Archive of Our Own

Hob could not remember the last time that he had had a headache for more than a week.

Especially one that got steadily worse and worse.  

He rubbed impatiently at his temples and took a deep breath.  If there was one thing he hated about his whole new role and being Endless (at least most of the time, sometimes he didn't feel like it and it seemed to follow how he felt, adding to the oddness), was that ibuprofen was entirely hit or miss in terms of working.  Of course, it had been failing to work for the entire week, and now his skin was starting to itch.  

Hob took a deep breath and focused on the stack of papers in front of him.  End of term grading was always horrible, but now, the school was almost suffocating with all of the hope that every student was giving off in desperate waves.  He suspected that's precisely where the headache was coming from and as soon as the worst of it was over, he'd return to normal.  As it was, he wasn't going to be able to teach classes in this state, wincing at the volume of his own voice and the whistling of the kettle.  

Hob managed another deep breath and sipped the tea, taking another two ibuprofen, and marking the time on his phone.  He wasn't willing to push his luck, at least not at the moment.  But maybe he would call Dream to knock him out tonight so he could get some proper sleep.  His headache didn't interfere with things while he was in the Dreaming, but none of his music sounded in proper tune, so he'd been avoiding that as well, choosing to just sleep as normally as he possibly could.  

He leaned back on the couch, clenching his eyes shut, trying to breathe.  In the back of his mind, he could hear the discordant music of Hope, letting him know that something was wrong, that what was building wasn't good.  He needed to let it out somehow, but hell if he knew how.  Picturing the release on a pressure valve, Hob forced several deep breaths, but the pain pounding at his temples only increased.  It didn't go away when he granted hopes either, he'd checked.  

He needed to talk to Dream, or this could end up badly.  

Hob shook himself and leaned back over his essays.  He would finish this stack and then he would go to talk to Dream about what was happening and why.  And how he could go about getting rid of this magical pressure headache.  The words started to swim and he blinked hard, forcing them into focus for himself.  After another few seconds, the light of his lamp started to become brighter and brighter and Hob clenched his jaw, waiting for it to recede.  The pain was getting worse by the second.  

"Dream!" Hope sent the summons just before the wave of pain hit, enough to send him falling back to the couch, the pen tumbling from his fingers as his whole body went tense in agony.  Hob tried to force himself to breathe, but Hope was there, demanding control, shouting for Dream, summoning him, franticness in every musical note that swirled around him.  What was going on, why was this happening, why did his head feel like it was going to split open?  He hadn't been in this much pain since he had become an Endless, and even then it hadn't felt like this!  

Hope tightened his hands on the arm of the couch, gasping in relief as Dream swarmed into the room in a second, a wild mix of desperate shadow, and reached for him.  "H-Help!"  He felt Hob fighting for control again and tried to grit his teeth.  "We don't know what's happening, he's going to lose control!"  

Dream had seconds to realize that Hope was teetering on the edge of an explosion of power that could easily level the city of London.  He didn't bother to answer the question, instead reaching out to wrap himself around Hope, swallowing him in its entirety, tucking Hope away and into the galaxies of his coat right as the eruption let go, hitting him in wave after wave.  It was agony, and Hope was screaming again and again, waves of power and hope, good, bad, and prayers that had been given to him, all of it washing over Dream and tangling with him.  

He managed to pull himself back to the Dreaming, crashing into the ground, his essence burning, and still, Hope screamed.  Here, in the Dreaming, it was louder, and echoed through the entire realm, all of it shaking with the power bleeding out of him.  Dream tightened his hold on Hope, trying to keep him contained, and, gritting his teeth, reached out to one of his siblings.  "Desire!  Hurry!"

He felt the moment Desire stepped into the Dreaming, and their words echoed in his mind but caused no recognition.  He couldn't hear them any longer, all of his focus was wrapped around his husband, his King Consort, his Hope, and trying to control the violent waves of power wracking the Dreaming.  In an instant, Desire was closer, and the next lash of power was far lower, and the rest weakened, bit by bit.  Dream heaved, the Dreaming aching under the weight of Hope's pain, and carefully, carefully lifted his face to where Desire was staring at them both, their expression twisted with fear.  

"What..." Dream licked his lips, dry and chapped, and did not let himself focus on the devastation of the area around him.  They would rebuild.  They would.  "How did you stop it?"  

Desire shook their head.  "I didn't.  I just took the last few lashes.  How many of those waves did you get hit with?"  

Dream's eyes fluttered.  How many?  "I do not know."  It had been dozens, all of it bleeding off of Hope, again and again.  He shifted, slowly, carefully, lifting his cloak from Hope, who was curled in a ball, small lightning bursts of power appearing over his skin again and again.  "What was that?  He completely lost control?"  

