car on and started to drive, clenching the letter in his fist.  It had to be from Magnus, and whatever message he had for his friend had to be important.  

He glanced at the man (not a man) sitting in the seat beside him, unnaturally still.  “It’s from Magnus,” he explained, looking at it again.  “I’m to hold it out for you to read.  You cannot touch it, in case they track it.  He said it’s urgent.”  Holding onto the wheel with one hand, Hob held it out to Dream.  “What language is that?”  

Dream inhaled sharply.  “Chthonic,” he answered.  “It is one of the rarest languages in the Waking World.”  His eyes traced over the words and studied them carefully.  “It is the language of the highest Hell Realms.  Strange that he knows it.”  He read through the message and stiffened, a low growl escaping.  

“What’s wrong?” Hob asked, his attention drifting from the road to his friend.  “Is he unable to follow us?”  

Dream leaned back against the seat and looked down at Jessamy.  “He advised me to inform you of what he has found.”  

Hob raised his eyebrows.  “Had you been planning not to tell me what’s going on?”  

“You are in danger, the more you know,” Dream answered.  

“That’s a shit reason and you know it.  I already know you’re one of the Endless, whatever those are, but I said I wanted to know anything else from you,” Hob snapped, glancing at him.  “And had I known more, or had I been known to those closest to you-” he gestured to Jessamy.  “-I would have been able to come for you much sooner.”  

Dream was silent.  

Hob sighed and took a deep breath, focusing on the read again.  “I understand you want, and even need to keep your secrets.”  He paused and took a turn, heading deeper into the countryside.  “I also understand that you do this to keep yourself safe, and hell, I even understand if you are still angry about 1889.”  Both Jessamy and his friend were silent.  

“But what I need you to understand?” Hob paused, looking over at him.  He reached out and touched his friend’s arm, just the smallest amount, drawing his gaze.  “You are my oldest, and dearest friend.  That is not going to change.  And while I know I must be some sort of insignificant speck to you, you’re important to me, and whatever you want to share I want to know.”  He paused again, before continuing.  

“However, right now, none of that matters.  What matters is keeping you safe.  Magnus made sure I understood your capture is a matter of life and death for far more than you and I before he swapped you in that prison.”  Hob glanced at him.  “So you need to tell me enough to keep you safe.  The rest?  Fine, and you can go back to being furious with me as soon as we’re-” he turned into a house and pulled into the covered garage in the back.  “-safe,” he finished, parking the car.  

Hob grabbed the rest of the things he’d purchased from the back, taking the bottle of pills out of his pocket, knocking one back before tucking the bottle away again.  His friend was climbing out of the car carefully, slowly, and clearly exhausted.  It’s easy enough, thankfully, to get him inside, to get a meal (and tea) in front of them both, before they took a few minutes to breathe easier.  

The hunger that was gnawing at his belly was distracting, and Dream scowled, availing himself of the food.  “Magnus found two of my tools in the Burgess mansion.”  A shudder rolled down his spine and he picked up the teacup, sipping at it carefully.  “They are vitally important and dangerous.  He is working with his friend to find the third.”  

“Is that… good news?” Hob asked, taking a large bite of his sandwich.  

“It is simply what he relayed,” Dream answered.  “I have, and shall, receive them back.”  The words had been blunt and eloquent.  

“My friend,” Hob said quietly, watching Dream.  “Who, and what, are you, precisely?  Why would your capture by those other warlocks spell doom for the world as Magnus told me?”  

Dream glanced to Jessamy and took in the caw of concern that she made.  “Return to the Dreaming and update Lucienne on our progress, Jessamy.  She will be pleased to know I can return as soon as I have my tools.”  

Hob watched as the raven took off without a word and turned his attention to his friend, raising his eyebrows.  “You could have just referred to-” 

“I have many names,” Dream interrupted, his voice soft.  “The King of Dreams.  I am Morpheus, Onieros, and by another name I would have you use, Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless.”  He tightened his fingers around the utensil and spun it in his fingers.  “My kingdom is the Dreaming, where all those with consciousness go when they sleep, and I am their collective, an anthropomorphic personification of those dreams.”  

Hob swallowed, staring at his friend, at Morpheus, fuck, his friend was a god, or, or something similar.  “That’s going to take me a second,” he admitted.  “What did Burgess, what did those warlocks want with you?”  

Dream took another sip of his tea.  “Burgess wished for immortality, for power.  Things that were not in my ability to give.”  He paused.  “The warlocks… would have chained my power and used it to command me.  In a world where dreams could be chained to a single individual…” 

“No wonder Magnus told me to run,” Hob breathed, looking down at his food.  

“Not only that,” Dream said, bringing Hob’s attention up again.  “He has put himself into grave danger.  He could not… bring all my power with me.  It was trapped within the circle, and now it sits in him.  It is tearing him apart, slowly.”  

“It’s what?  How do we help him?”  Hob sat up, at full attention.  “I can’t let him die after he’s the reason you’re out!”  

Dream watched Hob, his lips twitching.  “If he hurries here, and I recover my tools of office, I can take the power back without causing harm to him.  The longer he keeps it, the more it will rip him apart.”  

Hob frowned.  “You mean that… literally, don’t you?”  

“Yes.”  

“Well, hopefully, he has a way of doing that,” Hob said.  “In the meantime, I’m still planning to take you as far from England as we can get.  I have safe houses along the way like this one that we can-” 

Dream frowned.  “Why are you doing this?”  

Hob blinked and stared at him.  “What?”  

“This.  Why are you… doing this?”  Dream asked.  

Hob shrugged.  “You need help.  And I am always willing to help you however I can.”  He paused and offered a small smile.  “Do you prefer Morpheus or Dream?  I’m not calling you King of Dreams, even if that is a title.”  

Dream’s lips twitched.  “Dream.”  

“Dream it is then,” Hob said with a nod.  “Now you need to sleep, and get a few hours rest before we head out again.”  

“What of you?”  

“I’ll sleep when Magnus finds us, or when we’re safe and can stay safe,” Hob said with a wave of his hand.  “I’m not about to risk something happening to you.”  

Dream scowled.  “You need to sleep.  Humans need to sleep.”  

Hob couldn’t help grinning.  “Humans can also go without sleep for a little while to keep a friend safe.”  

Blinking slowly, Dream watched Hob Gadling smile wider.  “Friends,” he repeated.  

Hob tensed, doing his best not to squirm under the intent look from Dream before he cleared his throat.  “Come on, I’ll show you where you can lie down.”  

“Wait,” Dream said, reaching out to grab Hob Gadling by the wrist.  He took a slow, shuddering breath.  “I, I owe you an apology.  For how I left us.”  

Hob paused, turning to look back at Dream, standing in front of him.  He smiled faintly and did not pull his hand away.  “I’m listening.”  

Dream took a deep breath and tightened the jacket around his shoulders.  “I am sorry for storming out on you, Hob.  You were right.  We are friends.  And I am…” he paused and shuddered, tightening his hold on the jacket.  “I am beyond grateful that you still considered me as such to come to my rescue.  When I am restored, any boon within my power to offer is yours.”  

“Come here, you idiot,” Hob muttered, pulling Dream closer and into the circle of his arms, holding onto the man who was stiffer than a board until he finally started to relax by a fraction.  “You’re forgiven,” he whispered into the soft black hair that was tickling his nose.  “I don’t need a gift, or some sort of boon, or similar.  I don’t need whatever you can offer me as the mostly all-powerful being you are.”  

“Hob-” 

“All I need,” Hob interrupted, giving Dream a faint squeeze.  “Is for you to stay safe, and for you to be my friend.  That’s all I need.  Understand?”  

Dream stared at him, frowning.  “I wish to thank you for the service you have done, Hob Gadling.” 

Hob carefully unwound himself from around Dream and met his friend’s eyes, smiling at him.  “You already have.  But tell you what.  I’ll ask for this.”  He could feel Dream bring his full attention forward, and what little power he did have was immediately brought to bear in the room.  “I want to see you more than once every hundred years.  That is what I would like as a thank you.”  

Dream blinked.  He stared at the serious expression on Hob Gadling’s face.   “This… is what you’d ask of me?”  

“If you’re willing,” Hob said, smiling.  “I don’t want to force you to if you truly do not wish to meet more than our centennial meetings.”  

Dream let out a small breath, his fingertips trembling.  “I-” the sound of footsteps outside the door had them both freezing.  

Hob held up his finger to his mouth and pulled a gun out of the holster at the small of his back, turning toward the door.  More footsteps now.  His eyes widened and he cursed.  So much for getting sleep for either of them.  

“Oi, Gadling, if you turn the posh bastard over, we’ll give you a cut!  They just want ‘im!” 

Hob bit down a snarl, tightening his hand on the gun.  He swore under his breath and looked to Dream, who he had no doubt could fight, but right now a stiff breeze would blow him over.  He waited until he heard the door be kicked open, tucking him and Dream back against the wall.  Four sets of footsteps and six shots.  He could do it.

Another noise, an odd whirring had him tensing, and the sharp inhale from Dream told him it was likely about to get worse.  

“They’re here, just behind that wall.  Be careful, they’re armed, and if you get shot, I won’t be healing you, or your type,” the arrogant voice said.  

Hob pointed to the window, about to order Dream to get to the car and gun it, get the hell out of there, when there was another whirring, to their immediate left, with a tall man carrying a bow and arrow and several dozen knives stepping through.  He clocked them and Hob lowered the gun only to blink in surprise when the man winked at them and kept walking into the living room where the others were.  

“Who the hell are you?!” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shadowhunters!”  

Hob barely heard the differentiating shouts before the sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath echoed, then movement.  He stepped around the corner and ducked away from the man fighting on their side, firing two shots, taking down two of the men, then the third, who had magic swirling around his hands.  He dove to the floor as a colored ball shot at him, but there was a wall of blue magic in front of him and he frowned, blinking at it.  

“What are you?  Abomination!”  

Hob watched the man fighting with them laugh, bright and happy, before disposing of the other warlock with a swipe of his blade.  He moved to the doorway and turned the gun on the man and breathed in deep.  “Who are you?”  

The man turned to him and finished cleaning his blades before sheathing them, lifting up his hands and offering another smile.  “My name is Alec Lightwood-Bane, and I’m here to help you.”  

Chapter Text

Magnus stared at the safe in front of him, warded with a spell that he had never seen before in his life, but he could tell would attempt to destroy the contents inside if he tried to open it.  At the same time, he could feel the objects inside that were calling out to the power that he had taken from Dream of the Endless, demanding reclamation.  He let out a slow breath and reached out to touch the lock.  

The safe needed to be unlocked, and the objects, the two inside, needed to be safely removed.  He wasn't sure how he was going to go about doing that yet, but he also knew it wasn't possible for him to leave.  Ragnor was in the process of tracking down the last, larger item.  But the two in here were important.  He stroked his fingers down the edge of the safe and shuddered at the feel of the power just beyond it.  

He tapped on the lock and closed his eyes, breathing slowly.  He couldn't use magic on the safe itself, not trying to brute force it open, but he could pull sense memories from it if he was very, very careful.  Magnus tugged gently on the fingerprints that were on the dial, pulling them, the worn and touched pieces, the untouched ones.  Like a movie playing in front of his eyes, he pulled on it, steadily and gently.  

Three digits.  The first was a single.  Magnus turned the dial, slowly, carefully, until he felt the faint tick under his fingertip.  Then, a full rotation before slowing.  He did that, his chest barely rising with each breath he took as he carefully, gently, rotated it, click by click.  The faint snap that told him he'd hit the second latch made him freeze and it took several long seconds before he followed after the ghost of the memory.  

Almost there.  Almost.  The pounding demand of the magic beyond his fingertips was guiding him now, wisps of shadow around his fingers that spun the dial and then slowed it at last, guiding him until he felt the exact moment.  Magnus lifted his fingers off the safe and pulled it open with relief, the spell dissipating a second later.  

Inside were two small items, and just looking at them made his head ache.  The small pouch of what felt like sand, Magnus tucked away into his inner jacket pocket, carefully spelling it into concealment.  Whatever it was, he wouldn't look at it again until it was safely in Dream of the Endless' hands.  

The second...

The ruby gleamed.  Magnus stared at it, and like this, he could see the shadows and magic sinking into the gem, leaving it fractured and corrupted.  The power in him called out to it, demanded that he take it, that he step into the role the two were together, but he knew that the ruby would reject him if he tried.  He reached out for the chain and grunted as the tainted power tried to reach him.  

With a twist of his fingertips, he summoned a wooden case and dropped the ruby into it, sealing it shut moments later, cutting off the corruption leaking into the air.  "Fuck," Magnus breathed, leaning against the bookcase, trying to breathe as he looked out at the window.  He needed to get moving, and he needed someone to come assess the library while Ragnor was hunting down the third item. 

Magnus summoned parchment to his fingertips and sent it off a moment later.  That would have the library taken care of, and the shadowhunters were preventing anyone from arriving at the premises.  He let out another breath and pushed his hair out of his face, struggling to his feet.  The weight of the magic roiling in him felt impossibly large and he needed to get a move on before he wasn't able to catch up at all.  

Thankfully, he could feel the magnetic pull of Dream of the Endless, and all he had to do was follow it, until he found the man again.  Hopefully, before he shattered apart under the weight of this power.  Magnus slipped into the car Ragnor had brought and began to drive toward London.  He would need to get across the channel and get back to the city and his townhouse to gather a few additional items before heading out.  And make arrangements.  Just in case.

The hours ahead of him were bound to be long ones, but he would catch up to wherever Hob Gadling was taking Dream of the Endless, or he would get as close as possible before the magic devoured him.  Lowering the window to let the cool air hit his face, Magnus accelerated and drove.  Ragnor would keep him apprised of all other happenings as he worked to track down what was a helm of some sort.  

~!~

Hob glanced at Dream and then back to the man standing in front of him.  "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" he asked, frowning.  "Because right now it sure as hell doesn't."  

Alec kept his hands up.  "If you ask the Endless behind you, he can tell you that I am soaked in Magnus' magic.  I'm his husband from-"

"The future," Dream finished, his eyes narrowed.  "Why are you here?"  

Alec gave a wry grin.  "Well, when one of your older siblings tells me to walk through a door or both my husband and two people he considers friends are going to die?  I walk through the door."  He shrugged.  "I didn't want to risk asking questions."  

Dream blinked and frowned.  "You... know of us?"  

"Married to Magnus," Alec repeated, watching him.  "So yes, I know precisely who you are, and who your sibling is.  Hell, your older sister and I meet for a drink once in a while after I caught sight of her at a battlefield or six."  

Hob had never seen Dream look as shocked as he did at that particular moment, but his mind was still stuck on one very important thing.  "You're from the future?"  

Alec's lips twitched.  "Yes."  

"How is that possible?"  Hob asked.  "And more importantly, how are you going to get home?"

"Don't worry about me," Alec said, shaking his head.  "I've got ways, and Magnus can pull me back when I'm ready.  The more important thing we have to do is keep the two of you safe."  He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.  "Now, where's Magnus?"  

Dream and Hob shared a brief look and it was Dream who stepped forward to meet Alec Lightwood-Bane's eyes.  "We need to be on our way.  He's in danger, but he will catch up soon, by his own words."  

Alec nodded once.  "Lead the way."  

Hob led the way back to the car after grabbing enough food and water for the three of them, watching as Dream climbed into the front seat, and Alec into the back, before he settled behind the wheel.  He tightened his hands on it and took a deep breath.  "Okay.  We're going to assume all of my safehouses are compromised.  Which means... fuck, which means we're going to have to change cars again."  

"I can help," Alec said, sitting up.  "We're in France, right?"  He wrinkled his nose.  "We can stay at any of Magnus' places, and it'll let him know where we are, since he needs to catch up with us."  

Dream frowned.  "His homes will be warded and not open to us."  

Alec held up his hand, his wedding ring gleaming.  "Magnus' magic will let me in.  It recognizes its counterpart.  Also if push comes to shove, I can magic my way in using his magic.  That'll set off alarms, but I can shut it down."  As the car started, he leaned back against the seat.  "Want me to burn the house down?"  

Hob blinked, his mouth falling open as he looked at the tall man with tattoos in the back seat.  "You can do that?"  

Stepping out of the car, Alec drew an arrow and lit the end of it with magic, and fired it into the house, setting it wildly ablaze in less than a minute before he was in the car again.  He settled against the seat, his bow in his lap.  "We should get moving.  Magnus has several safe houses in Europe.  We need to get to the next one."  

Deciding that the inquisition could wait until they were on the way, Hob pulled back out onto the road.  Dream was quiet and contemplative, but thankfully uninjured and that was what was most important as they made their way toward the coast now.  Reaching out, he touched Dream on the arm, making him startle.  "You should rest," he coaxed.  

Dream shook his head and turned to stare out the open window.  "I do not need to sleep."  He dug his fingers into his arm.  

Alec yawned and closed his eyes, settling back against the door.  "Sleeping is a good idea.  Hob's too wired to do anything but gun the engine for a while, and you're going to need to start recovering your magic.  I can help you, but only a little bit until after Magnus is here."  

Dream's turned, staring at the creature in the backseat of the car.  "You can what?"  

Alec lifted his hand and magic swirled around his fingertips.  "Help fill it back up.  You're drained right now, that's why you didn't help your friend to take down those guys back there, right?"  

"I am not a, a bucket to be filled," Dream seethed, his teeth clenched together. 

Alec grew serious and looked at the two of them, before he sat up in the back of the car, looking in the rearview.  “I understand,” he said simply, tensing when headlights appeared moments later.  “However fast this car can go, you’re going to want to make that happen.”  He reached out, rolling down the window, sliding his upper half out of it.  

“How do you know they’re following us?”  Hob asked, looking in his mirror.  

Alec tugged his bow out the window and braced himself.  "They're driving a faster car, I can't see any of the drivers because they're glamoured, and we are all alone on this road otherwise," he explained calmly.  He drew the bow back, two magical arrows shimmering into place.  Aiming carefully, he watched as one sank into the front tire and the car went careening off the road.  "If we can get to one of Magnus' safehouses, his wards will keep us safe."  

Hob glanced over to Dream and frowned.  "What do you think?"  

Dream tensed, a low growl threatening as he stared into his lap.  "You are asking me to trust a warlock I have seen once, who I know nothing about, would dare to keep me safe and not use me for what advantages I can offer?"  

Alec glanced at the two in the car and kept himself leaning out of the window, watching the tail behind them.  

"He rescued you," Hob said.  "By putting himself in your cage."  

Dream snarled.  "And he has not returned yet with my magic.  What do you wish for me to say?"

Hob stared out the window in front of him.  "I think your brother wouldn't have sent him unless it was for a reason," he said, gesturing to the man still hanging out the window of the car.  "Unless you can tell me otherwise?"  

Dream tensed and glared behind him.  He gave a single nod.  "You are correct."  

Hob took the next exit and finally made it back onto a major highway, relaxing when Alec Lightwood-Bane also slid back into his seat as though he had always been there.  He let out a breath and huffed.  "So have you met us in the future?"

Alec blinked and raised an eyebrow.  "You know I can't talk about things."  

Hob waved a hand.  "I don't want specifics, I just want to know if we've had a drink together."  

Alec smiled.  "The first time we met, you despaired when I informed you that I had yet to find a beer or ale that I enjoyed and spent the better part of six months sending me a wide variety of options to try.  You have still not succeeded."  

Hob laughed, his head falling back as some of the tension fell out of his shoulders.  "Sounds about right, but I'm sorry I haven't been successful."  He glanced toward Dream and saw that he no longer appeared to be clenching his teeth together, which was a decided improvement.  "What else?"  

Alec relaxed against the side door.  "You're one of the only people I've ever met who managed to best me in training - which you tricked me into."  He hummed and thought about it.  "When I told you Magnus and I's story... and everything involved, you told me you knew someone who would love that story.  I didn't know who you were talking about until much later."  He gestured to Dream.

Alec tapped his hand on the seat, thinking quietly to himself.  "I visit every couple of months.  We both..." he swallowed, before continuing.  "We both enjoy having an immortal friend."  

Hob's eyes shot up to the rearview and met the sad but knowing hazel eyes in the mirror.  "You're immortal."  

"Yes," Alec answered.  "I wasn't born with magic.  I was born a shadowhunter.  But when Magnus' magic laid claim to me and I welcomed it in, well.  There were some consequences of that."  

"How old are you?" Hob asked.  He could feel Dream listening intently and glanced at him.  

"Two hundred and fifteen now.  And yes, young, by your standards, I know," Alec said with a dismissive hand wave.  "What else?  Oh, you've picked up archery again because you're pissed I can out-shoot you."  

Hob laughed again and smiled, shaking his head.  "Oh, I would have been.  I grew up in the era of practicing every Sunday, for several hours."  

"You did tell me that," Alec said, still smiling.  "I do think you were impressed that I could use a longbow.  Not many do."  

"Why did my brother send you back?"  

Hob tensed and looked over at Dream, who was staring out the open window, but his question had been clear to both of them. The question had clearly been directed at Alec, but a part of him worried at what would be revealed if he answered it.  

“If I understand what your brother is,” Alec started, carefully.  “It is because I was meant to be where I am now.” 

Dream pressed his lips tighter together.  “The risks-” 

“Are substantial,” Alec finished.  “I am aware.  There is a reason I am here, and not Magnus.  I will leave less suspicious evidence.”  

When Dream didn’t answer, Hob turned his attention back to Alec.  “Where am I going?  We need to get to a safehouse.”  

Alec let out a breath and cupped his hands into a ball in front of him, a small spark of magic growing steadily.  He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, before reaching out with Magnus’ magic, feeling it snap out and then snap back.  “Okay, safest one is two hours down the coast.  We’re heading toward Monaco.”  

Hob turned and took the next exit, pushing the car.  “We need to switch cars and change clothes again.”  

Alec nodded.  “All right.  Stay out of major cities.  If I’m spotted by another shadowhunter it will raise too many questions.”  

That was an order that Hob was happy to follow, even if he didn't know what the hell a Shadowhunter was, beyond the obvious implication that the kid gave.  He focused on the road in front of them and pressed the pedal down harder.  "We can change cars not far from here.  I've got plenty of cash on me."  

"And I have plenty of..."  Alec paused, considered, pursed his lips, and sighed, rubbing at his temples.  "I'm beginning to understand why Magnus hates time travel so much."  He pressed a fingertip harder against his brow and took another deep breath.  "I have jewels I can acquire for us if we have need."  

Hob nodded.  "Good."  

"You travel time often?"

Alec looked up at Dream, who had asked the question, almost unwillingly.  He shook his head.  "No, and Angel's above I hope this is the last time for a while.  Magnus was already gone for more than a week two years ago until I could get a tether to him and pull him back."  He rubbed the back of his head.  "We're... well, let's say there are targets on our back and as a result, we've dealt with our fair share of things."  

Dream frowned.  "You know his parentage."  

"Of course I do, I married him," Alec said, leaning back in the seat again, shutting his eyes.  "Hell, I think he invited the two of you to the wedding."  

Dream blinked and turned his attention to Hob, who was driving, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.  "I see."  He closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his head against Hob's shoulder.  Like this, he did not have to look at his reflection in the glass.  

"Rest," Hob ordered, his voice soft.  "I'll wake you as soon as we switch cars."  

Dream didn't bother answering, not when there was already a sense of impending gravity pulling him down, down, down...

~!~

Magnus felt the alert come screaming across his magical senses and nearly ran his car off the road.  He managed to pull off and park, right as the alarm abruptly faded, his magic broadcasting an all-clear.  He frowned and tried to focus his magic, tried to see what the hell had just happened and who had broken into his house in Monaco.  Had someone gone in there looking for Hob and his Endless?  

The car that had been following him for more than three hours pulled into sight of his rearview, and Magnus cursed, starting the engine again, and pulling back onto the road.  He didn't know precisely what was chasing him, but he could feel, down to the very depths of him, that it was not something that he wanted to be caught by.  Whatever it was, it was hungry, and it wanted the Endless power that was raging in his veins and fighting with his magic.  

Summoning a fire message, Magnus dictated to it quickly and sent it off to Ragnor, relieved to pull into the next town and find his friend waiting.  His eyes were drooping with the exhaustion of fighting down the pull of the magic, but he needed to catch up with where Hob had taken the Endless.  

"You're deteriorating faster than expected," Ragnor announced, sliding into the driver's seat, starting the car.  "I take it that's because you're fighting the pull of the magic?"  

Magnus gave a single nod.  "And I have not been able to stop to rest.  There is something following me, and it's not a warlock, which means it is after him, after this power."  He clenched his fingers against his knees.  "I don't know how, but I suspect they've managed to get into my Monaco villa.  I think they're hiding there."  

Ragnor frowned.  "How is that possible?"  

