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It was a beautiful sunny day after a week of dreary, overcast skies and rain, and Hob was intending to take full advantage of it. He had a list of errands as long as his arm, and the morning was young and full of potential. Hob was doing a final pat-down of his pockets—phone, wallet, keys all accounted for—when he stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room to find Dream standing in the middle of it.
“Hello, Hob.”
Hob was only marginally startled at the abrupt entrance of his old stranger, but he still jumped slightly in surprise. Dream’s visits had become more frequent since their reconciliation, but he was no less sporadic and spontaneous about them. Which was fine by Hob; he’d take a visit from his oldest friend whenever he got them. Still, a heads up would sometimes be appreciated.
Hob recovered with a chuckle and gave a smile in greeting. “Hello yourself, my friend. What brings you by this morning?”
Dream stood with his hands in his coat pockets, momentarily distracted by Hob’s dog Daisy—a beagle who was circling his feet and sniffing at him. She was normally such a yappy thing, but she rarely barked at Dream. Which seemed fitting somehow, though it didn’t seem to be out of any sense of ease toward him…Dream just seemed to always make things around him quieter.
“Must I have a purpose when I come to visit you?” he replied belatedly, watching Daisy for a moment longer before raising his eyes to meet Hob’s. “Can the visit itself not be the purpose?”
Hob looked at him flatly, shifting his jaw and not falling for the bait. “Of course.”
A beat passed.
Dream broke first.
“There is something on my mind.”
Ah ha.
“How can I help?” Hob offered.
Dream seemed reluctant to say, and he let himself be distracted by staring at the drooping leaves of the plants in Hob’s window. Hob waited him out. Daisy had no such patience and trotted into the bedroom to find more interesting things to sniff at. Not that there was much interesting in the flat at the moment.
He hadn’t fully unpacked and settled into his new flat, in his new life, in this new skin that he would wear for the next decade. It was all boxes and bags and packing supplies littered about. He’d gotten as far as being able to sleep and eat and bathe here. It wasn’t quite home yet, still missing a few things. That’s what most of his errand list today was going to be taking care of.
All that to say, there was only so much for Dream to look at before he had to look at Hob again. A couch that still had plastic on it. A half-assembled entertainment unit. Two full boxes of loose papers and things that he shuddered to think about sorting through.
“I find my thoughts occupied by a story that my sister told me not too long ago,” Dream finally spoke.
Hob tilted his head. “Which sister?”
“My eldest sister, Death.” Dream fixed him with a stare, the corner of his mouth turning up. “She says hello, by the way.”
Hob raised his eyebrows. Same as Dream’s abrupt visits, Hob was growing more used to Dream’s casual mentions of his fellow Endless siblings, but it was still jarring to hear him refer to the personification of Death herself so casually.
“Oh, well, hello to her too then,” he said with a smile. “I hope she’s well?”
“She is,” Dream murmured, turning his eyes to the bedroom, where Daisy’s shadow was bobbing around.
A shame that Hob had yet to pursue dentistry in his long life: he surely had enough practice with pulling teeth when it came to getting information out of his oldest companion.
“What story did she tell you?” he asked.
Dream tilted his head, taking a few steps to the side around the plastic-wrapped couch. “She told me of a routine that she has developed…of once every hundred years, spending an entire day in the Waking World as a living human…and greeting herself at the end of that day as Death. To…put herself in the shoes of the humans who receive her gift. To better understand why they react to her the way that they do. To gain…perspective.”
Hob blinked, leaning his shoulder against the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. “Once every hundred years, eh? Sounds familiar.”
His teasing didn’t land, as Dream was too lost in his thoughts to appreciate the joke.
“I have been the custodian of the human unconscious for as long as there have been humans,” he mused softly. “My realm is crafted to their needs, their wants. Great care has been taken to ensure that everything that sleeps will be safe with me when they close their eyes. To find escape, adventure…dreams and nightmares alike…And yet…I have done all of this without ever experiencing what they experience.” He raised his eyes to hold Hob’s. “I do not sleep. I do not dream. I have never had need of either, and yet of late I find myself…curious.”