"I do not know, brother," Desire answered, crouching beside Dream, and Hope.  "But we have trained him well, something like this should not have overloaded him.  Something else is going on."  

Dream swallowed and reached down to comb his fingers through Hope's hair, pushing it back from his face, even as his whole being kept trembling.  The Dreaming fluctuated around them and he struggled to bring it into focus, but it slipped through his fingers.  Something was wrong.  "I believe..." he paused, frowning, before glancing up at his sibling.  "The power did something to me."  

Desire tensed.  "In what way?"  

"I do not know," Dream said, his voice soft.  "I am uninjured.  But something is different.  I can feel it in the very core of me.  Something has been changed."  He trembled and shifted to bring Hope into his lap, cradling him carefully.  

"You're going to be all right, Dream.  Both of you are going to be fine.  I'm going to go speak with Destiny," Desire stated, standing in a rush.  "Do not do anything foolish."  

Dream focused back on Hob, on Hope, and pressed their foreheads together.  Whatever had changed, whatever Hope had done to him, he would bear it without resentment.  Hob had called him for help, exactly as he had asked, and they would figure anything further out together.  He took another deep breath and looked to the sky, reaching out for Matthew after several extended moments.  

"Boss?" Matthew called, soaring into a part of the Dreaming that looked like a bomb had gone off.  "Woah, what the hell happened?"  

"I will..." Dream paused, feeling Hope stir in his arms.  "I will explain after, Matthew.  Please tell Lucienne that she is in charge until Hope and I return."  

"Was he hurt?" Matthew asked, hopping on the grass beside Dream.  "Both you and he look like you went five rounds with Tyson and-"

"Matthew," Dream growled, watching as he took wing.  Hob's face had scrunched and it was clear that he was coming back to consciousness. 

Hob clenched his eyes shut, but for the first time in more than a week, his head didn't hurt, and he gasped with relief, his eyes flying open immediately.  He looked up at Dream and scrambled into a sitting position, patting himself down.  The pain was gone, entirely, but Dream looked like he had been in a fight.  "Dream?  What happened?"  

Dream swayed, glad when Hob did not move far, and instead knelt beside him and took his hand, squeezing it slowly.  He took a deep breath and leaned into Hob, pressing his forehead against his shoulder, his being, down to the very depths of him, still aching from the pulses of power that had erupted from Hope.  "Something happened.  I'm not entirely sure of what nature.  What do you remember?"  

Hob frowned, tightening his hold on Dream's hand.  "Wait, you're okay, right?  Dream?"  

Dream opened his mouth to answer and snapped it shut.  "Something is different.  I do not know what.  I am uninjured, though.  But something is different."  

"Right," Hob swallowed, staring at him.  "That's no less worrying.  But as for what happened, I don't know.  I've had a headache for a week, but I figured that was just being surrounded by students and faculty hoping a lot stronger than usual."  He shrugged when Dream gave him a piercing look.  "It was a headache, I didn't think anything of it.  It didn't get really bad until this afternoon though.  Then it escalated, almost out of nowhere."  He frowned and rubbed his hand through his hair.  "I think I remember calling you for help?"  

"Screaming, for help would be a more accurate statement," Dream said.  "I have never felt you, or Hope as panicked as you were at that moment."  

Hob tensed and lifted Dream's hand up to kiss it.  "I destroyed this part of the Dreaming, didn't I?"  He looked around with sorrowful eyes.  "I'll help you rebuild it.  Whatever we have to do, I'll help make it right."  

"You destroyed it... through me," Dream answered, his face twisting in remembered confusion.  "I absorbed the first several dozen blows in the Waking, but had I not contained it, it had the possibility to destroy London, and perhaps an even wider spread of the country."  

Hob's breath caught and he stared at Dream, tears gathering in his eyes.  "I... what?  I could have destroyed London?  Why?  What happened?  I, it didn't feel like losing control!"  He stared down at the barren ground beside them and pressed his fingers into the dirt, his whole heart aching with the realization that the Dreaming, that Dream, had been hurt because of him.  "Dream, how did that happen?  I thought power didn't build up like that for an Endless?  We are who we are, what we are, and are a personification."  

"You are correct," Dream said softly.  "I suspect there is more at play here than simply what you are alone, but we have to discover what it is.  Desire has gone to speak with Destiny on your behalf."  He combed his fingers through Hob's hair, reassuring them both with a gentle touch.  "How do you feel right now?"  

Hob took a deep breath and took stock of himself, letting Hope come to the forefront, the switch as easy as stepping aside for someone behind him.  These days, it was becoming far less of a necessity and he knew that the day was coming when he and Hope would no longer be separate in his mind.  He smiled and opened his eyes once more, looking at Dream.  Now, rather than before, he could see the devastation that he had wrecked on Dream.  "Dream."  