"I don't know," Magnus said, gritting his teeth.  "But they have an Endless with them, so I'm not going to argue magical semantics right now.  No one else could have gotten through my wards, shut them down, and then had them broadcast an all-clear."  He felt one of his fingers snap, the fourth bone break in the last hour, his magic rushing to heal it as he gasped in pain.  

"You need to let some of it out," Ragnor advised, pushing the limits of the car as he swerved around dozens of other cars in the way.  "If you're already at the point where the weight is beginning to injure you, soon it will not be able to be easily healed."  

Magnus shook his head.  "Did you find where they took the Helm?"  

Ragnor sighed and glanced at Magnus.  "You're not going to like the answer."  

"I never like the answer when you sigh like that," Magnus pointed out, leaning back against the leather.  "Am I to assume that it is nowhere that we can retrieve it through easy means?"  

"It has been traded to a demon."  

Magnus cursed.  "Do we know the demon?"  

"Choronzon," Ragnor said.  

Magnus hummed, looking at the ceiling.  "That's... not terrible.  He will keep it for himself, for the glory of having acquired the tool of an Endless.  That means we can take it from him."  

Ragnor nodded, agreeing to the point.  "He is a Duke, now."  

Magnus scoffed, rolling his eyes.  "I still outrank him, several times over, in both power and prestige.  It just means we'll need to find something to give to him in return."  He tapped on his arm.  "Granted, he may not be willing to give up such an item, which means we will challenge him for it."  

"You'll be subject to Hell's rules if you do that," Ragnor said.  "Which I know you are well aware of and versed in, but it seems pertinent to point out.  And since an Endless is involved, I have suspicions that Lucifer would be themselves."  

Magnus groaned, pressing a hand to his face.  "Do not remind me, I would have to deal with all the diplomacies on behalf of my father, in addition to doing battle with the Morningstar, neither of which I care to add to my resume."  He tapped on the dashboard, thinking.  "Our best bet will be to offer Choronzon something that not even Lucifer can grant him."  

Ragnor felt the silence in the car grow for several long moments, and when he looked to Magnus, there was a smile playing on his lips.  "I take it that you have a plan."  

"I do," Magnus breathed, his eyes falling halfway shut.  "I do indeed."  He tightened his hands into fists, his bones creaking as he drew his power deeper in.  "Don't let the white car catch up to us.  I don't care how fast you go and what magic tricks you use."  

"Understood," Ragnor said, tightening his hands on the wheel.  "Rest while you can, I will get us there."  

Magnus gave his friend a grateful smile and closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat, letting himself drift, easily.  Sleep came almost too easily for him now, but he wasn't going to complain after being on the run for however long it had been now.  

Chapter Text

Alec looked around the apartment, his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes at some of the more risque artwork that Magnus clearly still favored in this time.  The other two were dragging their feet, so Alec shoved them toward the couch, waiting for them to curl up on it before he silenced the magical alarm that had been blaring.  

"All right, now that we're safe for now," he muttered, gathering magic around his hands.  "Let's pull the wards up."  With a flash of his hands, Magnus' strongest wards were in place, high around the building, preventing anyone who had not already been keyed into them from entering.  He paused to look at Hob.  "What year is it?"  

"Nineteen-fifty," Hob called out, bringing a cup of tea into the living room where Dream was sitting. 

Alec did some quick math and relaxed.  "Which means there are now a grand total of three, maybe four people who could walk through this door, and all of them are friend, not foe."  He let his shoulders sag a fraction and looked at the two men in front of him.  The Endless was his first focus.  He sat down on the coffee table in front of him and looked at him, meeting the all-black eyes easily when they lifted to him.  

"What do you wish?"

Alec tilted his head and held out his hand.  "To help."  

Dream scowled at the magic that he could see gathering in his palm.  "Save your paltry attempts at..." he paused and watched as the magic shifted and changed, and he could almost see dreams being played out in the magic.  

"I'm not a vortex," Alec said, his voice quiet, even when Dream looked at him in surprise.  "But I am a strong Dreamer.  I think this can help you."  

Hob looked between the two of them, the shining ball of magic growing in Alec's palm.  "What is that, what are you doing?"  

Alec glanced to Hob and offered him a smile.  "I'm offering him a Dream.  One of mine.  A powerful one, too.  If this works like I am hoping it might, he'll stop looking like he's going to fall over any second."  

Dream reached out to stroke across the magic that was growing steadily larger in Alec's palm.  "This is a powerful Dream.  I cannot take it from you."  

"Take it," Alec said.  "I am offering it freely, and magic is never stronger than when it is.  You need something, and I have a feeling things here are not going to stay peaceful for long."  

"This takes it from you," Dream said, continuing to frown.  "I can show it to you again, but I cannot give it back, it will not be yours any longer."  

Alec gave him a wide smile.  "The things I have dreamed of most, that are the strongest dreams I have, I hold close to my heart, Lord of Dreams.  I offer nothing I am not willing to sacrifice for your safety."  

Dream reached out and pressed his fingertips into the growing ball of silver power and let him feel it.  In it, four small children played together, shouting and running through a home, one of them a toddler.  He shuddered as he realized that this was not only a powerful dream, it was a memory.  There was another shout, this time from Alec as he tried to wrangle all of his siblings together and into the kitchen for lunch where his mother was waiting with-

Dream yanked his hand back, the lights around the apartment flaring.  He breathed in deep, something in his chest settling as he changed his clothes with a thought to ones that fit him properly.  He shook the tiredness from his limbs and leaned back against the couch to meet the eyes that were glowing faintly blue across from him.  

Alec grinned, raising his eyebrows.  "Take it that worked?"  

Dream nodded.  

"Good," Alec said, turning to Hob.  "Now, you might despair over my alcohol tastes, but I know where Magnus keeps the good stuff.  Want a drink before he gets here?  He's on his way now."  

"How far away is he?" Dream asked as both Alec and Hob made their way across the room to where a collection of spirits was displayed on the wall.  "I can feel him approaching as well."  

Alec tilted his head and focused, reaching out with his magic.  "If I had to guess, three or four hours now.  He caught up in the last few.  I think he's hurrying."  Which could not be for any sort of good reason.  "He's bringing Ragnor with him too, which is good for us.  One more person to-"

The alarms around them flared red and Alec barely had time to throw his hands out and cast a shield before the building rocked.  There was an echo of laughter, a shadow growing in the corner, and Alec didn't hesitate before stepping between the Endless and the creature creeping out of the shadows.  

"There you are, precious master.  Been tracking you, hunting you."  A long, dexterous tongue escaped, licking lips that were sagging to mid-chest.  "Hungry for you."  

Dream clenched his hands into fists.  He didn't have enough power to unmake one of his Nightmares, not yet.  "Hob, stay behind me," he ordered, stepping up.  

"Both of you stay back," Alec snarled, his eyes narrowed on the creature that continued to stalk forward, drool dripping out of its mouth in a steady stream.  "What the hell is that?"  

"A Nightmare," Dream said, his eyes narrowing.  "One that has abandoned his work to terrorize the Waking world."  

"Precious master shouldn't talk of abandonment.  He disappeared, left us, ran away, ran to something better.  Pretty human, prettier children, so much better than us, aren't they?"  

Dream growled.  "I would never abandon you, who has been feeding you these lies?"  

Alec stepped forward and sliced a seraph blade through the tongue the next time it came too close to him, flinching as the creature screamed and jumped at him.  He'd apologize later, but in case there were more of them coming, he needed to secure the room again, the wards were fluctuating wildly where the nightmare had come through.  

~!~

Magnus' eyes slammed open, wide awake as he felt the intruder alarm go off again, but this time against his strongest wards.  "They're being attacked!"  

Ragnor looked at Magnus.  "They're what?  How?"  He yanked the car to the side and parked it on the side of the road.  "We're out of options.  You’ll pull up your wards as soon as you’re there and hopefully, that'll be enough to prevent surrounding damage."  He summoned a portal and with his other hand, banished the car so it wouldn't be tracked by the car following them.  

"Ragnor-"

"Go!" Ragnor shouted, shoving Magnus through it, gritting his teeth as the power fluctuated wildly.  "I'll see if I can get rid of this tail properly."  

Magnus stumbled, and felt the fabric of limbo ripping at him as he careened through the portal, crashing to the ground of his apartment seconds later, in the middle of what was clearly a fight.  There was, a shadowhunter?  How?  What?  

"Hob get Magnus!" Alec shouted, shoving Magnus out of the range of the Nightmare with a kick, sending him stumbling toward the immortal, pulling out another blade to sink into the maw of the Nightmare, wrapping his hand around his tongue.  

Focusing his magic, Alec snarled and grabbed at the Nightmare, heating up his hands until the flesh began to sizzle and it fell back from him, screaming.  "How do I kill it?"  

"You cannot," Dream breathed, holding out his hand.  With Magnus now in the same room, bleeding off his magic, he inhaled it, his head falling back as, at last, his power began to cascade back into him.  "But I can."  He stepped closer, sand swirling around his fingertips.  "You disappoint me, little nightmare.  I shall do better next time." 

Alec fell to the ground in a heap as the Nightmare that had attacked them abruptly disappeared and turned his focus to the wards, throwing them back up for good measure with a grunt.  A whimper had him spinning around to the sight of Magnus on the floor, curled up in a ball, clearly pained.  "Magnus!"  

Dream stopped beside him and knelt down, tracing a finger over the broken fingers Magnus now had, and the quiet keen of pain escaping his lips.  "My power is tearing him apart.  I have to take it from him, or it will succeed in doing so."  

"Yeah," Magnus gasped, keeping his eyes clenched shut, his body shuddering.  "But if you take all of it, the vacuum is gonna kill me too, and I'd very much like to live, I've got a few favors I still want to cash in on."  

Hob stepped closer and picked up the blade that Alec had dropped, stepping up behind him and into a protective stance.  "We expecting more visitors?"  

"Ragnor," Magnus spat.  "Getting rid of the other Nightmare.  Kept following.  He's hungry."  He shuddered and reached out, clawing at the floor.  "Get this the hell out of me and don't kill me while you do it."  

Dream frowned and carefully stroked his fingertips down the warlock's hand.  "I have never done this before."  

Magnus let out a hoarse laugh.  "If you can take enough so I stop feeling like I'm dying, I can give you the rest in a few hours, and your tools.  Now hurry up."  

Alec watched Dream move closer and reach out to cup Magnus' power in his hands.  All at once, the weight of the power in the room was brought to bear, heavy enough to make breathing a struggle.  Behind him, he heard Hob crash to his knees, and he nearly fell over and into Magnus.  The Endless had begun to pull the power out of Magnus, and Alec could barely wrap his mind around the power exchanging hands in the room.  The swirling vortex of power only grew stronger, and it distracted Alec until it was almost too late.  

Magnus' life force flickered.  

"Stop!"  Alec screamed the words, but they were ripped away by the force of the power.  "Stop, fuck, stop, you're killing him!"  He grabbed Magnus' hand and opened up the core of his magic, flooding Magnus with everything he could, watching him jack knife upright under the flood of magic to his system.  But still, Dream did not stop.  

"Stop him!" Alec didn't know who he was making the demand of because he couldn't move, the magic was threatening to suffocate him as well and with the amount of magic Magnus was pulling from him, he wasn't going to last much longer like this-

All at once, the vortex of power around them was gone and Alec stumbled, collapsing on the ground beside Magnus, his magic reaching out to confirm there was a pulse and Magnus lived before he did the smart thing and passed out, holding onto Magnus' hand.  

Hob kept his arms wrapped around Dream until it seemed like the room was quiet and held on, carefully, until he could turn and look at Dream's eyes, the tear tracks running down his cheeks.  "Hey," he called, glancing at the two on the floor who were, thankfully, still breathing.  "Can you hear me, my friend?"  

"I couldn't stop," Dream answered, blinking.  "I..."  he frowned and shook himself.  "I, perhaps, now understand your hunger after starving for decades.  I, could not stop myself."  

"All right," Hob said, reaching out to touch Dream's arm, meeting his eyes.  "They're both alive, as far as I can see, and so are we, and that's what matters."  

Dream swayed, leaning back to sag against the couch.  "I... yes.  You are correct."  He reached out and pressed his fingertips to the rough fabric of Hob Gadling's jeans to remind himself that he was there, that he had not left yet.  "I need to return to the Dreaming."  

"Not yet," Hob said, meeting Dream's furious eyes when they flew to him.  "You need your tools.  Magnus has them, he said as much.  You need those before you go back, and we'll go with you to get wherever your Helm is."  

Dream frowned and shook his head.  "You have done enough."  

Hob scowled.  "Now that simply isn't true."  He rubbed at the back of his head.  "How many more of those transfers do you think you'll need to do to get all of your power?"  

"At least a dozen, if they are of similar transfer levels," Dream answered, allowing himself a moment to savor feeling his magic, the threads of the Dreaming.  "The spell that he did needs to be undone piece by piece, or it will kill him."  

"And like he established, he would very much prefer-"

"What in the hell happened here?  Who are you?"  

Hob's head snapped up and he cursed not grabbing a weapon beyond the knife he'd picked up from the floor.  The only man standing in the middle of the mess of the apartment was scowling at them, before moving toward Magnus.  He relaxed.  "You must be Ragnor."  

Ragnor frowned.  "And you are mundane."  His eyes moved to the other creature and he stilled, realizing all at once that this was the Endless.  He bowed his head respectfully.  "And you are not."  He reached out to Magnus, but his core was flooded with angelic energy that pulsed happily in him, pleased.  "But who, and why is this shadowhunter here?  We cannot trust the shadowhunters, they are a danger to all of us."  

"Well," Hob said with a snort.  "That one said you'd recognize the magic in him.  Or something."  

"He has kept us safe," Dream said.  "And he has no malicious intent to any here."  

Ragnor ran his magic over the shadowhunter and blinked in surprise at the ring and clothing that were soaked in Magnus' magic, but it was a magic that didn't feel quite the same as his friend.  It felt older, more relaxed, more in love.  It was unmistakably the same magic, but it came from a far different... He leaned back, his eyes widening.  "Oh."  

"Say that again," Hob said.  "No idea what he's here for, but I think he saved Magnus' life."  He pushed his fingers through his hair.  "But maybe the worst of all this shit is over?"  

Ragnor shook his head.  "You are being chased," he said, lifting his eyes to the Endless, shuddering under the weight of the galaxies there.  "It is a Nightmare.  With blond hair, and a white suit.  He has been following Magnus and me since London.  He's trying to absorb as much of your power as possible."  

A low, vicious snarl left Dream.  "I will unmake him."  

"Probably a good plan.  I managed to surprise him and throw him off long enough to portal here, but he's going to be coming for the two of you," Ragnor gestured to Dream and the human by his side.  "And no offense intended, whatsoever, but I would like to wash my hands of this and send you both back on your way so I can continue pretending neither of you exist."  

Dream smiled, a faint twitch of his lips.  "I am sure we can come to some level of agreement," he said with a nod of his head.  "For now though, we will be safe here, and I suspect my Nightmare will not attack again tonight when we are going to be at our most vigilant."  

Hob sagged and nodded, rubbing at his face.  "Not going to hear me complaining about that.  Not that this sprint across Europe wasn't fun and all, but I could use a drink and a nap in that particular order." 

Dream nodded and looked to the other warlock standing in the room.  "Can you assure us safety here?"  

Ragnor stiffened and stared down the Endless.  "Magnus' wards are up, but I don't know that that protects against your Nightmares."  

Dream tilted his head in consideration.  "Very well.  We shall make due."  With another nod, he dismissed the warlock and looked down at the two of the floor.  There was still far too much of him fighting with the core of Magnus' magic, but the heavy dose of angelic magic, combined with the magic the shadowhunter himself carried, they would recover.  

"You're not going to hurt them, are you?"  Hob asked, taking a sip of the whiskey he'd found on the far wall.  "They don't deserve that."  

"No," Dream answered, reaching out to carefully touch the shadowhunter's temple.  "No harm will come to them from me.  But it is... strange that my brother would interfere in such a way.  I have not heard of it before."  

"I mean," Hob shrugged.  "He is your brother, right?  Maybe he's looking out for you?"  

Dream lifted his eyes to Hob Gadling and then back down to the nephilim.  "Perhaps," he allowed.  His eyes shifted to the warlock beside him, and the way their hands were clasped, the reminder of what they would be to each other making his well-hidden heart ache.  

"You know," Hob said, quiet, as he stepped closer, watching Dream move them to the couch together in a wash of shadows and power.  "I used to wonder if that was possible."  

Dream looked to him, raising an eyebrow.  Unbidden, both Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood-Bane had curled into each other, clinging even now in sleep.  Strange, considering Magnus in this time did not know the embrace which he was protectively held in, and would not, for a great many more years.  

"Immortal couples," Hob said, gesturing to them.  "Being with one person forever, finding happiness like that.  I didn't know if it was possible.  Wanted it to be, of course."  

"It rarely ends well," Dream answered, his voice soft.  "They are the exception, not the rule.  With time, everything changes."  

"I suppose that's true," Hob said, muffling a yawn.  "Doesn't mean you have to change for the worst though, yeah?  I've changed, you've changed, we all change, and sometimes it's for the worse, but sometimes it's for the better."  

Dream hummed.  "You need to sleep.  Go.  I will guard your dreams."  

Hob snorted and shook his head.  "You mean that literally, don't you?  Since you're, you know.  God of Dreams."  

"Something to that extent," Dream answered.  "Far more, and less."  

"All right."  Hob reached out and gave Dream's arm a squeeze.  "Call for me if you need anything.  I'm not going to be able to sleep deeply until all of this is done."  

Dream nodded to him once and watched as he made his way to a nearby armchair and fell into it, falling asleep almost instantly.  All of them were safely asleep and in the Dreaming, which meant that he would have a moment...

The siren call of the Dreaming was only a few feet away and now, like this, Dream could reach out to it.  

~!~

Hob woke up to a pitch-black room and tensed, taking stock, immediately adjusting so it looked like he'd fallen back asleep.  The sound of breathing was gone, which meant that he... was not where he'd fallen asleep, and that was not good.  

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the favorite."  

Having faced a Nightmare down, Hob recognized the slow, teasing drawl almost immediately and turned around to face the voice.  "I'm no one's favorite," he challenged, lifting his chin.  "I'm just me."  

The Nightmare laughed, adjusting his sunglasses.  "Now, that isn't true.  After all, he only protects his favorites.  But he's been gone for too long, he doesn't know that I can get through his protections now."  

Hob took a step back and frowned at the Nightmare.  "You're the one chasing us.  Why?  He's going to come back to the Dreaming now, it's just a matter of-"  

"What makes you think we want him back?" The Nightmare spat.  "He left us behind without a word, on our own, and who are we to not dream of our own future?  He'd be proud of us for that."  He scoffed.  "Of course, he would never admit as much.  Will unmake us all as he gets the chance."  

The reminder of that word, unmaking, made a shudder roll up Hob's spine.  "Do you have no loyalty to him at all?"  

The Nightmare snorted.  "Would you have loyalty to a tyrant?  Who rules through strict obligations and requirements, who does not bend, only forces those who disagree to break, until his creations are loyal through fear, not adoration."  

Hob swallowed.  "He's not a tyrant."  

"And you would know this how, human?  How would you know how he treats his Dreams?  His Nightmares?  How would you know what he is outside the few paltry hours you have spent together?  You know nothing of him."  

The words were true, but only on the surface, not in any way that mattered.  Hob clenched his hands into fists.  "I know that he can change.  That he must treat you this way for a reason, because he is not cruel-"

"What would a human know of cruelty?" The Nightmare spat.  "Especially one such as you!"  

Hob blinked, the bleakness around them lightning to gray as he laughed, his head falling back.  "You don't know me at all, do you?"  

"I know you're favored. And I know I'm going to kill you," The Nightmare spat.  

Hob grinned, stepping forward, a sword materializing in his hand.  "You are welcome to try, but I warn you."  He spun the sword slowly, carefully in his grasp.  "I am very, very much impossible to kill."  

-

The scream of the Nightmare jolted Hob awake, his body following the motion until he was out of the armchair, his eyes darting around for the threat.  Alec and Magnus were still together on the couch, Dream nearby, his eyes shut in what was clearly a meditative pose.  Hob clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to listen.  Something had woken him, something that wasn't the Nightmare that had pulled him out of the dream that he'd been having.  What the hell was it?  

"Hob."  

Hob held up his hand to Dream, and he could feel the weighty gaze fall on him only a few seconds later as he clenched his eyes shut.  What had he heard?  What had pulled him out of a dead sleep?  

The sound of an engine revving in the distance had him spinning to the window.  He shoved himself out to the balcony and ducked under an immediate hail of bullets.  "Fuck!"  He dove back inside and slammed the doors shut, breathing hard as another rain of them came down on the windows.

Hob spun to the others in the room, but only Dream was awake, which meant they were trapped, soon to be surrounded.  He flexed his hands and looked to the kid on the couch, gritting his teeth.  

"I cannot move all of us," Dream said, glancing to Magnus.  "If I had my sand-"

"Even if you did," Hob said, breathing hard as his mind raced.  "Are you honestly telling me that you could take us somewhere that your Nightmare wouldn't bring an army down upon us?"  

Dream was silent for several beats too long and Hob nodded, taking another breath.  

"Right," Hob said, striding over to the kid on the couch.  In a flourish, he began to strip his weapons off of him, tucking them in and against his person.  "Anything special I need to know about these?"  

"What are you doing?"  Dream asked, narrowing his eyes.  

"I," Hob said, tucking a knife into his boot as he picked up the bow and quiver that were still on the floor from the earlier fight, throwing it over his shoulder.  "Am going to go pick a fight."  He tightened his hand around the sword and stared down at it.  "Huh.  It lit up for him."  

"He's a nephilim.  You do not have the runes required," Dream said.  "Their powers won't activate for you."  

Hob grinned at Dream and pressed his thumb to the edge of the blade.  "Don't need any power other than it being sharp, and it looks like they'll work perfectly in this instance."  

"You have a plan?"  Dream asked, his eyes drawn to the window as another series of bullets rained down on it.  

"Plan?" Hob laughed, standing up, before turning back to the drink cart, and ripping off part of his shirt.  "Absolutely not.  Kill them and not get captured, that's my plan."  He stuffed some of the fabric into a full bottle and took a moment to mourn the vintage before he moved to the fire.  

Dream scowled.  "You are-"

"I," Hob interrupted, turning to him.  "Am going to put several centuries of experience to use, love."  He lifted the bottle and winked at Dream.  "Besides, I can't let them have all the fun, can I?"  Picking up another bottle, he stuffed one end of the fabric into it and breathed in deeply.

Last but not least, Hob pulled the pills out of his pocket and stared down at them, and groaned, gritting his teeth.  "Fucking hated this the last time I did it too," he muttered, before opening the bottle and emptying the dozen pills into his mouth, swallowing them with a swig of alcohol.  

Dream frowned.  "What are those?"  

"Gave 'em to us in the war," Hob said, tightening his fingers around the sword he held.  "Kept you awake for hours.  Dangerous.  Should only take one."  He lifted his eyes to Dream and smirked.  "Good thing for me I can't die."  

The rush from the drugs nearly sent him to his knees, but after that, it was like a film descended over his vision and Hob needed to move.  There were no more protests that were worth offering, and not a single moment to waste.  

At Hob's order, Dream ensured the window was shut behind him, but as soon as it was, he was reaching out to Jessamy for her eyes to watch over Hob.  He would not have her join the fight his friend seemed determined to enter, but he could at least observe in case he was captured.  

Chapter Text

Hob wanted to laugh at the shouts of shock when he jumped off the balcony.  He threw both the Molotov cocktails at the clusters of men the second he was in the air and hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact.  Few bruises had never stopped him.  An instant later, the man closest to him had a sword in his belly, ripping through skin and bone before he'd finished the roll, and then Hob was spinning to the next.  

The hot spray of blood, the shouts, and the echo of gunfire, none of it mattered, not under the pounding demand, the desire to keep Dream and the others safe.  He didn't try to count them, ducked behind cars, or other debris from the explosion when they fired shots and stabbed and slashed his way through anyone who came near him.  He needed to keep them safe, and he would.  He would.  He turned a corner and fire burst across his shoulder, a knife wound, but Hob grabbed the dagger embedded there by the handle, yanked it free with a grunt, and threw it back in a fluid motion, straight into the head of the poor sod who'd decided to pick this fight.  Breathe.  Keep breathing.  The drugs would metabolize fast, he'd learned that.  Move. 

More shouts, more screams, another spray of blood across his face, and a slash across his leg that sent him stumbling for a few seconds.  The sight of explosives in one of the cars turned his stomach and Hob knew that they had been brought to destroy the house and them in it.  Fury swept over him and when there was a shout, Hob spun with the bow in his fingers, arrows almost leaping to his fingers as he fired one through the throat and another into an eye.  Collecting them, as his vision started to go black at the edges, he kept moving.  He couldn't let them get close.  There were still more, where were they coming from?  He had to keep moving.  Fear crept over him in a way that he hadn't felt since... he could not remember when.  But he couldn't stop.  Not now, not yet.