“About sleep?” Hob prompted. “Oh, sleep is great. Restful. Rejuvenating. Like a human reset button. You know that old advice for electronics: try turning it off and turning it back on again? Turns out that’s pretty solid advice for human brains too,” he grinned, tapping his finger against his head.
“I am not interested in sleeping. I am interested in dreaming. What it…feels like…to dream with the limitations of a human mind,” Dream replied.
“Oh.” Hob frowned, not sure how he was supposed to help with that. “Well, I can…describe it for you. I don’t remember most of my dreams after about an hour of waking up, but I can try—”
“I wish to experience it for myself.”
“Oh.” Hob’s brow furrowed in confusion. He REALLY didn’t know how he was supposed help with THAT. “Well, um…you aren’t human, friend.”
“I am not,” Dream concurred, “and my sister is not, but she is able to make herself human in aspects that would allow her to experience the gift of death. I, likewise, am able to make myself human in aspects that would allow me to experience the Dreaming…as a dreamer.”
His expression pinched slightly, and Hob could almost see him rolling around the logistics of performing such a task. Hob similarly tried to wrap his head around Dream as a human. Inwardly, he wouldn’t lie that he had privately considered what it might be like. If Dream was a human who breathed and slept and was warm to the touch. Very privately considered.
“Wouldn’t your, uh, wouldn’t everybody in the Dreaming recognize you? Those dreams and nightmares would treat you differently if they knew who you were…You ever watch this show called Undercover Boss?”
“I could disguise myself,” Dream went on. “Make myself such that they would only see a human consciousness when I entered my own realm through sleep.”
Hob turned that over in his head. As much as he might have privately considered what Dream of the Endless would be like if he wasn’t so Endless…he always ended up concluding that Dream would never be a presence that could simply…blend in. He was too ethereal, with the eyes and the voice and the hair and the…whole vibe of him. He was too…dreamy.
“And you’re…asking my opinion?” he asked, still trying to figure out how Hob Gadling could help a being like Dream accomplish this fantastical experiment.
Dream’s lips pursed, ever reluctant to ask for help on anything.
“A sleeping human exists simultaneously in two realms while in sleep. The Waking World and the Dreaming. If I am to render my being as human enough to enter the Dreaming as a guest, then I must likewise be tethered to the Waking World…My physical manifestation would remain here…”
And humans are at their most vulnerable when they are asleep. There was a lesson that Hob had learned long before that fateful meeting in 1389.
“You…want me to keep an eye on you while you’re sleeping?” Hob blurted, nearly dizzy with the dozen different feelings that came with that kind of request.
“I do not require protection,” Dream quickly corrected. “As temporarily human as I might be for this experiment, I am still Dream of the Endless, and the weapons forged of this world could not harm me.”
Hob held up his hands. “Of course, mate. I didn’t mean to imply…How would you have me help you then?”
“I…” Dream paused, looking like he was sucking on a lemon for a beat before proceeding. “I would request that you simply…remain near. As a precaution should this experiment not go well. If I should need assistance…waking up.”
“To keep an eye on you,” Hob reiterated.
Dream pouted, and Hob hastily went on.
“I’ll do it. Whatever you want. I mean, I know what you’re getting at. I guess—y’know, humans have our circadian rhythms that tell us when to sleep and when to wake, when to eat, and all that. I guess you Endless lot don’t have those?”
“Not in such…human terms.” Dream eyed him. “I believe the best method to optimize my experience would be to extend this to what humans would call a ‘good night’s sleep’. How is that quantified in this age?”
Hob blinked, put his hands on his hips, and puffed out his cheeks with a sigh. “Uh, about 8 hours I guess? If I can manage to get that much, then I’m usually very happy about it.”