There were sirens, there were more people coming, and he needed to finish this, needed to get away, get safe before someone discovered them.  Two were running, attempting to escape and Hob only just managed to shoot them down, arrows in their backs, the world starting to swim in front of him.  The string was a material he'd never felt before and his fingers slipped on it, soaked with blood and bile before he managed another shot to make sure they stopped moving.  Bending to collect the arrows, clenching them tight in his fist had his vision swimming and he turned, looking for safety.  

The police were almost upon them now, and the flashing sirens were making his teeth ache.  Hob managed to shove the arrows away and stumbled into the shadows of a nearby alley, his heart pounding hard enough that he was sure it would burst out of his chest.  He pushed his fingers into his hair, trying to get the blood out of his face.  His skin was vibrating and everything was starting to hurt more and more by the second.  But he'd managed it, he'd protect them all, they were going to be safe now.  He heaved in a breath, but oh, oh, it hurt.

"Wake up, you stupid human!"

Hob felt a sharp pinprick of pain, which should be impossible considering his body was on fire, but the sight of the raven beside him had him struggling to turn on his side to face her.  "Wh... wh..aat?"  

"Get up!" She hissed, hopping impatiently on the ground.  "They're going to find you, get up, you must get up, they cannot find you!"

Hob tried to push himself upright, but the ground was slippery, slick with blood, so much of which wasn't his own, and he felt soaked with it, trembling with the reminder of what he'd done.  But he'd done it, he'd kept them safe, it was enough.  He tightened his hands on the weapons, but they were filthy.  He had them all, he'd kept them, but they were now bloodied.  "Can't," he managed, his limbs trembling.  

It hadn't been this bad last time, had it?  He'd been sore, but he'd been able to move afterward, it hadn't left him feeling like a scraped-out grapefruit, his limbs more liquid than solid.  Hob grit his teeth tighter together when Jessamy gave another worried caw and turned his head to the entrance to the alley.  There were dozens of police cars present now, and the fact that none of them had noticed the blood trailing toward him among the other carnage he'd left was nothing short of a miracle.

"Get away," Hob tried to order her, shifting to crawl behind a pile of garbage that might stink enough to hide the stench of rapidly drying blood.  He could feel it itching on his scalp and on his hands but moving much more than that, the mere thought of it had black spots growing in his vision.  "Get safe," he ordered.  

"Not until-"

There was a caw and Hob tried to force himself to focus, but everything was swimming in a worrying way in front of him, the air gaining a liquid quality that made him want to tremble and drown in it.  He'd drowned before, it was horrible, one of his least favorite deaths, but it was not the worst.  There were worse. 

But then there was a cool hand cupping his cheek and Hob sagged.  He knew that touch, he knew who it belonged to, even as he swayed.  "Safe..." he whispered.  

"That you are, Hob Gadling."  

There was a rush of something that sounded like sand over cobblestones and Hob curled into the arms that wrapped around him and held on tight.  There was a sob building in his throat, but it didn't matter.  He'd protected Dream, kept him safe.  Kept the others safe, because they were so much more capable of protecting Dream, he needed them, didn't need... he wasn't as important.  He'd led them here, they were his contacts, trying to take advantage and-

"Wake up, Hob Gadling."  

Hob's eyes snapped open and he jerked, stumbling until he caught himself on the bathroom counter.  He tightened his fingers on the marble, but the image wavered once more before solidifying at last.  He swallowed and glanced at Dream, standing beside him.  "Thanks," he managed, dropping his eyes to the sink so he didn't have to look at the image he made.  

"You are well-aware that is we who should be thanking you," Dream said.  "Magnus sensed something wrong with his wards and woke long enough to return one of my tools to me.  I was able to travel to you once I had it in hand."  

Hob let out a hoarse laugh, the scent of blood growing in the bathroom.  It was dripping down him still, and his hands were shaking.  He needed to get clean, to change clothes and, and... figure out what they were going to do next.  "I'm glad," he managed, his voice hoarse.  "He has, has one of the others, right?"  

Dream nodded and stepped forward.  "That he does."  Reaching out, he carefully untucked one of the knives from Hob's belt, putting it to the side of the bathroom sink.  Then, another, followed by another that was barely sheathed in his boot.  Next, the quiver, slowly removed from his shaking shoulders to rest in the growing pile of weaponry.  

"What the..." Hob's throat worked, a shudder rolling up his spine.  "What are you doing, Dream?"  

"Removing your weapons," Dream stated, carefully lifting the bow from Hob's shoulder, and leaning it on the floor.  He reached for the sword that was still wrapped in Hob's fingers and tugged it from him, adding it to the pile.  "You do not wish to remain like this."  

The thought of being covered in blood, in the blood of the dozen?  Two Dozen?  More?  Men he'd slain was enough to make him sick, but Hob fought down the bile.  After having taken those pills, heaving them up would make things even worse.  "Go figure," he managed, clenching his hands tight.  "I'll just take a hot-"

"Shhh," Dream soothed, reaching out to carefully remove the jacket that was soaked in the blood of the men chasing them from Hob Gadling's shoulders.  He dropped it to the floor.  "Steady yourself.  You have protected us better than we could have dreamed.  We are safe now thanks to you."  

Hob grit his teeth together as Dream began to unbutton the shirt that he was wearing, removing another knife tucked at the base of his spine.  "You don't have to... have to..." Cool fingers carefully undid the buttons at his wrists and Hob clenched his eyes shut, breathing hard.  He was going to be dreaming of this for centuries, and he didn't know if knowing Dream was the Lord of Dreams made the knowledge better or worse.  

"I wish to," Dream said.  "You are my friend."  

Hob's laugh was cracked and hoarse, but oh those words should not make him ache as much as they did.  He nodded and moved, just a fraction, to help Dream get the shirt off of him.  He trembled, watching it fall to the floor moments later.  He nodded, wrapping an arm around himself, covering his face with his hand.  

"You were injured."  

Hob blinked himself back into awareness and found Dream staring at the stab wound in his shoulder, touching the skin around it with gentle fingers.  He shook his head.  "Didn't manage to catch him with the blast of the bottle, so he got a clean throw in.  Luckily his aim was shit.  Pulled it out and put it in him."  

Dream leaned in and stroked his fingers over the rapidly healing skin.  "Is there pain?"  

Hob shuddered under the too-gentle touch and shook his head.  "No, not anymore.  It'll be uncomfortable if I have to use it for a few hours, but it doesn't hurt standing like this."  

Dream nodded and pulled his hand away.  "May I continue?"  

Hob swallowed and looked at Dream, who was staring at him, waiting, patiently.  "You don't need to."  

"I wish to," Dream repeated.  He knelt down and lifted Hob's boot to his thighs, plucking at the laces.  "You have gone through nothing but trouble since you found me and Jessamy brought you to aid me.  You have had no moments of respite, and you have been thrown into a world that up until now, you were spared from."  

Hob closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath as Dream carefully pulled his boot, then his sock off, his body trembling at the ugly squelching noise that accompanied them as they were dropped into the same pile.  "Wasn't going to leave you there, Dream."  

"I do not deserve such loyalty after our last parting, but I am glad of it, Hob," Dream lifted up his other foot and began to work at the laces on the boot.  "You are a friend that any would treasure to have, and well I now know it."  

Hob let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head.  "I'm not a good friend, not when I can do..." he gestured to the window.

Dream hummed and carefully pulled the hard leather from Hob's foot, and removed his sock before reaching up to undo the leather belt and holsters he was wearing.  "On the contrary," he corrected, his voice soft.  "Is that not the ultimate show of loyalty to another?  To be willing to enact violence on their behalf, to keep them safe?"  

"Pretty sure it doesn't work like that, dove," Hob gasped, shivering as Dream pulled his belt slowly off and left it in a pile with the other things.  He bit down on his lip, fighting against the reaction his body wanted to have after all that adrenaline and the following crash.  

Dream hummed.  "Perhaps not for a normal human.  But while you are human, you are far from normal, these days.  And I... am not."  He lifted his eyes to Hob Gadling's and began to unbutton and unzip the pants that he was wearing.  "I find your loyalty and your willingness to use any means to keep us-"

"You," Hob corrected, biting down on his lip with a groan as Dream pulled his pants down, the disgusting, blood-soaked thing, until they were in a pool at his feet, leaving him, very obviously, in nothing but his shorts.  "Anything to keep you safe, my friend."  

Dream looked up at him with a considering eyebrow raised, before he turned away and turned the shower on, until it was steaming, testing the water with his fingertips before he turned back to Hob Gadling.  

"I thank you, for your loyalty," Dream breathed, the words whisper soft.  "I can think of nothing I deserve less, but am honored to receive."  

It had been close to two hundred years, but Hob felt the heat of the look Dream followed those words up in the same way he had in 1789.  It was nearly the same, considering, weighted look that made him want to risk it all, for nothing but a taste.  "You'll always have it," he managed, his voice hoarse.  The shower across from them seemed miles away, but the heat already building in the room was enough to have him wanting to sink into the water for hours.  

"Come," Dream said, taking Hob's hand, opening the door to the shower, and leading him into it.  Once Hob had stepped beneath the spray, he turned to the large clawfoot tub and began to fill it with water.  

Out of habit, practice, and far too much knowledge, Hob stepped under the steaming hot spray and clenched his eyes shut.  He started humming, so the sound of flesh and congealed blood dropping off of him didn't deafen him, biting his lip hard enough to bleed.  He wiggled out of his boxers and kicked them to the corner of the shower, turning his head under the spray.  The scent of blood was growing as it was rinsed off of him and he swallowed, trying to breathe around it.  

"You will have to tell me the story of how Jessamy found you," Dream said, stepping up behind Hob, and reaching for one of the bottles on the side of the shower.  It was more effort to tap into Magnus' dreams to find which item he wanted, but once had procured it, pouring the softly scented sandalwood into his palm was exactly what he wanted.  "I had not thought to have her go to you."  

"Dream," Hob's eyes slammed open, even as long fingers sank into his hair and began massaging shampoo in, and abruptly, the scent of blood was gone, filled by one he recognized, his shoulders sagging in relief.  "You don't need to-"

"I am aware," Dream interrupted.  "As I have said.  I wish to."  He continued to work the suds through Hob Gadling's hair, carefully cleaning the strands until there was nothing left of the violence he had visited upon those men.  

Hob let out a quiet breath, swaying under the gentle touch.  "Later," he answered, his eyes half shut.  "Why don't you tell me a story instead?" he suggested.  "That's what they call you, isn't it?  The Prince of Stories?"  

Dream hummed.  "One of my many names, yes," he agreed, tipping Hob's head back and into the spray of the water, carefully rinsing out the suds that were pink with blood until none remained before he poured more of the wash into his hand.  "What story would you have me tell you?"  

"I don't know," Hob said.  "You know every story there ever was, right?  Pick one, I'm sure I'll enjoy it."  If he didn't want this moment to end, wanted to sink into the comfort that was being offered in this moment, that he would remember for the remainder of his existence, well.  That was his own business.  

Dream's lips quirked.  "Perhaps I shall tell you a story of my own making.  One of Pride, and of Prejudice."  

Hob laughed, fighting down a grin.  "Oh, she would approve, of that I have no doubt.  But somehow I don't think we're discussing one of my favorite Ms. Austen novels."  

"We are not," Dream agreed, focusing on once again working the soap into Hob Gadling's hair, this time a much more proper white color.  Once that was complete, he turned his attention to the dried blood still clinging to sore golden muscles.  "It is the story of a creature, bound by duty above all other things.  Without their duty, and the rules that hold them to such, they would drown in their responsibilities."  

Hob breathed in slow and deep, swaying as Dream began to wash off his shoulders, arms, and chest.  He made a quiet protesting noise, but that was swept away by the current of Dream's voice.  

"For millennia, this creature did what he could to be what he had been made for.  He made many mistakes, some of which cost the lives of those very dear to him.  He loved, he lost, and he learned that it was better for him to be alone, for fear that he would bring heartbreak to all those close to him," Dream explained, working down Hob's body, watching the last of the tension begin to bleed from him.  The wound on his shoulder was almost gone now, but like this, clear of the blood, he could see another jagged knife cut up his right thigh.  

"Sounds lonely," Hob whispered, the words almost illegible over the water.  

Dream paused and let his eyes fall shut, taking a shaky breath before he continued, lifting one of Hob's legs to brace his foot against his thighs, beginning to clean it.  "It is," he agreed, his voice soft.  "But it was for the safety of those he cared for, more than he could ever let them know.  It kept them safe, and he comforted himself with that knowledge, that though he ached with loneliness, they were safe."  

Hob snorted and shook his head.  "What a load of bollocks," he whispered.  "I get wanting to keep other people safe, but sometimes, living life comes with risks.  We can't hide from them all or we stop living."  

Dream's fingers stilled against the muscles of Hob Gadling's calf and he tilted his head back, looking up at the brown eyes that oh-so-readily met his.  He gave a small nod.  "There is truth in your words," he agreed.  "But that is not where the story ends, only where it begins."  

Hob raised his eyebrows, doing his best not to take in the fact that Dream, while not naked like him, was wearing nothing more than a pair of loose pants.  "Oh?"  

"Oh yes," Dream said, unable to keep the faint smile from his face, moving to the other leg, giving it the same easy treatment, cleaning the last of the blood from his skin. "For this creature's sister was of your same mind, so she brought him out to the world, to encourage him to live, to see.  To see its horribleness, its kindness, all it had to offer."  His eyes drifted shut as he carefully rinsed the suds from Hob's skin.  

"It was on this trip, that he met a human.  A human who professed to know Death," Dream continued.  

Hob's breath caught, his eyes slamming wide as he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, a tremble working down his entire body.  He'd hoped, he'd guessed that the story Dream was telling was... was theirs in some fashion, but to have it declared so boldly, so openly... He swallowed.  "What a foolish man he must have been."  

Dream chuckled and lowered Hob's leg, rising in the shower, reaching out to turn off the water, taking the towel hung nearby to wrap around Hob Gadling, before leading him to the full tub glistening with oils, gesturing to it.  

"I'm already clean," Hob said, shaking his head.  "There's no need-"

"Your soul needs this," Dream corrected, his voice gentle.  "You need a moment of respite, Hob Gadling, and we are safe thanks to your intervention.  Allow yourself this."  When he continued to hesitate, he continued.  "After all, I have not finished my tale."  

Hob huffed out a laugh and stepped out of the towel and into the steaming hot water, sinking into it with a sigh.  "You don't need to do any of this, I'm going to be fine."  

Dream hummed quietly as he settled onto the chair that appeared in his hand, reaching out to comb his fingers through Hob Gadling's hair, settling behind him.  "Perhaps," he agreed.  "But you have done nothing but comfort me in every possible way since rescuing me.  I wish to return some measure of this."  

Hob sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into Dream's fingers.  "All right, I guess.  Keep telling the story?  What happened to the man who claimed to know death?"  

Dream smiled.  "This creature's sister, who is named Death, took no offense to the declaration, and even found it amusing, for all who walked the world knew of her and her gift.  However, the creature, he was prideful and arrogant.  He believed that he knew any human would beg for death after a hundred years, and he was so certain, in fact, that Death challenged his assumption."  

Hob's breath caught, his eyes wide as Dream's fingers kept working through his hair in slow strokes.  "Did she?" he whispered.  

"She did.  She promised to refuse her gift to this mortal, until he asked for it, and the creature went to deliver the news.  He was arrogant, prejudiced, for he was certain he would be right."  Dream closed his eyes and smiled faintly.  "Little did this creature know, it would be the start of a journey that he was neither prepared for nor eager for.  But it was a journey he was sent on regardless."  

When Hob said nothing, only remained still, his breathing steady, Dream continued.  "Many centuries later, the creature would wonder if his brother, named Destiny, had intervened at this moment to ensure what happened much later.  It seemed a curse, but it was one that forced the creature to change."  Dream shook himself.  "But I have skipped ahead."  

"It's okay," Hob said, his voice hoarse.  "I think I've heard this story before."  

Dream smiled, faint and gentle.  "It is not a common story, but it is one known to a select few," he allowed.  "But allow me to finish."  

"Of course," Hob croaked, closing his eyes so the tears that were threatening didn't start to fall.  "Please forgive my interruption."  

"There is nothing to forgive," Dream said, before refocusing.  "Imagine the creature's surprise when after a hundred years, the zest for life, the joy of it remained."  He paused and reached out to dip his hand into the water, continuing to comb his fingers through Hob's hair.  "Imagine his surprise when not only did this human want to continue living, but he started a trade that would bring stories to the world in a whole new way.  It was... perhaps providence.  Stories have always meant to be shared, and to help the creation of that new way... the creature found himself fascinated."  

Hob felt a tear streak down his cheek as he took a slow breath, clenching his fingers into his thighs.  How many times had he wished for this?  To hear of their meetings from his Stranger's perspective?  To know his thoughts, and his opinions, and here it was being offered freely.  

Dream continued to stroke through Hob's hair, his eyes far away as the memory played as though it had been mere days ago.  "A hundred years passed, and they met again, but this time, the creature was foolish.  The human waited for him, and his happiness, his joy was read on his face, bright enough to be blinding."  He turned his attention to the ripples in the water as Hob shifted, but there was no other movement, no sound from within the apartment, and now that he had started to speak, stopping felt unnatural.  It was his story to tell, one of the truest to his heart in longer than he could remember.  

"The creature-"

"Stop calling him that," Hob interrupted, his voice cracking.  He pressed back into Dream's hands, not wanting him to stop telling the story.  "He's, he's... he's just himself.  Not a creature."  

Dream smiled faintly.  "Very well.  The Stranger then, I think he has been called."  When Hob sagged in relief with a pained exhale, he refocused on the story.  

"The Stranger could not bear to sit in the presence of such light.  For, though the human did not know it, long ago the Stranger had lost his own wife and child, and such conversation brought forth pain he could not bear to face, not even for one that he wished to know more from."  Dream felt Hob tense, but he kept talking, not wanting to dwell on this part of the story.  "So he found other company that night, other stories to be told.  He did regret what he had done, but he knew that the human would return, and he would make it up to him then."  

Hob swallowed and turned his head into Dream's hands, letting out a shaky breath.  He could say something about how he'd never forgiven the bastard for stealing Dream away that night, but that wasn't the part of the story he wanted to hear.  "Did he?" 

Dream was quiet for a long time.  "No, I am sorry to say that he did not.  For a hundred years hence, he faced something he had long thought himself above, and it rocked him to his very core."  He looked down at Hob's hair, which was clean and shining, and the way his muscles had relaxed into the steaming water.  This part of the story...

"You don't have to keep telling it if you don't wish to," Hob said, his head falling back, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks.  "I know it is not an easy story."  

"That is true," Dream whispered.  "But that does not make it an unimportant one.  And I would have you receive one story from me for all your dozens through the years."  He closed his eyes.  

Hob's breath stuttered and he reached out to take Dream's hand, pulling him closer to put his fingertips into the water, holding him as close as he dared without forcing his friend into the water with him.  "Then tell me."  

"The human had suffered," Dream breathed.  "And oh, the Stranger again knew fear as they had not in thousands of years.  They knew fear, because how could anyone hope to live through, to survive the pain this human had endured at the hands of their fellow beings?  The Stranger feared that this would be the moment the human would request his sister's gift, and he found himself devastated, and already mourning the loss of that which he had barely begun to covet and look forward to every century."  

Hob held onto Dream's fingers as he trembled, shifting just enough to press his forehead against his cool hand.  

"But then..." Dream whispered, his eyes falling shut.  "A miracle.  The human, this creature the Stranger had become attached to without meaning to, still wished to live.  Despite the suffering, despite the agony of despair, he wished to live.  To be sent from the depths of drowning fear, to the soaring heights of joy in a second, the Stranger knew he was showing his shock, his awe, his admiration for this human, but what did it matter."  He paused and looked to Hob, smiling faintly.  "In that moment, the Stranger knew the human was stronger than he had ever been.  So they shared a meal, he offered what little help he could to the human, and they again promised to meet."  

"I imagine," Hob croaked, barely able to get the words out.  "That the human was so grateful to the Stranger that he could have wept tears of joy.  For not only did he get to continue to live, to see things turn to get better, but he would..." His voice cracked and he turned his face to hide it, tears dripping into the water.  "He would not be alone, even after losing everything else."  

The tightness in his chest increased, and Dream bent closer, pressing his forehead against Hob Gadling's shoulder, holding onto him, clinging to him, when the sound of movement out in the apartment alerted him to the fact that this time was over.  With one last squeeze, he leaned back and carefully pulled his hands away.  "He will never be alone, unless he wishes it," Dream promised, even as he stood.  "I fear I'll have to tell you the remainder of that story another time, as it seems the others are waking."  

"Wait," Hob sat up, sloshing the water in the tub, his heart pounding when Dream froze.  "I..." he swallowed.  "Soon.  Please.  I want to hear the rest of the story soon, Dream."  

Dream turned to meet Hob Gadling's eyes and gave a single nod before gathering up the weapons and clothing that had been deposited on the ground, sand washing away the blood and mess.  "I shall send Magnus in with clothes for you," he added, leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.  

Hob watched the door shut behind him and covered his face with his hands.  Pressing his hand to his mouth, tight enough to muffle any noise, Hob cried, turning on the faucet of the tub to avoid any noise.  He sobbed, quietly, into the tub, for his Stranger, for the circumstances that had led him to lose a wife and child, and for the ones that had brought them together, again and again.  He didn't know how long it was until there was another knock on the bathroom, but he levered himself out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist.  "Yes?"  

"If you're feeling up to being among the living, I have alcohol and a desperate need to understand why the entire police force of Monaco is outside my villa," Magnus called, snapping his fingers to magic the clothing into the bathroom.  "Put those on and come tell me what happened while I was unconscious."  

Chapter Text

Once that was finished, Magnus made his way back into the living room and stared at the shadowhunter who was cleaning his weapons, slow and methodical, summoning what he needed to his fingertips with magic, his magic, as though this was something that he did every single day.  Taking a fortifying breath, Magnus stopped in front of him and ordered himself to not get distracted by just how pretty this particular shadowhunter was.  "Are you going to tell me anything?"  

Alec smiled faintly down at his sword.  "Why would I bother?  You're already going to answer all of your own questions."  He glanced up briefly and smiled.  "Not my first rodeo with time travel, Mr. Bane, and it likely won't be the last."  

Magnus hated the shiver that ran up his spine at the title, and based on the faint smirk the shadowhunter was wearing, he knew precisely what kind of an effect he had.  "You have my magic inside you."  

"I do," Alec confirmed with a nod, tucking a knife back into the ankle holster he had.  

"You have magic as a warlock, and if I had to hazard a guess, you share our lifespan?" Magnus continued.  He dropped his eyes to the most damning piece of evidence.  "You are wearing a ring on your finger that is soaked in my magic and every protection spell I could imagine fitting on such a small thing." 

Alec raised both of his eyebrows and gestured for Magnus to continue.

Magnus glared at him.  "And you won't tell me who you are?"  

"You call me Alexander," Alec answered, his lips twisted into a half smile.  "Everyone else calls me Alec."  

Hob bit down the urge to laugh as Magnus' face ran through so many expressions in the space of a few seconds before settling on baffled.  This was more entertaining than he'd expected.  

Magnus sank into a chair, staring at the shadowhunter whose magic he could still feel surging through his veins, boosting him almost up to full magic levels.  "And you trust me enough to share magic with me?"  

Alec shrugged.  "I'd give you every drop of magic in my body without question if you said you needed it."  He flashed a smile up at Magnus.  "You tend to get angry when I do that, though."  

Magnus rubbed at his temple and took a deep, steadying breath.  "How did we meet?"  

"Can't tell you," Alec said.  "Which you knew, never mind that you're not going to be keeping your memories of this."  

Magnus grit his teeth together.  "And I marry you?"  

Alec paused in cleaning his weapons and lifted his head to look Magnus in the eyes, softening.  "Yeah," he whispered.  "You do."  

Magnus shivered under the weight of the adoration in that gaze and swallowed the lump in his throat.  "Right.  I do not have time to unpack all of that.  Or any of it, perhaps.  We need to figure out how to transfer the rest of the power without killing me as expediently as possible.  I have no doubt that more will be coming for us."  

"We likely need to move again," Hob said with a sigh.  "I suspect the only reason the police haven't shown up here is because of your uh, wards?"  

Magnus nodded.  "Yes."  

Hob let out a breath and looked to where Dream was standing by the window, looking out at the night sky.  "Then how do we get out of here without being caught?"  

"Good question," Alec said, finishing cleaning off the last of his weapons.  "Speaking of which, are your hands burned?"  

Hob blinked.  "What?  My hands?  No, they're fine.  Why?"  

Magnus turned around to look at Hob Gadling and then back to Alec, Alexander.  "Hm.  Mundane descendant?"  

Alec nodded.  "Very likely.  Old one, too."  

"Eight generations," Dream offered, looking back at the others.  "With my sand now, I can move us to another place.  But you said you had my other tools?"  

Hob looked between the three of them and pointed at them.  "I want to know what I just missed there, but Dream's tools are more important, obviously."  

Magnus took a deep breath and gestured for the Endless to join them.  "So I have good news on the counts of the ruby and your helm."  He summoned the box with the ruby to his fingertips and the lurch of power toward it was much less than it had been before.  With a grunt of effort, he wrestled it down.  

"Explain," Dream ordered.  

"The helm is in the possession of a demon, a duke of hell," Magnus said, watching the Endless carefully.  "Ragnor was able to track down the sale and exchange and has passed me his name.  We can summon him here, to this plane.  By doing so, we can avoid dealing with the rules Hell likes to impose around these sorts of encounters."  His lips twisted.  "And since I have the heritage to outrank him, he cannot ignore my summons."  

Dream nodded.  "What will he trade for the helm?"  

Magnus shook his head.  "That's the piece I don't know.  It's yours, and we believe that he is aware it is yours.  Something more valuable than the tool of an Endless is... perhaps unheard of, in trade."  

Hob felt Dream tense, his back going rigid, even if his expression didn't change.  "There has to be something that we can give to him for it.  Or something we can get."  

"There is," Magnus answered, slowly, carefully.  "And I will offer it to you, Dream of the Endless."  

"Your price?" Dream demanded, his hands tense.  "What would you demand of me?"  

Alec frowned and sat forward.  "There's no need for-"

Magnus held up his hand to silence Alec and kept his eyes on the Endless in front of him.  "Before I name my price, a question.  Is it true that you preside over a library that contains the published and unpublished works of all who dream?" 

Hob could tell that the question had instantly put Dream's guard up even more, and there was a cackle of power in the room that was making all the hair on his arms stand up.  "All right you two, just take a second and-"

"Yes," Dream answered.  "That is the truth."  

Magnus closed his eyes and sagged in relief, leaning back against the couch.  "Then my price is the ability to remember my dreams.  All of them.  Dreams, nightmares, lucid dreaming, all of it."  

Dream studied the warlock in front of him for a long time.  "Why did you pick this price?"  

"Other than knowing it is within your purview to grant?"  Magnus asked, flicking his eyes up to Dream.  "In such a library... if I were to be able to visit it some day, I could perhaps read works written by friends I had forgotten.  I could read my own journals lost to time from my earliest days to remember what I no longer do.  I could learn, and spend lifetimes learning from such a place."  

Hob watched Dream sit back in his chair, and though his expression changed only a fraction, he was surprised.  He relaxed and sank down on the other end of the couch from Magnus.  "I know what that's like.  I helped to bind some of the first books."  

Magnus' eyes snapped to Hob.  "You did?"  

Hob grinned and nodded.  "I did.  Some of the earliest books you'd find in that library would have my signature, or what passed for it, on them."  

"It is a paltry gift to ask for in return for an item that a Duke of Hell would consider trading my helm for," Dream said, cutting through the room.  

Magnus raised an eyebrow.  "There's also the fact that I don't want to piss off one of the Endless by overstepping and asking for something unreasonable.  I wish to be able to visit your library someday, but I will not make that a part of our bargain, as I feel that is an opportunity to be earned."  

Dream studied Magnus for several long moments before he nodded.  "Very well.  I accept those terms.  What is it you have to offer in trade?"  

Magnus let out a breath and looked down at his hands.  "I have two.  I will give him one."  He closed his eyes and then admitted, softly.  "The feather of an archangel."  

Hob's eyes darted around the room at the sharp inhale from the others and rubbed the back of his head.  "Where the hell would you have gotten those?"  

Magnus clenched his hand into the fabric of his pants and shook his head.  "It does not matter.  It is an item that Choronzon will not hesitate to trade for.  Even for the helm of the Endless."  

Dream nodded.  "Very well.  And my ruby?"  

Alec looked at the box in Magnus' hands.  "Well, if it's in that box, it's not in a good state."  

Magnus looked at Alec in confusion, frowning.  "You've seen this?"  

Alec shrugged.  "It's your favorite curse-breaking box, of course I've seen it."  

Magnus snapped his mouth shut and took a steadying, deep breath.  He brought his attention back to the Endless.  "It is in here.  But you cannot take it out."  

Dream's expression was thunderous.  "And why not?"  

"It will sap and absorb almost all your remaining power.  I didn't dare touch it when I found it," Magnus said.  "The curse needs to be removed."  

Alec tilted his head and looked at the box.  "And you can't remove it?"  

Magnus shook his head.  "Not while I'm damn near bursting with his power," he said, gesturing to the Endless.  

Hob looked at the box and held out his hands for it.  "May I?"  

Magnus hesitated, looking to the Endless, waiting for the nod of acknowledgment before he handed the box to the human.  "Why?"  

"What's the curse on it?"  Hob asked, tracing his fingers over the designs on the box, studying them carefully.  

“It will likely kill any human who touches it,” Magnus warned.  “I can lift it, eventually, it will just take time.”  

Hob hummed and traced a thumb over the design on the box.  “I would assume that such a curse would be activated only once?”  

Magnus’ eyes widened and he lurched forward as Hob flipped open the box.  “Do not-” 

Hob gave Dream a wink and wrapped his hand around the ruby.  It was only several centuries of experience that kept him from screaming once the pain hit him.  Even as the pain wracked him in wave after wave, he kept his hand on the ruby.  There was shouting, and hands grabbing at him, but he curled around the ruby.  If it was going to hurt them, he couldn’t let it.  

The shouting was getting louder and he could smell the sizzle of his flesh as another wave of pain hit him, and this time he didn't manage to muffle the scream, thrashing on the ground.  He tightened his hand around it, fuck if the thing would just break, it wouldn't keep causing him pain and Dream wouldn't have to worry about the fucking thing anymore.  Of course, even thinking about shattering the ruby had cracks echoing in his ears, but it wasn't the gem breaking it, it was him.  

"Get it away from him!" Dream snarled his eyes blacky depths of ink.  "It's killing him, you can see it!"  

"It's going to kill any of us!" Alec shouted back, watching as Hob convulsed again, still curled tightly around the ruby, shielding them all from it.  His eyes flew to the curse box and he grabbed at it, slamming it shut, concentrating.  "Magnus, where's your diamond cutter?"  

"What?" Magnus snapped, casting another shield around Hob as magic rolled off him in violent waves.  "What are you-"  

"Your diamond cutter for gem work that you've had since the fucking seventeen hundreds!"  Alec shouted over the growing sound of power in the room.  "Summon it into the box!"  There was a rush of magic and Alec opened the box, grabbing it out, scrambling for Hob, even as the magic threatened to buffet him back.  But unlike the other two in the room, it wasn't going to drain him, only try to kill him in turn.  

"What are you doing?" Dream's voice echoed in the room, resonating with power.  "If he destroys it-"

Alec glared at him.  "Would you rather watch him keep dying?"  When Dream didn't bother to dignify that with a response, Alec grabbed Hob's free hand and shoved the tool into it.  Hob screamed again and it was loud enough to make his soul ache.  He could feel his magic being drained by the gravity around the ruby and he managed, just barely, to get the tool into position.  

"Hob!"  Alec shouted.  "You have to break it!"  

Hob felt his heart stutter to a stop, only to start again seconds later, followed by wave after wave of pain.  It repeated again, and again, and he lost track of it all, until there was a voice nearby and something being shoved into his hands.  It was pressing tighter to the ruby, now, and the pain was getting worse.  Hob bit down another scream, tasting blood, pressing harder.  Another crack sounded, then another, then another.  

With one more twisting grunt of effort, Hob lifted his hand and slammed whatever the hell he was holding into the ruby, feeling it shatter under him, shards cutting into his hands and arms as the fire consuming him abruptly stopped.  He heaved in a desperate breath, gasping, but the tornado around the room was only getting worse, getting stronger.  

"Magnus!"

"Get down!"  

Hob blinked at the shards digging into his fingers, reaching out to try to tug one out of his fingers.  They hurt, but he couldn't feel them.  Why couldn't he feel them?  That wasn't good.  He should be able to feel his fingers, and they were bleeding, and he couldn't see the ruby shards anymore.  Why had he broken the ruby?  Dream was going to be so angry with him and perhaps he would never see the man again because he'd... he'd...

"...dreams, Hob Gadling."  

Hob closed his eyes and followed the order, the ache in his hands fading almost immediately.  He sat up on a beach, blinking in surprise.  He looked around, but there was nothing, only gates with magnificent carvings in them.  "Where..." he frowned and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling, his head swimming before he forced himself to focus.  A groan to his left had him spinning, and the sight of his friend, of Dream, he knew the name now, Dream, collapsed in the sand spurred him forward.  

"Dream!"  His friend didn't answer, only blinked at him blearily, clearly in pain.  "Come on, we need to get you help."  Hob crouched down and steadied himself to make sure that he didn't fall over before he hefted the both of them to their feet, striding towards the doors.  "Hey!"  He shouted.  "Anyone there, we need help!"  

While no one answered, the doors did open, and that was more than Hob had expected.  Keeping Dream propped up against him as he shuffled forward, Hob kept an eye out, but the only thing he could see for what seemed like miles was an overgrown forest and dilapidated buildings that were starting to fall apart.  They weren't completely destroyed, but they were in a serious state of disrepair.  "Is anyone out there?"  

Hob stumbled when Dream went from shuffling along next to him to dead weight and he barely managed to catch Dream before they were on the ground again.  He looked around, cursing the sight of absolutely no one.  He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down at Dream.  He was pale and clearly unconscious, but his chest was moving, and that meant something.  Looking up at the sky, Hob bit down on his lip before shouting.  

"Jessamy!"  There was no response, so he tried again.  "Jessamy!"  

Dream didn't stir, and Hob called out for Jessamy a handful more times before it was clear that no help was coming.  Reaching down, he lifted Dream into his arms and began to march forward, keeping away from the forest and whatever was hiding within.  Every once in a while, he called for help, but there was no one in sight, and the area around him continued to be bleak and lifeless.  Where the hell were they?  Why had they come here?  He stumbled and grit his teeth tighter together as he kept shuffling forward.  It's not like he knew where the hell he was supposed to bring Dream, but he knew he had to, at least, get them to some sort of shelter before he started trying to figure the rest out.  

Hob walked for what felt like thousands of miles, until at last, they were at a bridge, and across the bridge, a castle falling to ruin.  Suspecting that the castle would have more dangers than protection, Hob brought Dream into the shade of the bridge and leaned him back against the stone, fetching water for him from the nearby lake.  There were strange, silvery scars on his arms, but that was a problem he didn't need to think about right now, that was right.  He needed to focus on Dream being awake.  Wherever they were, that could wait. 

They waited, but something was wrong.  

The longer they waited, the darker the world around them began to get.  

Hob waited, but no matter how many times he called for help, there was no response, and Dream was growing colder and colder.  

Gritting his teeth, Hob hauled Dream into his arms and began to cross the bridge toward the dilapidated castle.  If the answer was in there, he would find it.  He would find a way to wake Dream.  

Every step closer brought the unsettled feeling to the forefront, and by the time he crossed through the torn apart front doors, Hob was aware something was very, very wrong.  The world around him was warping, the further in they went, and Dream was starting to tremble in his arms.  

"Hold on," Hob ordered, his voice reverberating, too loud, too much.  "Hold on, Dream, I'm going to find us help, I'm going to."  The words were a promise, but he didn't know if he could keep them.  Something was going to give, was going to break, and he was going to shatter apart under it.  

Turning the corner down another hallway, Hob stopped in what had once been a throne room.  

There, at the top of an endless staircase, was a throne, and in it, a shining golden light.  "Help!"  He shouted, not caring who could hear them now.  He tightened his hold on Dream, and moved as fast as he could, stumbling and slipping over the rubble in his path.  "Help him, you have to help him, please!"  

The light was shining brighter, and by the time Hob reached the bottom of the stairs, Dream was thrashing in his arms, shadows growing out of his body.  But there was still such a long way to go and not enough time.  Cursing, Hob put Dream down at the base of the stairs, panting hard, even as his friend thrashed against the marble.  

"Hold on," he ordered, his mouth dry as Dream's face creased in pain.  "Hold on, Dream, please."  Hob charged up the stairs, running, slipping, stumbling.  His hands were bleeding again, and he could see the slivers of ruby in them now, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was getting to the golden light.  It could help Dream, he knew it.  

Hob skidded to a stop in front of the light sitting on the throne and stared at it as it pulsed at him.  The shards in his hands pulsed in time, and he took a step closer, and then another.  He frowned when the light got brighter, reaching out for him and he reached out to touch the edges of it when there was a shout of his name, echoing around the throne room.  He jerked back a step, and the light in front of him grew bright enough to blind, but the spell was broken.  

Ripping off his jacket, Hob wrapped it around the light and grabbed it, yanking at it, violently, until with a shattering sound, it was separated from the throne.  He raced down the stairs, the stairs that seemed to be increasing.  For every two he ran down, there were another ten and Dream was getting further and further away.

"Dream!" Hob shouted.  His friend was unmoving, a still form at the bottom of the stairs.  "Dream!"  He made a desperate calculation and instead of racing further down the stairs, he jumped off the edge, falling stories, free falling among the stars and space, until he hit the ground, his body crumpling under the weight of the leap.  With the last of his strength, his eyes going dark with pain, Hob threw the ball of crystalized light at his friend, watching it roll across the marble floor.  

"Come on," Hob breathed, his bones aching and popping as he tried to crawl after it, but it was almost to Dream.  "Come on," he whispered.  When the light touched Dream's hand and disappeared, his friend jack-knifing upright, the kingdom roaring around them, Hob let himself collapse under the weight of his relief.  He'd done it, he managed it, he'd given it back, it'd never been his, he'd never wanted it, it was Dream's, always Dream's.  

Chapter Text

Hob snapped awake with a gasp, flailing, and was glad when there was a cold hand immediately holding onto his.  His eyes flew to Dream, but his friend was smiling, he was not unconscious and in pain, he was there, he was all right, and... he shuddered and dropped his head against Dream's shoulder, grabbing at him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't want it, why did... why did it think I did?"  

Magnus slumped and fell down to his knees on the floor as the power raging around the room at last seemed to settle and he breathed out a rough breath.  "Because," he said, rubbing his eyes.  "They tried to take his power for themselves.  The corruption assumed that whoever touched it would take it."  

Alec held out his hand to Magnus, giving him a pointed look until at last the warlock took it and began to pull from his strength.  

"That's why I ended up with so much of it," Magnus said.  "And why the ruby would have stolen the power from him and I rather than give it back.  But by destroying it, you released it, and then tried to keep it."

Hob coughed and shook his head.  "I didn't want to keep it," he corrected, taking another breath that felt less like fire in his lungs as he sat upright, rubbing at his head.  

"You wanted to keep it safe," Magnus amended.  "Which was enough.  But doing that took it all onto your shoulders, and you are... only human."  

"Right," Hob said, struggling to face Dream, rubbing at his face.  "Did it work?"  

Dream was quiet for a long moment before he nodded.  "It did.  I am more powerful than I have been in thousands of years.  And that is without the remaining power Magnus has yet to give me back."  

Hob sagged in relief, flopping to the floor.  He closed his eyes and thought about falling asleep right then and there.  "That," he cleared his throat.  "We won't be doing that again, right?"  

"No," Dream agreed.  "But now, I must return to the Dreaming."  

Hob thought about the land ravaged by time and the castle that was falling apart and felt tears come to his eyes for what his friend was about to come home to.  No one deserved that, and he knew what that kind of devastation could be like.  He turned his attention to Magnus and Alec, who were watching carefully, and glanced at the ceiling.

"We're still being chased by a Nightmare," Hob pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily.  "And he's paying very well, considering he flipped my entire crew and got them to come after us with very obvious and lethal force."  He swallowed.  "And we need to get your helm back."  

Dream paused with his hand on his sand and stood up in a flourish.  "You do not think it wise for me to leave yet?"  

"I think," Hob said, thinking of what he had seen, his heart aching for his friend and what he would have to face alone.  "That we can't fight your Nightmare.  We can get your helm for you.  We need your help for at least one of those things." 

Dream frowned.  “I cannot continue to be absent from the Dreaming, I must return.”  

“I have an idea,” Magnus said, stepping up to draw both of their attention to him.  “You let Alec and I pass out for several hours after the mess earlier.  The two of you go rest or visit the Dreaming.  Alec and I will keep watch in the meantime.”  

“Sounds good,” Hob said, pushing his fingers through his hair.  “Dying a few times over wore me out.  Come on.”  He reached out and took Dream’s hand and tugged him toward the bedroom that Magnus gestured to.  His limbs were still feeling shaky, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for hours.  

Dream stared at Hob in bemusement as the door was shut behind them, raising his eyebrows at Hob Gadling.  “I do not need to sleep.”  

Hob took a deep breath and reached out to take Dream’s other hand into his.  “Dream.”  He lifted his eyes.  “I know you need to go to the Dreaming, and I will not try to stop you.”  He hesitated, before continuing.  “But I would like you to take me with you.”  

Dream frowned.  “Why?”  

“I won’t get in your way,” Hob said.  “I know it is your realm, and your responsibility, and I do not wish to come between you and that, not ever.”  He hesitated before continuing.  “But if you need it, I wish to be there for you, after you have seen it.”  

Dream tensed and turned his full attention to Hob Gadling.  The seriousness in the tone told him all he needed to know about the state of the Dreaming, and his eyes fluttered shut, a small, pained noise escaping him.  “It is…” He could not bring himself to finish the sentence.  

“It is clearly hurting,” Hob said, keeping his voice gentle, giving Dream’s hands another gentle squeeze.  “But it is not beyond rebuilding, not with a caring hand.”  

Dream scoffed.  “A caring hand?  When you imply that my, that the Dreams and Nightmares have abandoned the Dreaming?  The Dreamers there?”  

“Yes,” Hob said, giving a firm nod.  “Especially then.”  He sighed and stepped in closer to Dream, meeting the ice blue eyes that were edging ever-closer to black.  “My friend.  They do not know what happened, how you were trapped.”  

“You waited,” Dream said, his voice edging into a growl.  “You remained loyal.” 

“And so I always shall,” Hob answered.  “But I’ve also had the practice of not seeing you for a century at a time, dove.  If I understand the tiniest bit about how your kingdom works, they are not used to such an absence.”  

Dream pressed his lips tighter together and gave a quick nod.  “A fair assumption.”  

Hob offered a small smile.  “So you must treat them with kindness, my friend.  Not softness, for if they have done wrong, they should be punished.  But to wield the hammer of punishment on all is to rule through fear.”  A small tremble went through Dream and Hob frowned, stepping closer.  “Dream?”  

Dream reached out and took one of Hob Gadling’s hands in his, tightening his hand around the fragile bones.  “Are you always meant to force me to face the uncomfortable realities of my existence, Hob Gadling?  I do not enjoy it.”  

This time a sad smile grew on Hob’s face and he twisted his hand to squeeze Dream’s right back.  “Did you not do the same for me when you knew I needed to hear your censure?”  

Dream closed his eyes and gave a single nod.  “Very well.  I shall bring you to the Dreaming with me.  If you think of me, it will lead you to me.”  

“All right,” Hob said and took a step toward the bed before hesitating again.  “Dream.”  

Dream turned a fraction to look at him.  “Yes?”  

Taking a chance, Hob reached out and pulled Dream into his arms for a tight hug, holding onto him tightly.  “All things can be fixed with time and patience, Dream.  We’re immortal.  We have the first.  We just need to try to have the second as often as we can.”  He gave Dream another squeeze and pulled back to look at him.  

(Somewhere, thousands of miles away and in an otherwise still garden, a book began rapidly flipping pages.  Another Endless, content with his interference, such as it was, smiled.) 

“Centuries have made you wise, Hob,” Dream said.  “But come.  Sleep.  I must return.”  

Hob nodded and climbed on the bed, sinking into the pillows with a happy groan.  “Feel free to relax on the other side of the bed while I pass out,” he said with a yawn, his limbs already starting to relax as he fell into the comfort offered by the bed.  “You don’t need to stand there all creepily.”  

If Dream responded, Hob didn’t know, because he was already falling asleep, his exhaustion getting the better of him.  

~!~

This time, when Hob landed in what had to be the Dreaming, there was already fresh grass growing in the fields around him and he grinned.  He closed his eyes and focused, thinking of Dream, of finding him, of offering him support when he might need it most, and began to walk.  In a matter of minutes, the bridge to the castle towered in front of him and he hurried across it, because there was something, now, in him, telling him that Dream was in there, waiting for him. 

Hob crossed the threshold to the castle, and the first thing he noticed was the ceiling, filled with galaxies and stars, making him grin.  Though there was still damage, it was clearly in the process of being repaired and he moved faster, his steps no longer weighed down as they had been in the past.  He hummed, bouncing a little as he walked on, making his way to the throne room. 

Unlike before, on his left, an impossible library was growing, books shelving themselves, and someone shouting orders.  It’s enticing enough that Hob almost stopped his advance to the throne room to peek in, to see what books might be there, if it was the library that Magnus had asked about, but he was a man on a mission.  He was going to see Dream, because he had no doubt that his friend needed a friendly face, if only to remind him that he was most certainly not alone.  

Turning another corner, he froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the stories-high columns, the ceiling of galaxies, and the marble floor of a throne room no longer covered in rubble.  Hob grinned and headed for the stairs, and the figure that he could see sitting on one of the lower steps, the one that his heart was pulling him toward.  He knew this, his heart knew it, and there was a joyful spring to his step as he kept advancing.  

“Excuse me, what are you doing here?”  

Hob blinked and turned to look at the woman standing beside him, holding a book and staring at him over her glasses.  The name came to him after a few moments, a name that both Dream and Jessamy had mentioned.  “Lucienne,” he stated, watching her eyes widen.  A caw above him had him catching sight of a familiar raven and he grinned, lifting a hand to wave.  “Jessamy!” 

She was flying toward the figure on the stairs, and Hob abandoned Lucienne (and her question) to jog down the length of the cavernous throne room, his steps echoing as he approached the staircase.  Dream was there, and Hob had never been so relieved to see that he was safe with his lips in a hint of a smile.  

“You found your way here much quicker than I imagined, Hob Gadling,” Dream said, looking at him.

Hob shrugged and laughed.  “Was a lot easier this time around.  I wasn’t carrying you the whole way, for one.  You don’t weigh much of anything, but after several miles, I got tired.”  

Dream stared at him.  “You carried me here?”  

“Well yeah,” Hob said, gesturing behind him.  “We both appeared on the beach on the other side of the Dreaming, and you passed out not long after we got through the doors.  I knew I had to get you here, so I did.  Then…” his gaze drifted to the throne and the staircase behind Dream.  It almost seemed to fluctuate under the look, but there was no shining ball of power sitting in the throne now, and something in his shoulders eased at the reminder.  He wouldn’t need to take any more swan dives off the staircase to give Dream his power back.  

Hob shook himself and gave Dream another broad smile.  “Then I had to pull some not-so-recommended shit to get you sorted, and to finish the curse thing.”  He stretched and looked around the castle again.  “This place looks amazing now.”  

Dream pressed his lips in a thin line, fighting down amusement.  “Have you looked behind you?”  

The answer had clearly been no, because had Hob Gadling looked behind him, he would have seen the path he’d walked, the flowers, sunlight, jewels, and brightening marble marking his path and his steps as obviously as anything he’d seen in the Dreaming.  He fought down a smile as Hob turned and gasped, looking at the joy, power, and excitement he seemed to be exuding from every step.  

“For the record,” Hob said, still staring at the daisies that were starting to grow around his feet.  “I’m not doing this on purpose.”  

Dream shook his head.  “It seems that your handling of the Ruby and your actions to free it from the curse have resulted in the Dreaming being far more sensitive to you than it would be to another.”  He smiled again.  “I suspect you will see similar reactions no matter where you travel here.”  

Hob sat down on the lowest stair and grinned up at Dream.  “Well, I supposedly need sleep and don’t plan to go anywhere until I, or we, need to wake up again.”  Reaching into the bag now at his hip, he pulled out a book and opened it to where he’d left off.  “I’ll be right here if you have need of me.”  

Dream blinked and glanced up at Lucienne, then to Jessamy, standing beside him, before he gave a nod.  If Hob was serious about staying there, and not interfering in the running of his realm, well.  He would trust that, or attempt to.  He turned his attention to Lucienne and gave her a nod.  

“You said that Gault wished for an audience?”  Dream asked, turning his attention to Lucienne, as though every fiber of his being was not attuned to the faint sound of the occasional page turn coming from Hob.  

“Yes,” Lucienne replied, slowly, her eyes still on Hob Gadling, sitting at the base of the staircase as though he thought he deserved to be there.  “Shall I fetch her?”  