Dream nodded. “Very well. Will you wake me in eight hours, if I cannot do so naturally?”
Wait…
“N-Now?” Hob startled.
“Why should I wait? I have made the decision, and I am eager to begin.”
Hob mouthed soundlessly for a moment. This was not how he was expecting the day to go at all. Dream watched him, tilting his head thoughtfully.
“Unless you have other plans in place at the moment. I would not impose—”
“No, no,” Hob quickly said, taking his wallet and keys out of his pocket and dropping them on the counter. “I was just getting back from…breakfast actually. No plans. I’m all yours.”
Dream stared at him. It wasn’t a particularly well-executed lie, but Dream was clearly so preoccupied with this experiment that he didn’t question Hob.
“Very well,” he conceded.
A strange expression of uncertainty moved across his face then, and Hob picked up on it immediately.
“Well, let’s get you to sleep then, eh?”
Dream frowned slightly. “I…confess I do not know how to do that.”
“Oh, it’s easy. I imagine it’ll be very easy for someone who’s never slept before,” Hob said, waving a hand and leading him over to the bedroom.
“How so?” Dream lightly followed after him.
“Well, if you’ve never slept, you’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I do not require—”
“I know, I know, but everybody has to get tired sometime,” Hob chuckled.
His bedroom was just as bare and unsettled as the rest of the flat. His bed was made, but his clothes and other baubles were still boxed up against the walls.
“I suppose.”
Hob gestured in welcome to the bed. “Um, so I can lend you some pajamas, or—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dream replied, sitting on the side of the bed carefully.
Hob rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, humans like to be cozy when they sleep—”
“I am aware of that, but I do not require it. This will suffice.”
And with that, Dream maneuvered to lay down on the mattress, simultaneously graceful in his movements and awkward in his lack of familiarity with those movements. So when he ended up lying straight on the bed on his back, looking all the world like a vampire, Hob stifled a snicker by rubbing his jaw.
“Right, well, I’ll…leave you to it then I guess. I’ll just be puttering around the rest of the flat until you need me. Unless you want me to…stay in here with you?”
“I do not require you to monitor me, Hob.”
“Right…Right,” Hob took a breath. “Um, sleep well then, I guess?”
Dream had already closed his eyes, and Hob’s eyebrows went up.
He wasn’t sure if it was impressive that the King of Dreams could fall asleep that quickly, but damn if it wasn’t enviable.
He was equally unsure if being the King of Dreams made it very easy to be startled awake. So Hob was careful as he backed out of the room. Daisy remained by the bedside, tail swishing side to side, looking perplexed.
You and me both, girl.
Hob looked at the dog and lifted a finger to his lips before retreating fully back to the living room.
With a heavy sigh, he set his wallet and keys back on the counter and looked at his phone.
9 am.
He sighed again, before toeing out of his shoes and preparing for a day in.
Well, maybe he could get in a good day’s work of unpacking.
He opened the windows in the living room and kitchen to let in some of that gorgeous sunlight and then got started.
He decided that the least noisy task would be to unpack the materials for the second bedroom of the flat, which he was going to be using as a home study. The bookshelves and desk had already been moved in there, and so he set about unpacking his books and documents and placing them on the shelves in the proper order. He found his recently purchased office supplies and settled the pens and paperclips and other miscellany in their drawers on the desk. He rummaged through a box of errant cables until he got his laptop station arranged and his wifi hooked up.
He looked in on his guest occasionally as the hours passed and was able to track an amusing development over the time lapse.
Dream was a messy sleeper.
The vampire position was rapidly abandoned as he fell to sleep. The first time Hob checked on him, he had maneuvered onto his side, his back to the door, limbs only gently bent to a more comfortable position.
The next time, his coat and shoes had gone…dematerialized, Hob assumed, and he had grabbed onto a second pillow, hugging it to his chest unconsciously.
The next time, he’d rolled fully onto his front, and now one leg was bent up toward his chest, while the other was sticking out straight.