Dream nodded and watched her step toward the library.  He turned his attention to the stained glass windows that he had not finished repairing and lifted his hand, focusing on them.  The sun was shining outside now and… With a twist of power that surged around the castle, the shattered glass flew back to the windows, arranging them into one design, then, after a frown, into another, then one final one.  

"Gorgeous."  

Dream startled, a few of the colors fluctuating as he looked down at Hob Gadling, who was watching the glass rise back into the windows, his expression awed.  He shifted the colors once more until there was golden light pouring in through the windows, illuminating his friend, sitting so comfortably at the base of the stairs.  He clearly approved by the way he leaned up and tipped his head into the light and Dream was captivated in how the color looked on his skin, on his hair, what it might be like if-

"My lord?"

Dream brought his attention back to Lucienne and Gault, now standing in front of him.  The Nightmare was clearly curious about the human who had made himself at home and was turning back to his book, but she had come here for a reason.  He nodded to her and watched as she began to fidget.  

"Gault," Dream spoke, his voice soft.  "You have requested an audience.  For what purpose?"  

Gault straightened her spine and cleared her throat.  "I wish to ask for a boon, Lord Morpheus."  

Dream raised his eyebrows and was aware that Hob was clearly listening to the conversation, no longer focused on his book.  His lips twitched.  So much for not being involved in some way. He brought his full attention back to his Nightmare.  "And what boon is that?"  

"I wish to be changed from a Nightmare into a Dream," Gault said, holding her head high.  "I am struggling to fulfill my function as you have charged me.  It no longer... feels right."  

Dream tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.  "And why might that be?  Is it your place to question your purpose, your reason for creation?"  

Gault hesitated.  "While I know there are some who would never do that, my lord, and I understand they are content as they are, my perspective has changed, and I wish to change with it."  

Dream settled back and stared at her for several long moments.  There was no doubt in her, and, perhaps more importantly, he could see the changes in her that had led to this.  But it was not her place to question her design, what he had made her for and why.  She was one of the Major Arcana, and with that came responsibilities that she could not simply shirk and move on to things she thought would be more pleasant.  

Dream stood up, his coat swirling around him, and stepped down the staircase.  "Gault, you have-" A page turned, and Dream stopped, blinking.  He looked back down to Hob Gadling, who was still sitting, not a word or a sound had escaped, and yet, he was clearly not reading.  He frowned, deeper and watched as he continued to pretend to read the book held in his hands.  

"My, my lord?"  Gault ventured.  

Dream turned back to her.  'So you must treat them with kindness, my friend.'  Hob's words echoed, and he shook his head, and faced her properly.  "You would be a Dream?"  

Gault tensed before nodding.  "I would, my lord, if you permitted as such."  

"And if I did not?" Dream asked, watching her.  

Gault straightened her shoulders and met his eyes.  "I would ask you unmake me, for living as a Nightmare is a fate that I no longer wish for."  

Dream closed his eyes and felt the truth of those words.  In another world, another universe, he could easily see himself raising his hand against her, to unmake her at her request, for daring to question his design for her.  That it was not what she was anymore.  Did he truly rule his creations through fear, and not understanding of their wishes and hopes?  They were dreams, and they knew, better than most, what that meant.

The weight of Gault's silence in the wake of her declaration, and the considering not-attention of his friend left Dream nearly trembling as he contemplated, as he truly understood for the first time, in far longer than he would admit, just what kind of King he was.  Lucifer would have been proud of such iron-fisted control, and it was that thought, more than any other, that spurred him forward to stand in front of her.  She was precisely as he had made her, but she was different now.  

Lifting his hand, Dream closed his eyes and felt sand gather around his fingers.  Tears were gathering as he carefully pulled at the strings of her being.  She was a shapeshifter, that would need not change, and she loved laughter, encouragement and... Dream felt it, the shift that had taken place at the very core of her, and reached out with the sand to touch it and to pull it fully into realization.  At the same time, he removed the need all Nightmares had to teach a lesson, tugging that from her easily, as though it had been an ill-fitting puzzle piece, not quite meant for the spot it had been placed into.  

When he lowered his hand, he smiled, faintly, before blinking his eyes open.  She dreamed of the freedom of a Dream, and what better Dream than flight?  A single thought, and large wings unfurled from her back and he stepped back, staring at her, meeting her wide and shocked eyes.  He watched her spin, delightedly, her eyes, her skin, her very existence brightening until it almost hurt to look at among the sun pouring into the throne room.  Dream did not need to look behind him to know that the stained glass now reflected the change of one of the Major Arcana, the joy that suffused such a change would be felt in all the Dreaming.  

Gault spun once more before bowing low before Lord Morpheus.  "Thank you, sir."  

"I am coming to learn," Dream said, his voice soft as he watched her.  "That things change, and no matter our original intentions, those changes will happen.  Resisting them and where they lead us does nothing but harm."  He reached out to touch her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, his eyes fluttering shut again.  "Take good care of our Dreamers, little Dream."  

Dream stepped back as Gault launched herself into the sky with a joyous shout, watching the trail of glitters and stars that followed behind her.  A tear escaped down his cheek, then another, and another.  

"Lucienne?" His voice sounded too raw, too pained, he needed to get himself under control.  "Please handle urgent issues.  I need a few moments."  

Chapter Text

Dream turned and strode up the stairs, not registering the commotion behind him, or the rapidly hissed conversation.  The tears were falling faster now, and the solace of his chambers, of a few precious moments of privacy, beckoned and he could not resist their siren call.  By the time he stepped behind his throne and into the large archway, Dream wanted nothing but to hide from them all.  

He went to slam the door, but it was caught, and Dream spun around, ready to snarl at Lucienne for the impudence, only to find Hob Gadling staring at him, the door edge still caught in his palm.  Dream watched him close the door, sealing them off from the Dreaming, to the only place in his Kingdom where, unless he welcomed another, they could not go.  

"You, you dare..." The words would have been more threatening if they had not sounded akin to a sob trying to work out of his throat.  

"I dare," Hob answered, reaching out to cup Dream's face and wipe away his tears.  "I know the pain of the realization you are going through.  You do not have to go through it alone, as I did."  

Dream snarled, throwing Hob's hand away from him.  "You do not know anything of ruling a Kingdom!  Of your creations, that are you in a way no other than can be fearing you when you-"

"When you love them so dearly that you would break yourself apart a thousand times over to protect and care for any of them?" Hob finished a small smile on his lips.  "My friend, there are a great many things I do not know about you, your Kingdom, and those who live within it.  But I know, and have always known, how much you cared."

Dream trembled, shaking with rage as he growled again, wanting to throw Hob Gadling out of his room, to allow himself the privacy to fall apart, to mourn the bed he had made for himself across his entire existence.  "You know nothing!"  

Hob hummed.  "I know you took my advice, even if you didn't want to."  He shrugged.  "I was impressed.  I didn't think you would, after she asked for something like that."  

And what had the kindness cost him?  Nothing.  Perhaps the time to create a new Nightmare, but that was time immaterial to the running of the Dreaming.  Before, he would have unmade her, to send a message to the others that they could not change, that he knew what was best for them, no matter what they told him of their experiences.  

"When I took your advice," Hob said, stepping into the room.  "About the shipping business.  When I looked into it, and truly forced myself to understand, to see what you had challenged me to look at..." he trembled and swallowed.  "Save the decades prior to 1689, it is the closest I have ever come to asking for your sister's gift."  

Dream's head snapped up and stared at Hob, his eyes wide.  "You... what?"  

Hob gave him a rueful smile.  "It was not something I ever had an intention of telling you, but I didn't..." he let out a breath.  "The lives I destroyed, not out of a need for safety or food as I had once with banditry, but for the sake of nothing but the money to be gained?  The lives I could not save?"  He tapped absently on his pants.  "When I started to unravel the fabric I had helped to weave, I was so overcome by horror and grief, I thought that my continuing to live, to have the chance to make a mistake of that magnitude again, that it should be stopped at all costs, for the good of humanity."  

"You are a good man, Hob Gadling," Dream said, emphasizing the words. 

Hob scoffed.  "After all I have done?  I am a man who has made mistakes and done his best to pay for them in a way that will no longer hurt others."  He shook himself.  "But you, you have a chance to fix your mistakes in a way that I never can."  

Dream looked to the door behind him and could feel the joy and surprise echoing across the Dreaming with Gault's new appearance and joy.  Even Lucienne was proud, and the sensation was a balm across his senses.  "It is only on your advice that I spared her another fate.  Had it been any other time, I would have unmade her."  

"Why?" Hob asked, stepping closer to Dream.  "Why unmake her for telling you the truth of who she is?"  

Dream trembled, staring down at Hob Gadling, the truth pressing against his lips, to admit what he had dared not ever since he had been trapped.  The ugly, horrible truth that...

"Dream," Hob breathed.  "It's me.  I'm not going to tell anyone.  I am loyal to you before all others.  If you cannot confide in me, about this, who could you confide in?"  

Dream wanted to laugh at the notion that he needed a confidant, that he needed someone to whisper his secrets to, to tell all of his darkest imaginings and brightest plans for the Dreaming.  But what would it hurt to admit to the help here and now?  Hob was dreaming, it was entirely possible he would remember none of this.  

"The Dreams and Nightmares, the Dreaming itself," Dream started.  "They are me.  I make them as they are, because I know them from the moment they are nothing more than a thought in my mind."  

Hob inhaled softly.  "Ah."  

"To have it said, repeatedly, by one of them, one of the most powerful I have created, that I did not know them as well as I had perhaps had at one point, and to go even a step further and..." he swallowed.  "And say that they had changed, implying that a part of me had changed and I did not know it, was not willing to acknowledge it..."  

"Dream," Hob coaxed, his voice soft as he reached out to touch his friend's arms, stepping as close as he dared.  "It's all right to change."  

"Endless don't change," Dream snapped.  But even as the words left his mouth, Delirium came, unbidden to his mind, concrete proof that not only were the words a lie, but the knowledge that not fixing this affliction could lead to far worse things.  

Hob chuckled and raised his eyebrows.  "I don't believe that.  I think you have changed.  I told you in 1889."  He shrugged.  "You didn't want to change as much as you did, and I think that's perfectly reasonable considering what you went through at the hands of that bastard and his son."  He paused and looked up at his friend.  "And if you need me to be the one to tell you that, as many times as need be, I will."  

"Why?" Dream asked, the word aching as he forced it out of his mouth.  "Why do you care what I do with my creations, how I treat them, any of this?"  

Hob's smile softened.  "Because I care about you, you ridiculous creature."  Not letting Dream think about that, or overthink anything else, he took Dream's hand.  "Now, come.  You need to think about something else for a few hours, and I need to hear the end to a story."  

Dream blinked in surprise at the hand enveloping his, focusing all of his attention on it.  "I have work to attend to."  

"Might just be an educated guess, but it looked to me that Lucienne had things well in hand," Hob said, shrugging.  "But if you truly do have work to do, I will not keep you."  He waited, looking up at Dream, his eyebrows raised.  

Dream knew, he knew that he should insist upon continuing his rebuilding efforts, should focus his attention on other parts of the Dreaming until everything had been put to proper rights.  But.  He swayed a fraction.  He'd done too much in a short period of time, between rebuilding the library, and as much of the castle, he had brought back to glory.  

"That's what I thought," Hob said, bringing Dream over to the lounge chair that was by the window, and encouraging him to lay down on it.  "Now, I know you don't need to sleep, but do you think I can persuade you to continue your story from earlier if I give you a scalp massage?"  

Dream lifted his head, incredulously, to stare at Hob Gadling.  "You wish to give me a scalp massage?"   

Hob laughed, his head falling back as he went to go get one of the pillows from the bed, tucking it easily under Dream's head where he was reclining on the chair now.  "Yes, yes I do.  I'm quite good at them, you know.  And since you did it for me earlier, it only seems right to return the favor."  

"You do not-"

"I wish to," Hob interrupted, settling against the chair in front of him, reaching out to comb his fingers through Dream's hair, sighing at how soft it was.  "Isn't that what you told me, earlier?"  

"You were hurting and had fallen into your own mind," Dream said, his voice soft as his eyes fluttered shut.  "You needed the help."  

Hob hummed and shrugged.  "And are you not hurting in your own way now, my friend?" he asked, keeping up the gentle combing motion as he worked through the long strands.  "My desire to have you not hurt has not changed and is not different from what yours was."  

Dream let out a shaky exhale, leaning into the fingers in his hair.  "Very well," he breathed.  

"When was the last time you let someone comfort you like this?" Hob asked, several long minutes of Dream's steady, deep breathing later.  

Dream opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of his room.  He thought of Calliope, of Nada, of Titania, of so many other lovers, all of whom had looked to him for strength, for comfort, for succor, and struggled to answer.  Who among them had taken him in hand to give him comfort such as this?

Hob waited, but no answer seemed to be forthcoming and his heart skipped several uncomfortable beats as he realized that his question might have been far more offensive than he'd intended.  "Dream?"  

"I do not know," Dream answered,  "Perhaps never, or it has been so long that I have forgotten.  I am the one who gives comfort to others.  Sweet dreams, gentle touches, comfort."  

Hob tightened his fingers in Dream's hair for a fraction of a second before he shifted, reaching out to hug Dream as best he could from behind, pressing his face into Dream's hair, holding onto him.  "You deserve comfort too," he murmured, nuzzling into Dream's hair.  "You deserve comfort, you deserve to be cared for."  

Dream scoffed.  "I am the King of Dreams."  

"And?" Hob challenged, sliding his hands up again and into Dream's hair.  "Does that somehow preclude you from ever needing any sort of comfort that you show others?"

Dream frowned. "'No, however, I am-"

"Dream, if you say it's because you are Endless, whatever the hell that actually means since you certainly haven't told me, I am going to pull some of your hair out," Hob said, giving a small, threatening tug, before he kept up the massage.  "Got it?"  

Hob blinked in surprise when a rumbling croak escaped from Dream and based on the way he went to cover up his mouth immediately, he had no doubt that he'd managed to make his friend, his dearest friend, laugh.  He'd imagined it so many times over, and to hear Dream with such a laugh, oh.  His heart ached in the best way.  

"Only took six hundred years to make you laugh, sounds like I'm making headway," Hob teased, going back to the gentle stroking of his hair.  "But seriously.  I don't mind.  I like doing this for you, and taking care of you in this way."  

"I do not need to be... taken care of," Dream said, huffing in annoyance.  "Though I thank you for the attentions, they are unnecessary."  

Hob shrugged and reached out to brush some of Dream's hair out of his face.  "You're welcome," he said, easily.  "Now, how about instead of complaining, you tell me the rest of that story from earlier.  Seems like we have a few minutes to ourselves and I very much want to hear the end of it."  

Dream closed his eyes and leaned back into Hob Gadling's hands and the gentle stroking.  He breathed in deep.  "The story of the Stranger, hm?"  

"I'm enjoying it," Hob said, his voice soft.  "If you wish to tell the rest."  

"Very well," Dream agreed, focusing on the ceiling before he let his eyes drift shut.  "When the human left the Stranger in 1689, he marveled at his desire to continue living, despite the awfulness life had shown him.  And so the Stranger resolved himself.  When they met again, the Stranger would offer a small part of himself in thanks for all that the human had taught him up to this point."  

Hob's breath caught and he closed his eyes, a shiver working down his spine.  He'd imagined their 1789 meeting dozens of times over, dozens of different ways, and now he was going to hear what it had been like from Dream himself.  

"The Stranger, for the first time, found himself eager for the meeting, and it seemed the human had fallen on better times.  Of course, as he discovered, his human was still very much a human, and prone to humanity's mistakes.  But while those mistakes could, and would, be rectified..." Dream reached up and touched one of Hob's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze as a reminder.  "The chance to sit together and tell stories once again was one that he relished, for the human was doing well, and it pleased something in the Stranger to see him doing well.  In fact, the human went so far as to present an opportunity the stranger had been waiting for.  His name was asked for, and he was of a mind to grant it to this remarkable human, who had taught him more than he could have ever expected."  

Hob bit down the smile that threatened, because he knew what happened next.  

"Unfortunately," Dream continued, tilting his head back and into Hob Gadling's hands when they resumed the slow petting.  "They were interrupted by Johanna Constantine, a woman whose reputation preceded her, though the Stranger suspected that the human knew her not.  She was an expert exorcist, and a master of the occult."  He smiled as he remembered those moments.  "While the Stranger spent precious moments concerned for the safety of the human beside him, he did not realize that the human had already decided on a course of action."  

Hob shivered and managed a quiet laugh, thinking of how he'd shown off, how he'd made sure that Dream was safe, that his stranger would be safe and protected.  Hell, he remembered laughing at the knife.  "I seem to remember hearing about a rather atrocious rendering of both of them to go along with it."  

Dream hummed.  "There was, yes."  

"I've seen such an image, and while I know not this human and this Stranger..." Hob gave a gentle tug to Dream's hair to show that he was not telling the truth about knowing who they were.  "I do think the picture does not suit them at all."  Another deep and rasping chuckle escaped Dream and Hob treasured the sound, grinning against his hand as he pressed in close to Dream.  

"Well, despite a very chivalrous rescue, the Stranger found his human threatened in a way that he did not approve of.  So he finished the fight in such a way that would ensure they were not followed."  Dream paused and remembered putting Constantine under the guise of her own memories, failed exorcisms, and the family she had lost.  It had been, perhaps, cruel, but it was an easy price to pay for Hob Gadling's freedom.  "The Stranger was relieved that they were both safe, however, he knew that it would be best for them to depart."  

Hob shivered, remembering the look, the heavy, weighted look that he had been given by Dream, even when he'd suggested that they find alternate accommodations for the evening.  He'd wanted nothing more than to explore that look and what it meant to his stranger, for them, but.  

"The human, not wanting their meeting to end so early, offered to find an alternate venue for the Stranger, but it was not meant to be that night.  The Stranger would have accepted-" Dream paused as he felt Hob gasp behind him.  "-had he not had a delegation of fae waiting for entrance to his realm later that evening.  He wished to stay, but could not.  So the Stranger, doing what he could, warned the human against capture and to stay safe, so they could meet again in one hundred years." 

"I am sure," Hob said, his voice soft and aching as he closed his eyes and tried to focus on continuing to comb through Dream's hair.  "That the human understood, even through his disappointment.  But even then, when his Stranger left, I have no doubt that he took his advice to heart and proceeded to do his best to take action in a way that the Stranger would be proud of him for."  

Dream reached out and took Hob's hands, pulling them carefully, until Hob was stepping around the lounger, not letting him go until Hob was sitting on the edge of it, facing him, his hands still engulfed in Dream's.  "And now we come to the part of the story I despise," he whispered.  "But I beg of you, do not let the darkest hour be the final one."  

Hob twisted his hands and tangled his fingers with Dream's, staring at him, before nodding slowly, swallowing hard.  "The night is darkest before the dawn," he breathed.  "And with any story, if there were not adversity and fights, what would the triumphs be in comparison?"  

Dream let out a breath and leaned down to press his forehead against their hands, holding Hob tightly, afraid to let go for even a second before he explained, as best he could.  "You are correct," he breathed and took another deep breath that he did not need.  "This is a part of the story I am afraid to tell, Hob Gadling."  

"Why?" Hob asked, scooting closer, making sure that he didn't do anything that could be interpreted as trying to pull his hands away from Dream.  "The rest of the story is familiar to me, don't you think this part would be as well?"  He offered another smile.  "Did Darcy not have to face the fierce and utter rejection of Elizabeth before he could change enough to be worthy of her?"  

Dream lifted his eyes, blinking in surprise, to stare at Hob Gadling, who was, of all things, smiling at him, somehow.  "He did, yes."  

"Then, like Darcy, I am sure they will grow," Hob promised.  "Please keep telling the story, Dream.  I truly do wish to hear the end of it."  

Dream nodded and closed his eyes, reaching for that night in 1889, and the triumphs and pain that it held for both of them.  "By the time..." he cleared his throat and tried to focus.  "By the time they had reached five hundred years of knowing one another, the Stranger had come to have expectations on their meetings.  Good ones.  A night of good company and a night of stories shared."  He paused and then forged ahead.  "Especially since the preceding years had not been kind ones to the Stranger, but that is another story for another day."  

Hob squeezed Dream's hand, his heart aching.  He'd guessed as much, simply based on Dream's demeanor alone, but he hadn't wanted to suggest it.  

"The Stranger met his human, and the air... was different."  Dream blinked his eyes open to focus on their hands held between them.  "There was something the human clearly wished to say, a burden on his chest that he wished to lift, and yet he seemed hesitant.  The Stranger did what he could to be welcoming, to be open to any conversation that the human wished to have.  After all, the human had been so willing to accept his advice in the past, and if he could help in any way, he wished to." 

Hob did his best to brace himself for what he knew was coming, tightening his hold on Dream's hands, both of their knuckles white as they clung to that single point of contact as Dream continued the story.  

"The Stranger told him the story of another bar patron, but where in the past such a demonstration of his knowledge would have prompted awe, this time, there was such sadness in the human's face, and the Stranger did not know why."  Dream smiled faintly and stroked his thumb over Hob's knuckles, staring down at them.  "It was only after the human asked questions that he deserved to after so many years, demanding answers of some fashion that the Stranger considered answering them, considered explaining, at long last, to the human, what he was, and why he was truly there."  

Hob bit down on his lip and kept himself silent.  There was nothing that he would allow to interrupt this story.  

Dream lifted his eyes to look at Hob and nearly reeled back from the tears he saw gathering there.  But the look in Hob's eyes demanded he continue, that he not stop here.  "Then the human said something the Stranger could not agree with.  That he had not changed.  It was... an astounding observation, from what the Stranger could see.  To become a learned man, a wealthy man, to live lifetimes through sorrow, and joy, to triumph, to make mistakes, the human had lived in a way that the Stranger had not thought possible those five hundred years ago.  So he challenged the idea.  Only to find himself challenged in return."  

Hob tasted blood from his lip and cursed.  "Dream-"

"Shhh," Dream said, shaking his head.  "The words uttered by the human then would haunt the Stranger, for years, and into his captivity.  They were worse than the most clever torture, because in their truth, a truth the Stranger had not wanted to admit for eons, to be observed by a human, it was terrifying.  If it could be seen so easily by a human, who else could have seen?"  

"I am sure," Hob said, his voice cracking.  "The human never meant to hurt his Stranger."  

Dream smiled faintly.  "I am sure of it.  But when the deepest truth of the Stranger's reality was laid bare, that he was lonely, and he sought out the company of the human for the comfort it would bring... he was not ready to face it.  And more than that, more than being unready to face it, he was unable to respond in an appropriate fashion.  He lashed out, angrily, at the human who had dared to see him, to see the truth of what he was, and how he existed."  

Hob leaned down to press a kiss to their joined hands, his breath coming heavy and shaky.  "I am sure the human was sorry."  

"Not as sorry as the Stranger was, shortly after their meeting," Dream answered, his voice soft and gentle.  "He had not wished to be seen, to be perceived, and yet, this remarkable human had managed to do so, and the Stranger wondered what else he could have seen of him.  To call a human a friend..." He exhaled.  "To call any, a friend.  That was not a luxury the Stranger had allowed himself for longer than he could remember.  He had his work, and his distance to keep others safe.  That was how he lived, and you were right to call it lonely.  It was, and he knew it, and somehow... the human saw that too."  

"Because," Hob swallowed, watching as Dream continued to stroke over his fingers.  "Because the human was lonely too.  After losing everyone save the Stranger for five hundred years, how could he not recognize loneliness?  How could he not recognize the same ache in his own soul in another?"  

Dream steadied his fingers so they stopped shaking and looked at their hands, tangled together.  He lifted his eyes to Hob's and the tears that were now trailing down his cheeks and he had closed his eyes with a small noise.  "The story does not have an ending yet," Dream admitted.  "They are still writing their story, though the Stranger hopes-"

"Dream," Hob interrupted.  "Look at me."  

The command rankled, even if he was eager to obey it, and Dream lifted his eyes once again and met the smiling ones that had his heart turning over in his chest.  But like this, he could see the raw emotion boiling in Hob Gadling's eyes, the same that had been there for centuries, and he held on to their hands tighter, clinging, refusing to let go.  

Hob took a shaky breath and reached out, brushing aside the faint tear tracks, stroking his knuckles along Dream's cheeks.  "They are writing their own story now.  And they are writing it together, aren't they?  Neither one of them will be lonely while the other exists, because they are together."  

Dream hesitated.  "For now, they are."  

"Right," Hob said, shifting to straddle Dream's hips, pushing him back to the lounger, keeping their hands tangled together as he grinned.  "Well, then I think I have only one question for you, my Stranger."  

Dream shivered under the possessive tone, looking up at Hob who was leaning over him, pressing him back into the cushion and pillows.  "What question is that, Hob Gadling?"  

"Do you think I am going to let you be alone for a single second longer?" Hob asked, leaning in to brush their noses together.  "I know how to dream myself into your throne room, into your library, and now into your bedroom in the Dreaming.  I know that you are, and have been alone for far too long, and since I have no intention of ever asking your sister for her gift, I'm not going to abandon you any time soon."  

"Hob-"  

Hob pressed a finger to Dream's lips.  "Answer the question.  Do you think I'm going to let you be alone for a single second longer when I don't believe you wish to be?"  

Dream let out a low growl against the finger pressing to his lips.  "No, however, there are considerations that need to be taken into account."  

Hob laughed and leaned in, wrapping his arms around Dream's shoulders, draping himself as close as he could get to the Dream Lord, staring at him and the bright pink of his lips.  "Can those considerations wait until after I have kissed you?  Been dreaming of that for a long time, you know."  

Dream's breath stuttered in his chest, breath that he didn't need, nor want, but it was there, nonetheless. “It is unwise,” he whispered.  

“Unwise has never stopped me from doing a single bloody thing I have wanted my entire life,” Hob said, raising his eyebrows with a smirk.  “In fact, the only thing that will stop me from kissing you, my lord Dream King-” he felt the shiver that ran up Dream’s entire body and smirked.  “-is if you tell me you do not wish to be kissed.”

Dream exhaled shakily, staring up at Hob Gadling, the certainty in his eyes.  While there was desire there, it was banked, and it truly did seem that all Hob Gadling wished for was a kiss.  “I wish to be kissed.”  The words felt hot, forbidden and dark, but the grin they gained him lit Hob Gadling from within until he was shining.  

“Good,” Hob said, following the tug of Dream’s hands to seal their lips together.  Here, dreaming, it felt as though every sense was amplified hundreds of times over, setting him aflame from a single kiss.  There was no need to part for air, other than to hear the small whine that escaped Dream when their lips fell apart.  

“I have you, beloved,” Hob promised, leaning in to kiss Dream again, pressing him back into the lounger, cupping his face as he devoured him, licking into his mouth, teasing him with deepening the kiss until they broke apart, this time so he could properly take Dream in, and the way his eyes, shining with the brightest stars, pinned him into place.  

Dream closed his eyes and pulled Hob in, resting their foreheads against each other.  He tangled his fingers in Hob Gadling’s hair and let himself savor the idea of using that same hair to yank him into desperate kiss after desperate kiss.  But that was not a fantasy he could indulge in, or one that others could.  Allowing a few more precious moments, memorizing the bruised feel of his lips, Dream looked at him once again.  

"Hob."  

"Before..." Hob sighed and tipped himself forward and rubbed their noses together again, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced himself to look at Dream.  "Before you give me what I am sure in your mind, are several very good reasons to reconsider wanting to be with you in every way that I can, hear me out?"  

Dream frowned.  "Very well."  

Hob took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting, before he pinned Dream in place, staring at him.  "I love you."  He made sure the words landed, and by the faintest widening of Dream's pupils, they had.  "I am in love with you, Dream of the Endless.  I loved you before I knew your name, and I love you more, now, after I have received the gift of it."  

"Hob Gadling-"

"You said you would let me finish," Hob interrupted, narrowing his eyes at Dream until Dream acquiesced with a nod.  "Right.  So."  He took a deep breath.  "That's the important part out of the way, you knowing how I feel about you."  He gave Dream a rueful grin.  "You could tell me this is the only time I would ever get to kiss you and while I cannot deny I would dream of more, I would be happy, and satisfied with that, because it is more than I ever expected to receive."  

Dream's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he forced them open again.  He was glad they were having this conversation in the Dreaming, where he could feel the thrumming sincerity from Hob in every word that echoed around him.  

"I do not want you because you are powerful.  I do not want you because of anything you can give me.  I do not love you for any of those reasons," Hob said, his voice softening.  "I love you because when I had nothing else, nothing at all, I still had you.  I love you because you did not hesitate to censure me when I had done wrong to teach me to be better.  I love you, because anthropomorphic personification or not, you have your flaws and I love them just as much."  He met Dream's eyes and smiled at him, just a little.  

"Whatever your concerns, whatever your worries, and whatever reasons you are going to give me for not pursuing my feelings for you, I will accept them as I have always accepted your wisdom," Hob continued, his voice softening.  "But that will not change how I feel, my dearest friend.  I suspect, no matter how long I end up living, it will never change."  

Dream wanted to protest, wanted to rage against the idea that a human could have feelings that would last so long, that would not turn sour and turn against itself.  But then... hadn't Hob Gadling already shattered that expectation?  Several dozen times over?  Surviving in spite of what he expected of humanity, exemplifying the best and worst at different parts, and all of it so very gloriously human at its base.  

Hob took another deep breath and met Dream's eyes.  "And no matter where we go after this, after we get everything with your power sorted, and Magnus and Alec are both safe, you can permanently return here, where you need to be."  He paused and rubbed their noses together.  "Those things are not going to change.  They are a lodestone of my life, just as you are.  They point me to the north, and they have yet to steer me wrong."  

"I am not good, Hob Gadling," Dream said, looking at him.  "To select me as your true north, your, your guide is to place ill faith in me."  

Hob tilted his head and studied Dream.  "Why?"  

"Why," Dream scoffed.  "The trail of failed relationships in my wake, the heartbreak, the arrogance, all of it with, based on what has been said, an unwillingness to listen.  I am not one that has been kind to my lovers, my relationships."  

Hob raised his eyebrows and smiled.  "Well, if it makes you feel better."  He settled back into Dream's lap a fraction.  "I already am well-acquainted with your arrogance, so no surprise there.  And yes, in the past you have been unwilling to listen, but I have seen you do differently as recently as with Gault.  And as for being kind to me..." he paused and shrugged.  "You have never been anything but unflinchingly kind when I have needed it." 

Dream wanted to protest the certainty in those words, the surety in them, because he had also been tremendously unkind to Hob Gadling at multiple points.  But Hob still smiled at him, his eyebrows raised, waiting for the challenge.  He dropped his eyes to Hob's throat and stroked a thumb down the full length of it, admiring his skin, and perhaps how it would even look with his marks in it.  

"Being trapped for as long as I have has made me rethink things I otherwise would not have considered," Dream allowed, still watching his fingers and the slow sweep of them.  "When you are alone with nothing but your thoughts, they are all you can pick apart."  

Hob hummed and settled close to Dream again.  "My point, in all of this, dove, is that you keep trying to push me away.  You keep trying to convince me that you are not worth trying, and that you are not worth keeping.  But you are the only thing in my life that I find worthy of being kept.  So we are at odds."  

Dream refocused on Hob Gadling, who was almost glowing with the conviction behind those words.  Something in him, long-buried since the heartbreak of Calliope, lit up at the care in them.  He reached out and drew Hob in closer, settling the human against his chest, holding him close as he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling of galaxies in his bedroom.  

"You came for me when you heard I was trapped," Dream said, his voice soft.  "When Jessamy found you.  You came for me."  

"I did," Hob agreed, pressing his nose to Dream's neck.  "I would always come for you.  Didn't matter where I needed to go or what we needed to do.  I will always come for you.  Because you're my friend, because I care, and because I love you.  Those things will not change."  

Dream swallowed hard, once again drowning in the absolute certainty of those words.  Had Hob Gadling always possessed this level of conviction, or was this something new in this century?  Had something happened to make him so sure of his thoughts and approaches to life?  

"I would hope," Dream said, and paused.  "Let me rephrase."  He started again.  "In the event that you yourself are ever captured, or taken prisoner in such a way, call for me.  I will hear you, and I will come for you.  For I would return the same sentiment to you, in full."  

Hob pressed his face tighter to Dream's neck and held on as tight as he dared.  "I will.  Hopefully, I never have to use that sort of a summons, but if I need to, I will, Dream.  I swear it."  

The promise eased something in him that had been roiling, an upset, angry thing.  Dream relaxed and leaned back against the lounger, the weight of Hob enough to keep him grounded and in the Dreaming.  "You are aware that I will not be able to see you every day, or even frequently, by the normal measure of most relationships."  

Hob tilted his head up to look at Dream, grinning brightly.  "Considering we've moved from denying the idea of a relationship entirely to talking about how frequently you're going to see me in one, I'm not going to complain about anything, dove."  He leaned up and kissed the edge of Dream's jaw, humming against his cool skin.  "I understand that you are busy.  As long as I am welcome to visit your library here, and to see you on occasion while I dream, I can wait as long as need be to see you in my world."  

"It need not..." Dream paused.  "It need not be every hundred years, if we do not wish it."  

Hob laughed and grinned against Dream's skin.  "Nothing would make me happier than to see you more frequently than once a century, Dream.  Maybe we could do once a year?  Or something similar?"  

Something in Dream relaxed at the suggestion, because that, that was a request that he could fulfill, and perhaps if there were opportunities, he could visit more frequently than that.  "That is an acceptable compromise.  Once a year, on the day."  He frowned, considering something.  "We may have to allow for different meeting locations, so you may travel and live as you wish."  

Grinning, Hob lifted himself off of Dream's chest and leaned in for a kiss, tangling his fingers into that wild hair.  He didn't bother keeping this one gentle, diving in for a hard kiss that left the both of them groaning as their lips parted with a slick noise before they dove in for more.  He kissed Dream until they were both clutching at each other, trying to move closer, trying to get more.  

"I think I've mentioned I love you?" Hob said, his eyes flicking up to Dream's with a grin.  "Several times over?"  

Dream nodded.  "You have."  

Hob laughed and leaned in for another kiss.  "Once a century, we will meet at the White Horse.  Yearly, we will meet wherever I am, be that England, or any other country that has taken my fancy.  Deal?"  He pressed a quick kiss to Dream's lips and raised his eyebrows at him.  

"With one caveat," Dream said, staring at the bruised red of Hob Gadling's lips, the urge to lean up and sink his teeth into his lip almost impossible to resist.  "If I can, I will visit more often.  Would that be all right?"  

"Love," Hob breathed against Dream's lips, just to watch him shiver.  "I will welcome you any time that you join me, anywhere that you join me.  You will always be welcome.  You have my promise on that."  

Dream nodded and pulled him into another kiss, relaxing into the steady press of his mouth.  There was no urgent press for more, with all that was waiting for them in the Waking world, it was for the best that they did not get carried away here together.  But the closeness, the promise of more that was steadily blooming between them, that he would savor for as long as Hob Gadling allowed. 

Chapter Text

Hob could have spent hours coaxing the Dream King into more kisses, slow and languid ones, until he had begun to memorize the taste of Dream's mouth, but he was aware that the day before, the Dreaming had been in almost ruins.  So with one more gentle press of their lips together, and a slow stroke through Dream's hair, he pulled back to smile at Dream.  

"Hob?" Dream asked, blinking himself back into alertness.  "Is everything all right?"

Hob smiled and brushed their noses together.  "Yes, but I don't want to monopolize all of your time, Dream.  You have a realm that needs you, and I have time.  We have time.  But you need to finish putting things to rights."  

Dream let out a breath and nodded, because he could feel the truth of that statement.  While the Dreaming had breathed a sigh of relief at his return when he stepped back into his role, there was still much to repair.  

Hob grinned and kissed Dream again quick, before climbing off of him and holding out his hand, helping him off the lounger.  "Come on, I can finish my book and we can head back downstairs."  He squeezed Dream's hand and tugged him to the door before pausing, looking back at Dream.  "Do uh, do I need to be discreet?"  

Dream blinked and tilted his head.  "With?"  

Hob looked back at him, pointedly, and raised an eyebrow, before lifting their hands between them.  "Us?  Me?  I'm not sure-" He gasped into the kiss and hard press of Dream's lips, his eyes fluttering shut as Dream cut him off, only to pull away seconds later.  

Dream squeezed Hob's hand tighter and stared at him.  "No.  You do not," he stated, before tucking Hob's hand into the crook of his arm and leading him down the stairs.  

Hob flushed, his cheeks red as Dream walked down the stairs, arm in arm with him, well-aware that the Dreams and Nightmares were lingering in the throne room.  But he kept his head held high.  He would never be embarrassed about being with Dream, or the fact that he loved Dream of the Endless with everything in him.  There was no shame to be had for something like that.  

At the base of the stairs, Hob smiled into the kiss that he was given, and returned to his book and spot at the base of the stairs, unable to keep from grinning as Dream descended and walked further into the room to speak with those there.  There was something about watching the statecraft of being King of the Dreaming that Hob couldn't look away from, as Dream reassured and reached out to his people.  

Around them, the castle was continuing to repair itself, and Hob could see the weather turning, shifting to a pleasant summer day compared to the dreary gray that it had been for too long.  He didn't know how long it was before the world around him started to flicker and Hob realized that he was waking up.  Dream was deep in conversation with several on the other end of the Throne Room, so Hob didn't disturb him, merely waved to Jessamy and let himself wake.  

-

The room was dark, and Hob glanced over to Dream, who was still clearly in the Dreaming, despite the physical form here, and crept out of the room to see how long he'd been out for.  Thankfully, neither Magnus nor Alec looked to be surprised at his reappearance.  

"Sleep well?" Magnus asked, grinning a fraction.

"Better than expected," Hob shot back, tilting his head at the stains on Magnus' shirt and pants.  "What have you been up to?"  

Magnus tilted his head to another room.  "Setting up the summoning circle for Choronzon.  Need to make sure he doesn't bring anything else through with him, since having Lucifer Morningstar in my house is one thing I would very much like to avoid."  

Hob blinked.  Right.  The devil was real, and it was a Duke of Hell that had Dream's helm that they needed to get back.  "I'm going to be spending years figuring out how to handle all of this shit," he muttered to himself, rubbing at his face before he nodded.  "Which reminds me, I wanted to ask a question."  

"What question?" Alec asked, stepping out of the summoning room, and wiping the last of the chalk off his hands.  

Hob glanced over at the two of them and the easy way they moved around each other.  "The feather that you're supposedly giving the guy.  Is that going to give him some sort of insane power?" 

"That is a bit of a problem," Magnus allowed, sighing.  "An archangel's feather, used in the right magical context, is the equivalent of a magical nuclear bomb."  

Hob's eyes snapped wide and he took a step back.  "We can't give him that."  

Magnus swallowed and tilted his head.  "There's nothing equivalent of value to a Duke of Hell that we could give him in exchange for an Endless' helm.  If I challenge him for it, he could easily ask the Morningstar to be his Champion."  

That... Hob shook his head and frowned.  "There has to be another way.  What if we could give him something else of similar power?"  

"Do you have a suggestion?" Magnus asked, his voice turning snappish.  "Because with almost five hundred years under my belt, and a substantial amount of magical power in me, I can assure you that there is-"

"I have an idea," Alec said, suddenly quiet as he stared at the summoning circle.  "I have something I can give him."  

Magnus turned and frowned at the shadowhunter.  "You can't do anything.  You'll end up changing the timeline.  That's the last thing that you can afford."  

Alec shook his head.  When he'd met Magnus, when he'd started looking into an immortality spell, he had had two of the archangel feathers, not one.  Which meant that right now, right here, they had another option.  And after two hundred and fifteen years of life, Alec knew what it was.  He glanced at Hob and had to huff a laugh.  Eighth-generation descendant, meant from one of the original families, and he knew how to use them?  

Destiny had been more right than he'd expected.  There was much that he needed to do here.  

"It has to be me," Alec said, certainty settling into his bones.  "I have something that he wants.  Something almost invaluable to a demon."  The second he had said it aloud, he became more sure by the second and he stood up, striding for Magnus' library.  "Magnus, I need the Summarian tome.  The one you pretend you don't have when Ragnor asks about it."  

Magnus blinked and stared after the shadowhunter in shock.  "How, how do you know about that?"  

Alec shook his head.  "I don't have time to explain, I need it.  It can tell me what I need to know.  And you're going to tell Dream we're not giving a Duke of Hell an archangel feather."  

"Are you sure he'll trade for whatever you're willing to offer?" Hob asked, stepping forward.  "That has to be paramount, getting Dream his Helm back."  

Alec lifted his eyes to Hob Gadling and grinned at him.  "I think, when he hears what my plan is, he'll agree to it, for more than one reason."  

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest.  "This had better not result in you dying, Alexander, I don't know future me, obviously, but I know that he would be furious if I allowed any sort of harm to come to you."  

"This is why I'm here," Alec said with another nod.  "I can feel it.  Intervention by an Endless isn't unheard of, but intervention by the one who sent me here is.  This was not just about saving Dream and Hob at the safe house.  This is more, and this is why I'm here."  

"Are you-"

"I'm sure," Alec said, nodding again.  He took a deep breath.  "I need the book, Magnus, and then you're going to have to help me translate the ritual when I have it.  This is going to hurt rather badly, and I don't want to mess it up."  

Hob stepped closer.  "What are you going to do?"  

Alec looked up at the human who was clearly worried, the descendant of one of the nephilim, and grinned at him.  "I'm going to give him something that he cannot turn down, but has nowhere near the power of an archangel feather.  I'm going to give him my angelic power."  

"Your-" Hob paused and swallowed.  "Your angelic power?  You're an angel?"

"Nephilim, actually," Alec corrected.  He reached down and pressed a hand to the scar of his parabatai rune and took a deep breath.  "Descended from the original family lines too, so about as old and powerful as it gets."  

"This is an atrocious idea," Magnus said.  "I cannot allow you to go ahead with it."  

Alec scowled at him and took the book that Magnus offered.  "If you can honestly tell me that handing an archangel feather to a Duke of Hell, who will then turn it over to Lucifer, is a better idea, then we'll go with your plan."  

Magnus bit down a noise and sighed, turning to look up at the ceiling.  "That doesn't mean that it's a good idea.  You don't know what it's going to do to you."  

"Nah, that piece is the only one I'm not worried about," Alec said, shaking his head.  "I've got enough of your magic in me, that once I'm no longer a nephilim, I have no doubt I'll be a full-fledged warlock."  

Magnus pressed his lips tighter together, wishing that he could dispute that statement, but it was the truth.  Alexander Lightwood-Bane had a tremendous amount of his magic in him, and all of it was in him willingly, even while he bore runes, a contradiction that he had never thought possible until he'd seen it today.  

"What's going to happen when you give angelic power to a demon?" Hob asked, reaching up to rub his temple, wondering what kind of a world he lived in where that was a reasonable question to ask of the people that he was staying with.  "Is it going to make him more powerful than anything else?"  

"It will likely elevate him above the level of a Duke of Hell," Alec agreed.  "Perhaps he could even fight another Prince of Hell for their territory, but I suspect he won't dare.  They command too many legions at their beck and call."  Alec tapped on his thigh and settled in one of the seats, pressing a hand to his chest, and breathing in deeply.  He reached out along the bond with Magnus, even stretched as far and as thin as it was, reaching for the comforting feeling on the other end of it all.  Though it was faint, there was a pulse back and a small tug.  

Magnus pressed his lips together.  "That's a far more acceptable level of risk," he allowed, even as he watched the shadowhunter reach in and pluck at the magic that was sitting in the deepest parts of his soul.  "However, what of the risk to you?  What if it prevents you from being able to get back to your own time?"

"It won't," Alec said, shaking his head.  "Magnus is already gathering power to bring me back.  I can feel him.  Once I give the signal, he'll snap me back."  He opened his eyes and looked at the Magnus beside him.  "You know I'm going to have to take your memories with me?"  

Magnus tensed and clenched his eyes shut.  "You won't-"

"I won't erase them," Alec promised, stepping in close.  "I would never do that to you.  I'll take them and keep them with me, and when I go back to my own time, the first thing I will do is give them back to you.  I would never take your memories away like that."  

"Right," Magnus said, swallowing hard before he nodded.  He summoned a sapphire to his fingertips and held it out to Alexander.  "You'll need this to store them, then.  When you decide to leave."  

Alec closed his hand around the stone and tucked them away.  "Thank you, Magnus," he whispered.  "Now, one other thing."  He turned back to the human of the group and smiled at him.

"Come here, Hob," Alec called, moving over to the couch where his weapons were all spread out.  He moved them to the table and settled them out, as well as his bow.  He stroked a finger over it and with a wash of magic, had its duplicate sitting on the table in its place.  He could never give up his bow.  His swords, his daggers?  Easily, but his bow?  Never.  It belonged to Magnus, after all.  

"What's wrong?" Hob asked, glancing at him.  

Alec reached out and took one of the daggers and handed it to Hob, hilt first, watching him take it easily.  "Anyone who is not a Nephilim, who holds one of these weapons, immediately finds themselves going crazy under the influence of the power they give off."  

Hob tensed, staring down at the blades, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.  "But I-"

"You used them without issue," Alec agreed, smiling faintly.  "Which is what you heard us briefly discuss earlier.  You are a descendant of a nephilim, eight generations or so ago, likely one of the first families, who decided to forswear the shadowhunter life to live as a simple human." 

Hob blinked and stared at Alec.  "I... have no idea what to think about that."  

Alec laughed, his head falling back.  "Honestly, I wouldn't think about it at all, except to warn you of other people who might touch these weapons.  They are dangerous and you need to keep that in mind."  He shrugged and gestured to them.  "I'm leaving these here with you."  

Hob's eyes widened.  "You are, why?"  

Alec's smile softened and he stared at Hob.  "Because after we do this ritual, I'm likely not going to be able to touch them any longer."  He gestured to the bow.  "I'm keeping this for sentimental reasons, and because unlike the Seraph blades, it won't kill me if I hold it."  

Hob swallowed and looked to the blades and the runes drawn up the length of them.  "They're not made of steel, are they?"  

"No," Alec answered.  "In fact, I think you're going to talk to Dream about bringing them to his realm for safety, baring perhaps one knife here for you in case you encounter any demons."  He lifted the blade and held it out to Hob.  "This is adamas.  It is what angelic weapons are made out of.  It is lethal to any demonic force."  He met Hob's eyes.  "You are going to need them."  

There was an odd echo to Alec's voice in that moment, and a shiver ran up Hob's spine.  The sibling of Dream's who had sent Alec back in time to them.  Was this really what he'd sent them for?  "For what?"  

Dream stepped out of the bedroom and looked between the other three.  "You're going to need your items of state, Hob Gadling.  These will do quite well, and I can teach you to forge adamas into something else that would also befit you."  

Hob relaxed a fraction at Dream's reappearance and nodded, looking down at the weapons.  "So you heard everything, yeah?"  

"I did," Dream agreed.  "However, there is one more problem I would have you aware of.  Alec Lightwood-Bane has a great deal of angelic power at his disposal.  While it is not the same as handing over an archangel's feather, it is too much to hand over to any demon."  

"Already got a plan for that," Alec said, glancing up at Dream, and then over to Magnus.  "I'm going to play conduit, but I will keep Magnus' magic separate.  If Magnus passes enough magic through me, it's going to start to burn it out of me."  

Dream frowned.  "That is going to... what you're suggesting will burn away the very core of what you are as a Nephilim."  

Alec huffed out a laugh.  "Yeah, but I'm going to turn around and carve it out anyways."  He held out the book and flipped to the ritual that he'd looked at hundreds of years ago now and turned the book toward Dream.  "This one.  I can sacrifice my blood.  In another nephilim, they'd be left human, but I'm not only human."  

"You need to be alive to do that," Hob pointed out.  "And the last time, Dream nearly killed Magnus under the weight of the transfer.  We don't have enough time to do that again, let alone the, what, dozen times that Dream said he needed."  His eyes darted up to Magnus, who had been quietly sipping a glass of whiskey for the last several minutes without contributing.  "Not to mention, Magnus is the one doing the power transfer."  

"There's much less risk to do it the way Alec is suggesting," Magnus answered, looking at them, his lips twisting into a wry grin when the shadowhunter gave him a quick smile.  "Alec would be the go-between, rather than me being directly there for Dream to pull from."  He frowned.  "It will hurt, though."  

Alec shrugged.  "That's fine."  At the angry expressions on all three of their faces, he held up his hands, his face firming.  "Now, before all three of you try to go protective on me."  He pointed to Dream.  "You need your power back to keep this realm from ripping apart, and in the event that anything happens during the exchange with Choronzon and we are pulled into Hell, you need to be at full strength to challenge Lucifer."  

He turned to Hob.  "You might be six hundred years older than me in our time, but you don't know me, here.  You don't know how I was raised, or what I have been trained to do.  I understand that you wish to spare me pain, but I will be fine."  He gave Hob a stern frown until he'd looked away and turned his attention to Magnus and sighed, staring him down.  

"You don't know me yet, Magnus," Alec said, standing up and walking over to the warlock, who was still scowling and shaking his head.  He stepped closer.  "You haven't seen the things I've gone through, and the pain I've endured, both to save you, over and over again, and to keep others safe."  He reached out and took Magnus' arms into his fingertips and looked at him.  "This is going to hurt, but it is pain that I will willingly bear to keep you safe and ensure you come out on the other side of this."  