Always breathing evenly. Expression always smooth and calm. Quiet as a mouse.
Honestly, it was a relief that Hob didn’t know he wanted to feel: seeing his friend taking a rest like this. Much as he was quick to remind Hob that he didn’t need such things as sleep or food or physical comforts, Hob was just as quick to dismiss those assurances.
Everything that lived needed rest.
Everything that lived needed sustenance.
Everything that lived needed care.
In whatever form that any of those things took for an Endless, an Endless still surely needed them.
And if Dream wouldn’t or couldn’t simply articulate what form those things needed to take for him, then Hob would just provide whatever he knew to the best of his ability. And today, if that was a bed to nap in and a safe place to do it, then Hob could provide. What were friends for?
The sunlight traced a path along the floor as the sun went through its arc for the day, and by mid-afternoon, Hob had successfully finished up his study and finished assembling that entertainment unit…only dropping one piece and mercifully dropping it on a rug, so the noise was minimal.
When he checked on Dream again, he found his guest had rolled over again, this time so that he was on his side facing the doorway. Both legs and one arm were curled up toward his core, having dragged part of the duvet cover across his upper half. His other arm was sticking straight out, hanging off the side of the bed.
Dream of Endless did not require being cozy. What a lot of bullshit, Hob thought fondly as he watched him for a moment. He sure looked cozy. His clothes even seemed to have melted into a softer fabric more akin to sleepwear.
And there were those private considerations again. What might it be like, to wake up to this sight every morning?
Jesus Christ, Hob, he chastised himself, making to leave again.
Instead of leaving, however, he lingered, listening to the tiniest, breathiest noise as Dream exhaled and shifted in sleep again.
Oh, he was beautiful…messy sleeper or not.
And oh, Hob was right and truly fucked.
Stiffly but unable to help himself, he tiptoed closer to the bedside. He carefully tugged more of the blanket up and over the rest of Dream’s form, to fight off the chill that the afternoon was bringing with it. Then he gently moved Dream’s arm so that the limb wasn’t hanging off the bed, returning it to his side on the mattress.
Dream didn’t stir, and Hob didn’t dare any more than that, retreating back to his work in the other room.
It was an hour or so later that Hob’s phone chimed, alerting him that the eight hours that Dream had set as his parameter for a “good night’s sleep” had concluded. Hob shut off the alarm and returned to the bedroom door, peering inside.
Dream hadn’t moved much since his last check-in: bundled up under the blanket on his side and nuzzled into the pillow under his head. Bloody adorable, and one day Hob would have the guts to say that out loud to his face.
It took him a moment to notice Daisy. The dog had hopped up onto the bed at some point during the day, and she had chosen to curl up against Dream’s back, resting her head in the dip between his ribcage and his hip. Her eyes were half open, but they opened more fully as Hob came into the room. Her tail thumped against the bed twice, and Hob chuckled as he crossed over to the bed. He reached out and scratched at her ears.
“Keeping an eye on our guest, little miss?” he whispered. “I appreciate the help.”
Daisy thumped her tail once more, then shifted her head slightly against Dream, ears perking up at Hob’s voice.
It didn’t seem that Dream was going to wake up on his own naturally…supernaturally…to whatever rhythm an Endless followed. That left Hob with the torturous and rude task of waking him himself.
“Dream,” he said softly.
Of course that got no response, and Hob huffed, clearing his throat and stepping closer.
“Dream, it’s been eight hours.”
Nothing.
Hob frowned and moved closer still, until his knees were touching the bedside. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
When THAT got no response—when he knew Dream would have woken up like a gunshot over being referred to by such a silly name—Hob grew bolder and reached out a hand. He gently grasped Dream’s shoulder and gave him a little wiggle. He was rewarded this time as Dream shifted intentionally, beginning to stir.
“Hey,” Hob still spoke softly. “Dream.”