"If something happens to you..." Magnus started and shook his head.  "I would never forgive myself."  

Alec huffed out a laugh and leaned in to press their foreheads together.  "Magnus.  If I have learned one thing about you in all the times you and I have been thrown into the past and future, one thing has always been certain for the both of us."  He waited until Magnus had swallowed before he continued.  "We are at our safest, and our best, and have the easiest chance of getting back home when we are together.  That has never changed and will never change.  I will be all right.  You are here, and you can pull me back if you need to."  

Magnus swallowed and looked down at their hands.  "All right.  Very well."  

Alec turned to look at Dream and raised his eyebrows.  "Ready to get started?  We're going to try to do all of it in one go.  I don't want to try to do this a second time."  

"That will be far too much," Dream said with a frown.  

"It's what we've got to work with," Alec shrugged.  "And I'm just following my gut here.  Your brother sent me back here for a reason, and since I don't know what the precise reason is, I'm going to keep figuring out ways to help."  He met Dream's eyes.  "We need to do this.  Your Nightmare isn't going to wait forever, and the closer you are to full strength, the better."  

"Very well," Dream allowed.  

Hob crossed his arms over his chest.  "I'll pull Dream back if he gets stuck again, and keep an eye on everything else."  

"Good," Alec said, and then turned to Magnus.  "We're going to need to tie the wards to the ley lines, because we can't afford what we're about to do to leak out of your wards here if we can help it."  

Magnus huffed out a sigh and rubbed at his forehead.  "Ragnor is going to kill me for the amount of paperwork I am generating him, I hope that you know."  

Alec smiled.  "There will come a day when you miss his whining about paperwork," he promised, before moving to kneel between two of the side-by-side armchairs.  "Dream on one side, Magnus on the other."  He took a deep breath and allowed himself to settle.  "I need to separate myself out, and Magnus needs to take care of the ley lines.  Hob," he paused and looked at him before grimacing.  "I need you to make sure no one interrupts me.  You can pull either of them away, but don't touch me, got it?"  

"Got it," Hob said, glancing toward the window, but it still appeared to be shut and no one was ready to enter.  He reached out and took one of the knives off the table and tucked it into his belt.  

Alec stripped off his belt and folded it, putting it between his teeth as he took another deep breath and left his hands on either of the armchairs, and focused on splitting his power the way that he was going to need to.  

Chapter Text

Magnus was quick about getting the wards tied to the ley lines, and once it was finished, he could feel the washes of power radiating from the shadowhunter, who had done exactly what he promised.  He looked up at Dream of the Endless and found bottomless black eyes staring at him, with shining stars in their center.  He lifted his chin.  "I have promised to give it all back and I will keep my vow.  I will not forsake my promise to you."  

Dream inclined his head and moved into the chair that Alec had identified.  "Thank you."  He waited for Magnus to take a seat as well and for him to take the Shadowhunter's hand.  There was an immediate jolt of power through the room as the transfer began.  He reached out and wrapped his fingers carefully around Alec's hand and felt the hold on his fingers go tight as the connection, beginning to end, was forged, and power flooded into him. 

Magnus had been ready to yank his hand back, to separate the connection to make sure that the shadowhunter wasn't hurt by the immediate tidal wave of power that shot through him, but other than a sharp intake of breath through his nose and around the belt he'd slipped between his teeth, Alec remained somehow relaxed between them.  Magnus could feel the waves of power emptying out of him as it raced toward Dream, all of it cascading through the shadowhunter who looked almost nonplussed, except for the sweat breaking out on his brow.  His hold was tight, but not too much so, and it was clear that he was holding steady, despite his magical core of angelic strength screaming in pain.  

Magnus wanted to reach out, to see what was happening, but he had a feeling he knew precisely what was going on.  Instead of his soul being torn apart, it was going to be filled with his magic, and Alec was going to welcome it willingly.  It would be him, his magic, at the core of Alec's soul and he could feel the happiness radiating out of the shadowhunter at the thought.  There was no fear there.  

They easily passed the threshold of their first transfer, and Magnus nearly sagged in relief as more and more power was pulled out of him by both Dream and Alexander.  It felt easy to give it up, to let it return to its rightful owner, far away from him.  He wanted nothing to do with the siren call of being an Endless, and this had only ever been meant to be temporary and now was his chance to prove it.  

"Room's getting heavy, guys," Hob warned, sinking down on the couch across from them, breathing slowly.  He could almost see the weight of the magic that was shimmering in the air, flowing from Magnus, through Alec, and then into Dream.  He met Alec's eyes when they opened, and saw the hazy pain there, leaning forward so their eyes could meet.  "Keep your eyes on me, kid.  Stay grounded and right here with us, you're going to be okay."  

Alec gave a small nod and focused on Hob Gadling, forcing himself to breathe through his nose again and again as Magnus let more and more of the leash on his power go until it was flooding into him like a sea pouring through a single pipe.  Dream, on the other hand, didn't try to pull the power out of him and he was grateful for it, if he had, this would have been near impossible to bear.  So instead, he kept breathing, kept trying to focus himself through all of it, until he was once again centered and working as a conduit for them.  

"Remarkable," Dream whispered, his eyes halfway shut as he felt the power continue to flood into him.  Alec Lightwood-Bane was allowing the power to flood through him, unrestricted, even as it ripped and tore at his magic along the way.  There were occasional grunts and tensing of muscles as he was pained, but overwhelmingly, he was able to keep going without ceasing.  Dream lifted his eyes to Hob Gadling and saw him struggling under the weight of the power around them, but he was keeping his eyes on Alec, determined to help the Nephilim.  

Dream tipped his head back and let himself reach into the depths of power that was being poured into him.  When had he last had this much power at his disposal?  When had he felt this much himself, not some stamped-down and watered-down version of his usual abilities?  They were Endless, meant to serve humanity and their purpose, but they were endless, and for the first time in millennia, Dream felt every inch of his power, every inch of his magic as it flooded into him through the handhold of someone his brother had sent from the future to help.  

Alec bit down a cry through the belt as one more large wave forced the connection between him and Magnus wider, so more power was cascading into him.  It was getting hard to control the trembling now, he could feel the power ripping and shredding part of him, but this was what they'd wanted, this was what they'd planned.  He clenched his eyes shut, leaning forward a fraction, keeping his hold on Magnus and Dream.  He panted hard, holding onto them, focusing on letting the power flow through and through and through without stopping.  

At last, Magnus could feel the end of the power that he'd taken on from Dream, all of it pouring out of him in one final, epic wave that left him gasping and crying out.  It was nothing on the scream that shot through Alec as he struggled with the wave.  Once it was out of him, he felt Alec let go of his hand and he felt adrift, but he watched Alec move and slam his free hand on top of Dream's, still screaming through the belt between his teeth.  

Then, finally, with a pop of his ears that had him nearly tumbling back under the lack of weight, it was done.  Magnus sucked in a frantic breath, staring at the ceiling, shuddering a little as his body tried to acclimate to what they had just done to it.  

"Alec!" Hob shouted, vaulting over the coffee table to catch the kid as he started to sway and fall over.  There was a blue haze lingering around his body, and the belt had fallen out of his mouth, and he was trembling, whining low under his breath.  He looked over at Dream, but his friend (more, now?  They needed to talk about that...), was staring straight ahead, into the middle distance, looking at something he couldn't see, so he kept his attention on Alec.  "Alec, can you hear me?"  

"He's okay," Magnus said, his voice hoarse.  "Have to, have to wait for the magic to fill all the pieces of his Nephilim magic he just tore out of himself doing that," he added, swallowing hard.  He turned his attention to Dream and struggled to push himself upright, feeling scraped raw, but more settled in his skin than he'd been in days.  It was a relief, to no longer have the Endless power itching under his skin, eager to rip him apart, or to rip others apart.  It had been an uncomfortable realization, how much he'd enjoyed that level of power and holding onto it.  He never wanted it anywhere near him again, not like this.  

Dream didn't know how long the others talked in the background beside him.  He was awash and drowning in his own power.  Had there always been so much of it, all of it at his disposal?  He felt as though he were a fountain, ready to overflow at any moment, his form completely at the mercy of everything bubbling up inside him.  But as quickly as it had come, it was sinking into the Dreaming, healing her wounds, flooding her with power that had been missing, righting and fixing that which had been broken.  Before, it had been an effort to use his energy in this way, but now?  Now it felt like nothing and he tipped his head back, savoring the feel of it all.  

"I'm here," Alec managed, panting hard, reaching out to press at his chest.  "Not the easiest thing I've ever done, that's for sure," he agreed.  He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, before lifting his eyes to Dream.  "Now we just need to get Dream his Helm back.  Magnus?  Let's get that ritual ready."  

Magnus bit down on his lip and nodded.  "Very well.  I still don't think this is a good idea."  

"Well," Alec said, levering himself upright to limp toward Magnus' apothecary.  "If it doesn't work out, then we give him the archangel feather and call it a day."  He held onto the doorframe.  "Come on, I don't know where the hell your, your anaconda skin is, or your dead sea seaweed, and we're going to need both."  

Hob blinked and watched the two of them head into the other room and turned his full attention to Dream, who was blinking back at him, his eyes still void-black and containing galaxies.  He offered Dream a smile.  "How are you feeling?"  

Dream opened his mouth to respond, but the words would have reverberated with the noise of a thousand suns.  He tempered it and breathed, thinking through the words he wished to convey.  "Powerful," he managed, at last, at a volume acceptable for where they were.  "I have not felt like this in eons.  I do not remember the last time.  I have already set almost the entire Dreaming to rights."  

Hob grinned at the awe in Dream's voice and sat down on the arm of his chair beside him.  "I'm sure that Lucienne will be very happy with that.  Jessamy too."  

"Yes," Dream agreed, his eyes far away.  "And I will need to return, soon, to finish collecting and putting to rights the Dreams and Nightmares who ran away to be something else." 

Hob nodded.  "You'll stay safe, right?"  He grinned and gave Dream a nudge with his shoulder.  "Not that I won't come to rescue you again in a heartbeat.  But make sure you stay safe, yeah?"  

Dream reached out to take Hob Gadling's hand, tangling their fingers together, looking down at his land, the much more tanned one in his own.  "I shall endeavor to remain as safe as I can."  He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Hob Gadling's fingers and looked up at him.  "You are well, after resting?  I know the ruby put you through a great deal of pain."  

"I'm good, love," Hob said, reaching out to comb his fingers through Dream's hair with a smile, twisting one errant strand around his fingertips.  "I promise you that."  He leaned in and kissed Dream's cheek and smiled against him.  "I'm glad we got you out and we've got you almost entirely set to rights.  I know you'll probably have to spend a good deal of time chasing down what you need to, but may I come to visit you in the Dreaming?"  

Dream looked up at Hob and stared at the earnestness in his eyes, the hope that he would be allowed this small courtesy.  He reached up with his other hand and tugged the man down and into a kiss, breathing out softly against the warmth of his mouth.  It felt heavier here, less the brush of a dream, and far more the heat of the Waking world was present in every brush of their skin together.  

"Yes," Dream answered, as he pulled away from the kiss, staring up at Hob.  "After we have regained my Helm and stopped The Corinthian."  

"Sounds like a plan," Hob whispered, leaning in for another kiss.  "I look forward to it."  He squeezed Dream's hand again.  There were a lot of things that he was looking forward to if he was honest, the least of which was getting to spend a great deal of time kissing a certain King.  "You're going to have to help me figure out what to do about Alec's weapons."  

Dream hummed in consideration, his eyes drifting over to them.  "Once this is over, we will bring them to the Dreaming.  The material is one known to me, we can have it reforged for you since you cannot use the runic magic."  He trailed his fingers along Hob's shoulders and hummed again.  "I might have an idea for how they can be used."  

Hob grinned.  "I look forward to your ideas, love."  He looked up as Magnus and Alec marched out of the other room, their arms full of several ingredients.  When Magnus stopped and raised both of his eyebrows at their joined hands, Hob shrugged and gave him a sunny grin.  

Magnus shook his head and led the way into his spare room.  "Come, we need to set up your ritual, and we'll need Hob for this, to help keep the demon grounded in this plane.  We can't use Alec, since he's from the future, and we can't use Dream, or we'll end up summoning something we definitely do not want."  

Hob laughed.  "One more experience to add to the list, it sounds like," he agreed, standing up and heading after them into the spare room.  "Want to tell me what you need me to do?"

"You shouldn't need to do anything other than stand there and look pretty," Magnus said.  "Alec is going to be the offering-" he winced and took a deep breath.  "Sorry Alexander."  

Alec shrugged.  "It's true enough, not worried about it."  

"And Dream is going to stay out of sight," Magnus continued.  

Dream frowned and followed them into the room.  "Why might that be?"  

"Because," Magnus said, pointing at him.  "If we are lucky enough that he has not heard of your release yet, I can play this as I am trying to acquire a rare artifact and I am sacrificing the angelic blood of a Nephilim I captured and no one thinks anything untoward."  

Hob frowned at him.  "That's the angle you want to take?"  

Magnus sighed and looked down at the book in front of him and then Alec.  "It's the angle that a Duke of Hell would expect the son of a Prince of Hell to take, so it makes the most sense."  

"That's..." Hob winced.  "Unpleasant in every possible implication."  

Alec shrugged.  "Not the first time we've needed to try and do something like that.  Sometimes you gotta go with the impressions.  Besides, my blood will be valuable so he won't ask questions."  

"And if he has heard of my release?"  Dream asked.  "What then?"  

Magnus took a deep breath and glanced at Alec.  "Then I order him to accept the trade."  

Alec let out a whistle.  "That's got a lot of worrisome implications, Magnus.  If he's listening-"

"He shouldn't be," Magnus grumbled.  "I don't see why he would be.  And even if he is, as long as your ritual is complete, we can send Choronzon packing without a worry, Helm in hand."  

"And if Lucifer is listening?" Alec pushed.  "You end up with Lucifer in your spare room, in a circle that cannot hold them."  

Magnus bit down on his lip and nodded.  "I'm aware.  In the event that happens, then Dream comes out of the woodwork, hopefully, and points out that the Helm is his and it was stolen from him and he should get it back."  

Alec crossed his arms over his chest and tapped on his wrist.  "I don't like that.  We need a better plan for if he knows."  

"What about..." Hob hesitated when they all turned to look at him at once, and he held up his hands.  "What about a boon?"  He glanced over at Dream.  "What if you gave him something to sweeten the deal?  Then he would get to say he got one over on you, but we're really winning."  

Dream tilted his head and studied Hob Gadling.  "What would you suggest?"  

Hob shrugged.  "No Nightmares for the rest of his existence?  That's a pretty big thing to hold over everyone else in Hell.  Or maybe five hundred years without?  Or something like that?"  He gave Dream a rueful smile.  "You'd know your ability to grant a boon much better than me, that just seems like a better plan."  

"I could do that," Dream agreed, looking to Magnus.  "So in the event that he knows I am free, and even that you helped to free me, I can offer him something in exchange.  Since it will not be a challenge, it will not fall subject to Hell's rules."  

"And if he refuses the deal?" Magnus asked, narrowing his eyes.  "What then?"  

Hob shrugged.  "Well, he's a demon, right?  Could we just.  You know."  He made a stabbing gesture.  "We've got all those fancy Nephilim blades over there."  He tapped a finger on his jaw.  "And hell, if Alec was the one to do it, they can't even blame Dream for it, can they?" 

Magnus looked over at the blades and considered for a long moment, before turning to Alec, with his eyebrows raised.  

Alec started to grin, hurrying out of the room to come back with one of his daggers, tucking it away at the small of his back.  "I’ll have to magic it away from me if everything goes by the original plan, but, you try to sacrifice me and my blood-"

"You stab him," Magnus finished.  "Dream isn't involved, he's dead and can't go tattling to anyone, and we all go on our merry way."  

Hob nodded and grinned.  "That sounds like a plan I can get behind.  And if it goes up in flames, grab the Helm, stab him anyways, and call it a day."  He held up the small dagger.  "Hell if you can get him facing you, I can throw it to kill him and he'd never know who did."  

"That is a far better plan," Dream agreed, looking between them.  "But we need to hurry, we have not been subtle in the past few days."  

"That's true," Magnus said, rubbing his hands together.  Now that he wasn't bursting with Endless power ready to seep out of him at every instant, his magic felt lighter than it had in decades, jumping eagerly to his fingers.  "Alexander, if I may for show..." with a twirl of his fingers, Alec's hands were magically cuffed in front of him.  

"You and locking people up," Alec said with a huff, shaking his head as he stepped into the middle of the circle.  

Magnus snorted and shook his head, gesturing to the other end of the circle.  "Hob, stand there.  Dream, step outside the door.  We can leave the door open so you can enter if necessary, but stay back unless it IS necessary."  He didn't wait to see what Dream said to that and turned his focus to the shadowhunter in front of him, putting him into the offering circle, a shudder running up his spine.  

"We're going to be okay," Alec said, looking at him.  "We've done things like this a hundred times over.  It never gets easy, but we always find a way back to each other.  Don't worry about me, no matter where I end up, I can get home.  You can bring me home.  Worry about you and them.  Understood?"  

Magnus swallowed and nodded.  "Yes."  

Alec smiled at him and took a deep breath.  "All right, let's get this over with."  He looked at Hob and then at the open door and affected a furious stone cold look on his face, glaring at Magnus, his shoulders tense and clearly straining agianst the fake cuffs.  

Chapter Text

Reaching out, fire dripped from his fingertips and lit the edge of the circle and Magnus began to chant, quietly at first, growing in volume as the chant went on.  If he'd been worried about using Hob Gadling as his anchor, it disappeared in seconds, the man seemed so rooted in the present that he was heavier than any other anchor he'd ever used for a spell like this.  Strange, considering the amount of Endless power floating in and around him.  

At the apex of the spell, Magnus twisted and reached out to the specific Duke of Hell that he wanted.  "Choronzon," he said, the name twisting across his lips.  "You are summoned by the heir to a Prince of Hell, who has a trade he wishes to make.  For you have something of value he wishes to acquire.  He will pay handsomely."  With a yank of his magic, Magnus completed the summons and watched fire erupt in the summoning circle, black and bright, a figure stumbling into it before standing tall.  

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Asmodeus' son.  Here I thought you'd forsaken us and turned native with those precious humans of yours," Choronzon sneered, rolling his eyes.  "What is it you want, child?"  

Magnus stared him down and tightened the wards on the edges of the spell before raising an imperious eyebrow.  "You have something I want, and I have something very valuable to give you in trade for it."  

Choronzon lifted both his eyebrows and reached into the air, pulling out the Helm.  "I'm guessing you mean this, hm?  Not every day one finds one of the tools of office of an Endless in the hands of a mortal.  She traded it away for nothing, I almost felt guilty about it."  He shrugged.  "If you want to acquire it, it will cost you."  

"It's of no value to you, save bragging rights," Magnus said with a scoff.  "Though I don't know what brag taking it from a human is, precisely."  He narrowed his eyes.  "However, I understand..." he took a step forward, to the very edge of the circle.  "The value of such an item.  So I shall pay you in a currency you cannot deny, and one that would give you true bragging rights over others in hell."  

"Hell of a claim, little prince," Choronzon scoffed.  "What is it you think that you have that you can offer me?"  

Magnus' eyes lazily slid over to Alec and gestured to him.  "I am going to offer you his Nephilim blood and power, separated from him, and yours to claim."  He grinned, this time with all teeth.  "I think you can appreciate the risk I take in finding not only a Nephilim, but one from the oldest, the original bloodlines.  His power will be the sweetest taste you've had in eons."  

"It sounds to me," Choronzon said, pausing as he stared at the Nephilim.  "You really want this Helm.  Tell me why."  

Magnus snarled, low and in his throat.  "You presume to demand information from me?"  

"I presume," Choronzon shot back.  "To know that I have made a good deal, princeling.  So tell me, what it is that you want with this Helm?  And why should I take you up on your offer?"  

Magnus tugged on the binding magic, glad when Hob pulled back from it so he didn't get yanked inward, pulling Choronzon closer to him, reaching out to stroke a nail down his cheek.  "You know that I could have you put to death on a whim, Choronzon?  The Morningstar wouldn't care about one such as you.  You've been more concerned with bragging about your latest trade than using it to the advantage of their goals." With a flick of a fingertip, Magnus drew blood against his cheek.  "You ask me what I'd do, when I am willing to spill Nephilim blood to pay you appropriately?  You are lucky I do not murder you here and now where you stand."  

Magnus let Choronzon quake for a few seconds longer before he released the hold of the magic and let him step back.  He watched, and waited as the demon clearly thought about the offer in front of him.  "I'm not going to keep the Nephilim trapped there for hours, Choronzon.  Unless you want to get into a fight with a Nephilim that you might not return from, make a decision."  

"The Nephilim's power would be mine and mine alone?" Choronzon clarified.  "You'd leave him mundane?"  

Magnus scoffed.  "I've had my fair share of friends murdered by shadowhunters.  I have no love for any of them.  Now.  Do we have a deal?"  

Choronzon hesitated for only an instant longer before nodding.  "We do.  His blood and magic for the Helm."  

Magnus gestured to the open circle beside him.  "Place it into the exchange circle," he said, taking on an air of boredom.  "I want this over and done with quickly."  

Alec waited for the Helm to be in the spot on the summoning circle and felt the rest of the tension leave Magnus and Hob behind him.  The deal was binding now, and they just had to do the rest of it.  He glanced at Hob and then at Choronzon's back.  They would make sure that he didn't walk out of there with the power that he was trying to take.  He bared his teeth at Magnus and pretended to strain against the magic.  

"The Clave will have you hanged as an example for this!" he growled.  "Then what will you have?"  

Magnus laughed in the shadowhunter's face and snapped the bowl with ingredients into his fingertips.  "The Clave has been trying to murder me for centuries now, and they've yet to be successful.  I can't see them starting now." 

Alec caught the signal from Magnus as he pulled the ritual bowl forward and lit it with magic.  He took a step back, scared and staring at it.  "What, what's that?"  

Magnus lifted his eyes to Alec, offering as much apology as he could in the look before he flooded his power into the ritual spell that Alec had built before he sent the magic diving down the bond it could feel.  The only thing he could do to try to ease the burden was make it quick, and like he'd told Alec, making it quick meant making it painful.  Which he could do, but it would be agonizing.  

Alec felt the ritual hit him and screamed, falling to his knees, trying to contain it, but he couldn't.  His runes were being peeled from his skin, one by one, all of them pouring off of him, black ink slowly pouring into the bowl in front of him, until they began to bleed, and his blood followed.  

Hob shuddered in horror and kept his eyes open, bearing witness to the ritual that Alec was willingly putting himself through.  His fingers itched to grab the dagger and run through the demon, but he had to wait, had to wait until the ritual for Alec was done.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dream, who was standing just out of sight of the door, and met his eyes, wiping away a tear.  Another scream, this one hoarser than the others, echoed out of Alec, and there was a loud groan that followed.  

"That's right," Magnus snarled, playing the part that Choronzon would expect.  "I hope that you feel a fraction of the pain you have inflicted on other downworlders."  With a yank of his magic, Alec's whole body jolted as Magnus pulled the last of his Nephilim magic out of him, leaving him in a heap on the floor, trembling and groaning in pain.  He brought the bowl to his fingers and turned his attention to Choronzon, holding out the bowl for the demon's eager fingers.  

"Your pay-"  Magnus stumbled, ducking, as power, wild and nearly out of control hit the summoning circle.  There was a shout from Hob across from him, and the circle barely managed to stay steady.  He turned to look at Alexander seconds before agonized bright blue eyes looked at him and wings, huge, black, beautiful wings burst from Alec's back and knocked Choronzon and the bowl with Alec's blood and magic into the summoning circle.  

Hob swore as he watched Magnus, Choronzon, and Alec all freeze as the blood and magic began to pour over the summoning, all of it twisting and folding in on itself.  He could see the second Choronzon made the decision to try to escape and stepped into the circle, ignoring the shout of his name from Dream, sinking Alec's knife into the neck of Choronzon.

Thankfully, the demon disintegrated with a shocked cry and Hob stumbled as there was suddenly no body in front of him.  He stumbled, but managed to catch his balance, looking up at Magnus, Alec, and Dream.  The circle was on fire and it was working towards him, and Alec's blood and magic were spilled in front of him.  "Get the Helm!" he snapped to Dream, staring at Magnus.  "Tell me what to do."  

Magnus' mouth was dry as he stared at Hob who was now getting wrapped up and twisted in the spell, and it was pulling at him, now reaching for him as Choronzon's part of the deal, but also Alec's power looking for a tether.  "I don't, fuck, I don't..." he shook his head, and glanced over at Alec who was groaning, his wings twitching behind him.  

Hob sagged in relief as he watched Dream pick up the Helm and take it away from the circle, but the fire was getting hotter, and he knew that he was locked in the chalk circle, just like the demon had been.  He pressed his hand to his chest and took a deep breath.  He needed to find out where he was going to go.  He stared at Magnus.  "Where?"  