Dream’s eyes moved under the lids for a moment before they cracked open, and they took a moment after that to focus properly, blinking and looking up at Hob with groggy recognition.
“Hello,” Hob greeted with a smile. “All right?”
Dream blinked again, looking perplexed for a tenth of a second before shifting again. He stretched his neck across the pillow and glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Thin lines of indentations were present on the underside of his face, where he had been pressed against a wrinkle in the pillow case. And if that was just a little bit of drool on said pillow case, then Hob knew better than to point it out.
“What…day is it?” Dream asked, voice thick with sleep still.
If that wasn’t relatable. Hob chuckled and straightened up, folding his arms.
“Same day as before, friend. Just eight hours later.”
Dream blinked, rolling slowly onto his back to look over at the window, where the daylight was rapidly fading into oranges and pinks of early dusk. Daisy wiggled backwards, dislodged from her resting place. Instead of getting up, however, she just yawned and set her head down on Dream’s stomach instead, having apparently decided that for all the bony angles and pointiness of him, he wasn’t a bad place to rest her head.
“Curious,” Dream breathed, looking to be in no haste to get up.
Hob watched him think his thoughts for a moment.
“How did it go?” he finally asked.
Dream continued to stare at the window for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Hob.
“It was…enlightening…” He seemed unsure of how to articulate beyond that, and Hob decided not to push.
“Well, do you feel rested at least?” he simply asked.
Dream frowned slightly in thought. “I don’t know.”
“That’s all right. You certainly looked like you were sleeping pretty hard,” Hob admitted. “You’re welcome to nap a little longer if you want. I was just about to start on supper, which you’re also welcome to join if you like.”
He waited for the usual retort of what Dream did not require from the Waking World, but it didn’t come this time. Instead, Dream absently traced a finger along Daisy’s floppy ear, watching her nuzzle against him for a moment longer. Then he sighed deeply and started to sit up.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I must return to my realm…properly as myself.”
Daisy, dislodged for an unforgivable second time, huffed and got up, shuffling around before hopping down from the bed and padding out of the room. Hob and Dream both watched her go before Hob looked at Dream again.
He did look rested…while simultaneously looking like he had more thoughts on his mind than when he’d started this experiment. Which, Hob supposed was the point of an experiment, but deep down he had maybe hoped that Dream would find more answers than questions after this. He looked like he’d just discovered a whole new project to undertake. Every second that passed, as wakefulness fully dawned, Hob could see the weight laying back down onto his shoulders.
“All right,” he conceded. “Well, I’m glad I could help…I mean, I guess that’s what I did today—”
“You did,” Dream assured, extricating himself from the blankets and climbing out of bed and back to his feet.
By the time his feet hit the floor, they were back in shoes, and his clothes had shifted form back to what he had been wearing when he arrived.
“There are few that I would trust during such an experiment in…vulnerability.” Dream, ever hesitant to admit that he had let himself be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form.
Still, he’d managed it, and Hob smiled at him for it.
“Anytime, my friend.”
Dream glanced toward the dark window, visibly growing eager to return to the Dreaming to analyze his experience today.
“I will take my leave now. Perhaps I will visit you again in a month’s time, if you are…unopposed.”
Hob grinned and walked ahead into the living room, Dream following slowly behind.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then, if not before. Always good to see you.”
Dream offered a small smile in return. “Farewell, Hob, and thank you.”
And just like that, he was gone. Hob watched him vanish, blinked, and then sighed, slumping backward slightly to lean against the wall. The curtains swished slightly in the wake of Dream’s departure, and Hob put his hands on his hips, looking around the empty flat again.
Daisy eyed him, where she was sprawled out on her side on the living room rug. Hob looked at her, took a breath, drew himself up, and exhaled with a grin.
“Yep. I’m gonna go ahead and count that as a slumber party,” he said, then bobbed his head and turned into the kitchen to start supper.
The to-do list went back under the magnet on the fridge. He’d get to it tomorrow.