"Hell," Magnus said, his voice grim.  "I don't know what Alexander's magic is going to do to it though, it could change everything."  He shook his head.  "The circle is collapsing, you're going to fall to Hell."  

Hob tried not to shake at that quiet proclamation, but he nodded and tightened his hand on the knife.  "Can you summon me back?"  

Magnus swallowed.  "Maybe.  If you don't get captured in the meantime."  

"Okay," Hob said, trying not to shake as he turned to look at Dream who was staring at him, the echo of fear in his eyes.  "Dream?  Can you get me out?"  

"Hold on," Alec said, scrambling as he stared at the circle.  "Hold on, hold on," he breathed, power springing to his fingertips even as it sparked and faded and he cursed.  "Come on!" he snarled.  "Come on, this is what it's for, come on."  

Hob glanced over at Alec, whose wings were still shaking behind him.  "What the hell are you doing?  You're of no use to anyone while-"

"You don't understand," Alec snapped, his eyes going wild, still bright blue and shining.  "I know now, he told me, fuck, I'm so glad he told me, now come on, come on."  

"Alexander-"

"Quiet," Alec snarled, pressing his hands to the edge of the chalk circle.  "Hob, get as close as you can to me, and when I tell you, walk or run forward and don't stop going, no matter what you do, and no matter what you see until Dream tells you to stop.  You cannot look back.  You cannot, not at any point or you’ll be trapped.  Understand?"  

Hob shuddered under the weight of the flames getting hotter by the second, and the laughter of the demons he could hear starting to echo in the circle.  "What-"

"Do you understand?!" Alec shouted, magic growing around his palms.  

"Yes!" Hob gasped, the smoke starting to make it impossible to see.  

Alec stood up, bloody chalk on his palms, and stared at Hob, closing his eyes as his wings quivered, spreading wide behind him.  "Blessings be, the angel's child, unknown to those who might guide his path, lead him back to his heart."  Alec’s voice echoed, loud with power.  “Lead him on a path once walked in sorrow, keep him safe, keep him guided, and return him to his heart.”  He reached through the edges of the circle with a muffled scream of pain and shoved his hands onto Hob's shirt pressing chalk handprints smeared with blood to his shirt.  

"Go!" Alec snarled, watching as Hob disappeared an instant later.  He collapsed to the ground as the circle finally fell in on itself and Hob Gadling was gone.  He curled his hands tighter to his chest, where they were burning, and looked to Dream of the Endless.  "The gates.  The gates of Hell.  He's going to make it to you.  I gave him..." he sucked in a hard breath. "He, he should be hidden.  He's going to have to make it to you.  You have to be waiting for him."  

Dream's eyes widened.  "How?"  

"My blood and power," Alec said, tears in his eyes as his magic at last started to heal the burns on his hands.  "I, I used it for a blessing, to hide him.  He should be hidden.  If he keeps walking, if he follows the tug to you, he'll make it out."   There was a stronger, deeper tug on his magic.  Magnus, his Magnus, feeling whatever had happened, trying to bring him back.  Alec swallowed hard and looked up at the other Magnus and fumbled for the sapphire, pushing it at him.

"Memories," Alec panted, his eyes hazy with pain.  "You have to, have to put them in there," he ordered.  "All of them about me.  Dream, fuck, Dream can help them to make sense.  But you have to give all of me away."  

"How, how long..." Magnus picked up the stone, tears springing to his eyes.  "Alexander, how long until I..."  

Alec smiled sadly at him.  "I can't tell you and you know it.  But know that I'm going to love you from the very first moment I see you and I am never going to stop loving you.  Never, Magnus.  Now hurry."  He waited with a grunt, still curled around his injured hands, breathing in deeply.

Magnus clenched his eyes shut and activated the spell to erase his memories. This never got easier, no matter how many times he did it (or tried), but Alec’s quietly panting whispers to hurry were extra motivating. He managed, at last, to have the memories hovering over the gem and floated it to Alec and over his palm. 

“The second they’re in there, I’m going to collapse,” Magnus said. “Dream, before you go to Hell, you’re going to have to alter my memories to make them make sense with all that’s happened here.” He clenched his eyes shut. “I hope I see you soon, Alexander.” With that, he sliced his memories out and let them fall into the sapphire. 

Alec grabbed the gem and held onto it tight and reached out to the tether Magnus, his Magnus was holding for him, and looked at Dream. “Hob is going to make it to you. Believe in him. He loves you. He’s going to make it.” With one last nod, Alec reached out to the hand that was being offered and felt himself get pulled.  A pop of displacement later, he’d fallen on the pile of cushions in the circle Magnus had used and his wings were flexing and aching. He heard Magnus’ gasp and pushed himself upright slowly, laughing low. “So. The Endless cashed in on that favor,” he started, lifting his head to look at his husband and grinned. “And it was a fucking doozy.” 

Chapter Text

If Dream was grateful for one thing about Alec Lightwood-Bane’s disappearance, it meant one less human to be concerned The Corinthian would chase. However, that meant his attention was now split. But with Magnus no longer holding any of his power, he should also be free of being chased. After altering Magnus’ memories further, Dream used a flash of magic to summon Ragnor Fell, who thankfully appeared quickly, and took to his order to leave and hide Magnus to heart, disappearing seconds later through a shimmering golden portal.

Two things remained.  The Corinthian, and rescuing Hob.  Dream could feel his Nightmare drawing closer by the second, now, eager for the power that he was continuing to bleed off in the Waking world.  But now, he had something more important to track down. Something that was, quite impossibly, supposed to be making his way through Hell without being caught or captured as long as he did not look back.  Dream buried the thought of Orpheus, of his son, and his inability to do so at the back of his mind.  If he thought of it, he would not do what needed to be done, and he could not doubt that now. Though he did not know the spell that Alec had forced on Hob, the idea that it had been enough to fully hide him from Lucifer and the wrath of hell was laughable. 

He would need or be very cautious, to ensure the Lightbringer was not alerted to something being wrong in their realm. It would have been too easy, now. Dream paused for several long seconds and looked around the room, the blood and ruined summoning on the floor, as well as the mess made of the place.  He would need to visit a much larger boon on Magnus Bane than he had asked for, at another time.  Not yet.  

Dream turned and went to go face The Corinthian.  Before he could go to rescue Hob, before he could be waiting at the gates of Hell, he had to make sure his Nightmare was where he was supposed to be, or unmade.  

One option was far more likely than the other.

-

Hob landed... somewhere.  

Hell, if Magnus was to be believed, and he was not alone.  A shiver ran up his spine as he took in the dozens of other demons around him, all of them ignoring him in favor of conversations already going on.  Hob remembered Alec's shouted warning to not look back, that he would be hidden, and started to jog, making his way forward.  Run, and don't look back.  He spared a moment to chuckle, because apparently, that was a requirement for getting out of Hell, for some reason.

It was not unlike the story of Orpheus, escaping Hell, trusting that his beloved was behind him the entire way.  'Don't stop until Dream tells you to!'  Except for this time, his beloved was not behind him, but ahead of him, and Hob could not stop until he was there.  He increased his pace, ducking past and around demons who didn't seem to be able to focus on him.  A few times, more than once, he was looked directly at, only for their eyes to slide away, almost like they couldn't look at him.  

Hob didn't stop to wonder exactly what it was, but the handprints on his shirt gave him an idea of precisely why they were reacting the way they were.  He kept the Nephilim dagger in his hand, just in case, knowing that it would take out any demon that he ran by, but in the meantime, he had to keep moving.  The pits (and he could tell that's what they were by all of the never-ending screams) were getting louder the longer he ran forward.  

Hob didn't know if he was running in the right direction, or if this was even what Alec had meant by the direction.  He hadn't picked a way to go, just landed and started moving.  Hob pressed a hand to his chest and took a deep breath.  He couldn't lose faith now, he had a long journey ahead of him and it was going to take him time to get there.  Thank goodness he couldn't die, because who knew how long he was going to be without food or water.  

Hob made his way through the prison and the torturing, more than once slipping on the blood of the victims, dodging around whips and chains, moving forward, never looking behind him at what he was moving past.  Some of it was horrific enough to bring tears to his eyes, and though Hob's heart broke for them, he couldn't help them, he couldn't free them from here.  He had to free himself.  Dream was going to come to get him, he had to trust that and keep walking and running to get out of Hell.  

The pits eventually gave way to a barren wasteland.  In the distance, he could see prison towers rising from the dead ground, and the screaming hands reaching from them.  They were pained, and their shouts agonizing as they echoed across the field.  More than once, Hob stumbled as they called out to him, shouting his name, but he didn't turn to look at them, he didn't stray off his path, just kept moving forward.  He would make it out of here, he would make it to Dream if it was the last thing that he did.  

Hob grit his teeth as some of the voices started to sound familiar, as the voices turned and became ghosts of his past, shouting at him to free them, to let them off the ships that they were trapped on.  He clenched his hands into fists and let the tears fall freely, but he kept walking, kept running when he could, trying to get past them.  He would be punished for those crimes if and when he ever sought death, but not a moment before, and he would continue to do whatever he could for reparations.  

Walking.  

Running.

Jogging.

He was so thirsty he forgot what the taste of water was.  He'd at last left behind the towers with the screaming damned, but now?  Now he walked through barren wastelands that were leading to a forest with white ground and the wind had whipped up around him.  No one else had noticed him, and no one else had seen him, so he kept obeying the order, and kept walking forward.  Keep moving, keep moving, and don't look back.  

The urge to look back wasn't one of fear, but an urge to see how far he'd come - if he'd really made it out of the pits. away from the prisons, and into where he was now.  But it was one he could not afford.  He had to make it to Dream, and Dream had to tell him that it was okay to stop.  That was the only way that he could afford to stop.  

The forest wasn't far now and Hob started to pick up his pace, eager to be through it as quickly as possible.  The closer he got, the more he heard the quiet wailing, the moaning of the trees above him, where souls were grafted to them.  Hob said a quick prayer for them in his mind and kept walking, kept running.  He could see demons walking through the trees too.  Huge, hulking things, dragging clubs almost as big as he was.  Hob didn't try to avoid them, just kept moving forward and hoped that Alec's spell, whatever it was, would continue to keep their eyes from turning on him.  

-

Dream found The Corinthian sitting amidst a pile of corpses, popping an eye into one of his mouths in satisfaction and narrowed his eyes at the sight.  One of the humans nearby was groaning through the pain, still alive, still tortured by the removal of their eyes.  When Dream stepped out of the shadows, he was unsurprised to see his creation jump to attention, his eyes wide and eager.  

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lord and master, finally come to collect the errant children?" Corinthian asked, bouncing eagerly on his toes.  "How are you, Dream?"  

Dream stepped forward and tilted his head, sand whirling around his shoes.  "You would dare to ask me that?  You, who helped forge the cage that I was thrown into so I could not escape?"  

Corinthian laughed, his head falling back.  "I was only doing what you created me to do - inspiring humanity to be their worst, to do their worst!"  He stalked in front of his master eagerly.  "It's not my fault the humans I inspired decided to, well.  Take advantage of my suggestions." 

Dream felt fury curl in him as the Corinthian continued to laugh.  "You know I will unmake you for this."  

"So you will," Corinthian agreed, spreading his palms wide.  "I certainly can't hope to stop you, so why should I bother?  I've had my fun, tasted-" he licked his lips, smirking wide.  "-what humanity has to offer and it is delicious.  I understand why we crave it so."  

"I created you to serve humanity, not to inspire this sort of suffering and death," Dream snarled, sand swirling around his hand as he held it out.  

Corinthian laughed again and stepped closer as the sand slowly started to rip him apart.  "And what does it say about you, that it was you that created me?  That I am a part of you, that you, the great and terrible Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, the entire collective unconscious, am who I am?"  

With a snarl, Dream unmade the last of him, until the Corinthian's skull was lying in a pile of sand, his last words echoing between them, his shoulders trembling with rage.  He picked up the skull and wrapped it carefully in his fingertips before tucking it away.  The truth of his words was loud, almost deafening as he stood amongst the suffering bodies around him.  

More than anything, Dream was glad that Hob was not there to witness, to hear the lengths of his depravity and his lowest points.  The Corinthian would have laid them bare, again and again, for that was what he did, that was what he was for.  But Hob, Hob would say that he had needed to learn to listen, to temper himself.  Would he have suggested the same for the Corinthian?  Would he have counseled waiting, listening, as he had done with Gault?  

With another violent swirl of sand, Dream let those who were dying fall into dreams to ease their way into his sister's hands and performed the small mercy of notifying those who needed to know in the Waking world about such a tragedy or attack.  Those alive would get the help they needed, and he could leave, so he did.  But this time, Dream hesitated before ordering his sand to take him where he needed.  Careful.  He must be careful.

He had to go to the gates of Hell.  To wait there for Hob, who would, who was, hopefully, making his way toward him.  Dream closed his eyes and ached when he thought of Hob Gadling, trapped in hell, stumbling through who knew what, maybe in waste-deep acid, or some other horrific torture, trying to walk out.  Dream clenched his hands shut and thought of the soft press of his lips, the smile that he'd worn as they held each other in the Dreaming and let his sand tug him to his destination.  

-

Hob stared at the gate ahead of him and frowned at it.  He couldn't keep moving forward, but the gate was going to stop him if he kept trying to.  Not to mention, the guard, whoever the hell he was, kept pacing across in front of him, back and forth, muttering to himself.  He hadn't seen Dream yet, but he also could feel the pressing urge to hurry, to keep moving, to push forward that was scratching at his back, getting louder and louder by the second.  

The trees were loud too, almost deafening, and the rhyme the guard was singing was ringing around his skull, and he was starting to feel faint claws scraping at his back.  Hob grit his teeth and took a step forward, just one, away from the claws, studying the gates.  From what he could see, the gatekeeper did have keys, but unless he could grab the keys and then also unlock the door without being noticed, there was no way he was getting through the door.  

Unless.  

Hob looked at the weapon in his hand, and then at the dripping black chains holding the door shut.  Adamas, weapons of the angels, right?  So maybe it would cut through the chains in hell since it was lethal against demons?  And if he kept trying to go forward, the spell wouldn't break.  He flipped the dagger in his palm once and then nodded, before moving forward.  

As a test, he sliced at one of the trees, and the ropes hanging from it.  It split with a violent hiss, but that drew the attention of the guard.  Hob moved faster.  The guard might not be able to see him yet, but he wasn't going to risk being found.  Lifting his arm up, Hob brought the knife down against the chain of the lock at the gates with as much force as he could, slamming himself into the gates.  The chain hissed and started to dissolve, so Hob hit it again.  

There was a shout, a bellowing echo, and thunderous footsteps behind him.  At the last second, Hob remembered not to look behind him and struck the chains again, putting all of his weight against the gates.  "Come on!"  He shouted.  "Come on!"  He struck the chains again, and the ground was shaking beneath him, and there was the scrape of a weapon, hot breath on his neck-

The final hit was enough to shatter the chain and Hob fell through and felt the whistle of a massive club over his head.  He scrambled on the ground, holding onto the dagger, sprinting away from the gate.  There was a shout, another bellow, and stampeding feet behind him.  They were coming for him, he'd broken out, and now they were coming for him.  

Pumping his arms hard, Hob ran, as fast as he could.  Ahead of him, there was a line of souls, and they formed a path, if nothing else, and he ran it.  He didn't let himself stop, even as his lungs felt like they would collapse under the pressure of his breathing.  The anger, the fury, the sounds from behind him had not stopped, and he had to be outrunning them by mere seconds.  He could not stop, he could not look back, he had to make it to Dream.  

At what had to be the start of the path, where the souls were appearing out of the mist, Hob saw no one, but there was still thundering behind him.  Hob wanted to scream Dream's name, but he didn't want to risk giving away the fact that he was here.  Which meant that all he had was Alec's advice, to keep moving forward, to keep trying to get away, to keep running.

Leaping over another branch that was in his way, Hob heard it be torn to pieces behind him and clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment before he kept running, pumping his arms hard as he moved forward.  He had to make it to Dream.  He pressed his fingertips to his heart and thought of Dream, and the Dreaming, the soft kisses that they'd shared, cuddling together in Dream's bedroom, all of it.  Dream was going to be waiting for him, Dream wouldn't leave him here.  He wouldn't.  Hob would make it to him.  

The first rush of sand along his feet nearly tripped him, but Hob looked down at it and gasped, running faster, even as there was a scream of rage behind him.  He stumbled, nearly falling, trying to get his feet under him as the sand pulled at him harder and harder.  "I'm trying, I'm trying," he panted, his throat aching for water, his head swimming.  There were wings beating behind him now, and there were creatures calling his name, demanding that he stop, promising him mercy, promising to be kind, to protect him, and still Hob ran.  

"I'm coming," he promised.  "I'm coming, just be there," Hob managed, moving through the shadows and mist that seemed to get thicker and thicker by the second.  The creatures behind him, whatever they were, were at last getting further and further away, by the blackness in front of his eyes was getting darker and darker as he tried to breathe.  Every single inhale was heavy, the air almost like water as he continued to stumble forward.  He sucked in a breath, but there wasn't enough air, there wasn't enough and he stumbled, falling to his knees for a second.  

Alec's warning to not stop, and to not look back echoed in his mind, so Hob started to crawl, trying to save his strength to get up and run again.  "Dream," he whispered the word, barely able to be heard over his own panting when the other creatures were long gone, swallowed up by the mists behind him.  Dream had to be waiting on the other end of this, Alec had told him, and Dream wouldn't let him die.  

"Dream," he breathed, repeating the name over and over again, a mantra that burned in his heart, that he had to find the answering call to.  Dream was going to be there, he knew it, he just had to get to the other side.  

-

Dream found the gates to Hell in abject chaos, and barely managed to hide in time to not be noticed.  Squatterbloat and a dozen other demons, winged, horrible, screeching creatures were all spinning around Mazikeen, all of them shouting about the human who had managed to escape and who had run into the mists, never to be seen again.  

Dream's attention snapped to it.  He'd missed Hob?  He'd been late?  

With a rush of sand, he called himself away from the gate and into the mists, far from the sight of those attempting to find the one who'd escaped.  There was no sound here, nothing but the faint echo of listless sand and the deserted in-between realms.  It was heavy, and Dream could picture Hob struggling to breathe in such a space, panic growing in him.  

Once he was sure he'd managed enough distance, he poured out his sand, slowly, carefully.  "Take me to him, take me to my heart."  The sand claimed him in a wave, and Dream nearly despaired when there was no immediate sight of Hob Gadling, until he felt something hit his legs.  The sight of Hob, crawling on his hands and knees, the Nephilim dagger clenched in his hand, his face twisted in pain, had Dream dropping to his knees to wrap his arms around Hob's shoulders.  

"Dream," Hob breathed, trembling, shuddering, leaning into the cool touch.  It was almost too black, now, and he couldn't breathe.  "Dream."  Dream had come for him, just like he'd promised, and now he was safe.  He didn't have to run anymore.  "Dream."  He let himself collapse and had to pray that it would be enough as the darkness swept over him as he fell into Dream's arms.  

Dream caught Hob Gadling and combed his hair out of his face, pressing a desperate kiss to his forehead.  "I have you, you're safe.  You've made it," Dream promised, his sand swirling around him in deepening circles.  "I have you, my heart, you are safe."  With that last whispered promise, and a lack of knowledge of where to bring Hob Gadling in the Waking world, Dream brought him back into the Dreaming, and back to the castle.  

Here, he needed protection to have his physical form and body in such a space, but Dream did not hesitate to pluck one of the foundation gems from a corner of the Dreaming, fashioning it into a necklace just like the ruby had been to hang around his neck.  The emerald glowed where it sat against Hob's skin, and Dream admired it, even as he took Hob to his chambers to rest and begin to recover.  

Jessamy was the first to realize he had returned, flying through his window to land on the edge of the bed, where he was stretched out beside Hob Gadling.  "My lord?"  

Dream's eyes moved to her and he offered a smile before he held out his free hand and let her nestle close, his shoulders relaxing under the comforting presence.  "Thank you," he whispered to her.  "Thank you for finding him, and for both of you for coming to get me.  I could not have asked for a more splendid raven, Jessamy."  

Jessamy puffed her feathers up proudly and pressed in closer to him.  "Just as well that you like him too.  I think he's a rather perfect match for you, even if you didn't tell him your name."  

"He knows it now," Dream said, reaching out to take Hob Gadling's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.  

"He's wearing a foundation stone, isn't he?" She asked, giving a caw.  "Why's it look so comfortable on him?"  

Dream lifted his eyes and watched the stone give another happy pulse.  Normally they would protest being used in such a way, especially for a human who naturally stepped into the Dreaming, but.  He cleared his throat.  "The Dreaming can sense what he is to me, and the stone has responded in kind.  It will remain that comfortable, as long as he wears it."  

Jessamy let out a grumpy noise.  "If he does not treat you well, I will peck his eyes out."  

Dream muffled a laugh into her feathers.  "And if I were to reassure you that not only does he treat me adequately, he is everything I wish to have?"  

"Then he might, might, mind you, be worthy of you," Jessamy said with another small chirp and nip to Lord Morpheus' hair.  "Shall I leave you two alone?  Lucienne has things well in hand."  

"For now, please.  I will return to my work soon, but I wish to be able to return him to where he resides in the Waking," Dream said, giving her another squeeze, before gently tossing her into the air to let her soar out the window.  With a smile, he glanced down at Hob Gadling and watched his lips turn up.  

"She would peck my eyes out, wouldn't she?" Hob asked, grinning up at Dream.  

"Without hesitation," Dream agreed, settling back down on the bed to look at Hob, reaching out to stroke his cheek.  "She is a dear friend."  

Hob hummed and leaned itno the gentle press of fingertips.  "I'm glad to hear it.  You deserve all of the friends that you can get."  He smiled at Dream and yawned, closing his eyes as he settled against the pillow.  "Guessing I'm wearing the Emerald version of your ruby so I can recover?"  

Dream hummed.  "It is allowing you to remain here in your physical form without any issues.  Humans do not often come here outside their mind."  He reached out and brushed some of Hob's hair off of his face.  "I am sorry I was not waiting at the gates."  

"S'fine," Hob said with a yawn, moving in closer to that touch.  "I just kept running and didn't let them catch up to me.  You're the one that found me, so everything worked out.  Alec get back okay?"  

Dream nodded.  "As far as I am aware, he did.  His Magnus pulled him back to his time after the ritual."  

"And how about the Magnus of this time?  I like him," Hob muttered, reaching out to wrap an arm around Dream and pull him closer.  "Kinda want to have drinks again with him sometime.  Bet he could drink me under the table, been ages since I knew someone who could do that."  

"He is.  I summoned his friend to take him and keep him safe.  If you wish to get in contact, I am able to facilitate that if you wish.  I must grant him his boon, after all," Dream added, almost an afterthought.  

Hob grinned and leaned up to kiss Dream's cheek.  "You're gonna give him library access, right?  He's not going to have to work to earn that, or something, right?"  

Dream raised his eyebrows.  "It's my library."  

Hob kept his eyebrows raised pointedly, staring at Dream until he relented and nodded.  "Okay good.  It'll make it easier to hang out with him if he can get here too."  

Dream shook his head.  "Whatever am I to do with you, Hob Gadling?"

Hob laughed and reached up to tangle his fingers in Dream's hair.  "If you have nothing of immediate urgency summoning you to your throne room, I can suggest several things."

"Oh?" Dream let himself be tugged in closer, their lips teasing each other.  "Could you now?"  He reached out to tap Hob's temple.  "And what makes you believe that I cannot see every fantasy you paint while you are here or in the Waking?"  

Hob's eyes widened and he grinned in delight.  "Well, I would say I have quite the list to begin working through, love.  Care to oblige?"  

What a ridiculous human.  Dream was pulled that last inch into a kiss, Hob taking control of it, tugging on his hair for the perfect angle, and more than that, precisely where he was wanted.  A shiver ran up his spine and he settled back onto his sheets, watching the emerald glow on Hob's chest.  

"Now, I get the feeling," Hob said, grinning down at Dream.  "This emerald might help me out with a few things."  He winked and in a heartbeat, they were both without clothes and he lit up in delight.  "Like that!"  

The raw creative power of the Dreaming was at his disposal and Hob Gadling used it to remove their clothing.  With a laugh, Dream pulled him down for another kiss, stroking his fingers across Hob Gadling's cheeks.  

"Quite like that, my heart," he agreed, watching Hob's eyes light up all over again.  It was, perhaps, a sight that he was more than willing to get used to.  The smile pressed into his lips, and the wave of raw emotion, in turn, told him everything he wished to know about Hob’s response. 

What was new love, if not hope given form?  As Dream let himself be swept away by his own hope, given human form, he could not hope but believe that, perhaps, this time, it would be different. 

(It was.)