"It does not hurt," Dream said, reaching out to pull Hope into his arms, hauling him close, before he could become concerned.  "It looks, perhaps, alarming.  But I am not injured.  You did not hurt me.  You could not."  He smiled faintly and kissed Hope's forehead, meeting his golden eyes.  "But something has changed, and I do not know what."  

"Tell me what you did," Hope demanded, frowning.  

"You were giving off waves of power.  I barely managed to move fast enough to contain the first within my essence.  The others that followed were almost too much for me to manage, but once I got you here, both I and the Dreaming could absorb them," Dream held fast when the music that surrounded Hope went soft and low with pain.  "When it was clear you might even still overwhelm me in your pain, I summoned Desire for assistance."  

Hope scowled and pressed a hand to his chest.  "I do not understand what happened.  It is clear that I am now perfectly able to control myself now, we have done nothing to defy the fates, and yet near catastrophe came upon us.  Why?"  

"Desire has gone to Destiny to hopefully have that precise question answered," Dream said, taking another deep breath, feeling Hope reach out to him, his power now soothing and healing where before it had done nothing but rip and tear.  "Until then, I must discover what it is about myself that has been changed.  In the event that it is something that affects the Dreaming, we must make sure all of them are safe."  

"I am sorry," Hope said, hanging his head with a sigh.  "Had I known that the pain would escalate in such a way, I would have insisted upon calling you the moment it appeared.  But it is not strange for you to feel the weight of different moments, as it is for no other Endless, and this was the same."  Hope stroked up and down Dream's back.  "We must discover what has been done to you, and I will help you with whatever it is.  To your castle?"  

"Yes," Dream agreed, forcing himself to take a deep breath and rise to his feet.  Hope stood beside him and he took a moment to wrap his husband into his arms, holding him close, pressing his face into his neck.  "I feared for you, in that moment.  Even knowing that you cannot die, and that we shall always return to each other's arms, seeing you like that..."  Dream shook his head.  "It is not an experience I would desire to repeat."  

Hope nodded once more and leaned in to kiss Dream's cheek, holding on as long as he needed before they were stepping apart and moving through the Dreaming.  It bent around them, but he could see the steadily growing tension in Dream's shoulders as they made their way out of the devastation, only for Dream's sand to sweep around them both and deposit them in front of the castle.  Hope's shoulders relaxed a fraction when he saw the castle still standing in all its glory, not a brick out of place, and his own castle, not far in the background.  He tugged at Dream's hand, only to find himself pulled abruptly short as Dream didn't follow him.  

"Dre..." Hob trailed off and stared at his husband, his King.  Dream had frozen, his expression twisted in an expression he didn't recognize, staring out across the Dreaming, all of it that they could see from where they stood.  "Dream?" he called, frowning.  "What's wrong?"  

Dream said nothing, staring at the Dreaming in front of him.  The major arcana had been unharmed, and Fiddler's Green was on the other side of the bridge, flourishing brightly as it was always wont to do.  A single tear slid down his cheek, and then another, as he looked across the entire Dreaming, from Dream to Dream, Nightmare to Nightmare, even to the Dreamers who attempted to cross the bridge to his castle.  All of them, they were so beautiful, filled with endless potential, and an endless capacity for creativity and imagination.  They were...

"Dream!" Hope called again, stepping in front of him, but Dream hadn't looked down, was still staring out across the Dreaming, tears now silently falling down his cheeks in thick rivers, his face twisted in sorrow.  Whatever he had done to cause this reaction, he would do anything and everything in his power to undo it, to make it right.  "Dream, answer me, can you hear me?  What's wrong with the Dreaming?" 

Dream continued to stare out across the Dreaming, breathing deep, reaching out to touch the Dreamers and Dreams cradled within him, that were him.  He breathed in deep and held them, so carefully, so gently.  When had he last made sure that they were taken care of?  When had he last cared for them, felt the depths of his being ache at the love for each and every single one of them, flawed as they were?  They were potential, endless, and joyful, and he'd loved them, he'd loved them so much.  How long had it been since he'd let himself remember?  Since he'd let himself feel this for each of them?  

Hob's expression crumpled when a soft, hiccuping noise escaped Dream and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Dream.  "Whatever I took, I'll make it right, Dream.  I promise.  Whatever it is that I broke, whatever is wrong, I'll give it back.  I'll find a way to make it okay, I don't care what I have to do.  I'll fix it, I promise.  Just please... please be okay.  I need you and the Dreaming to be okay."  Hob held on as tight as he dared, even as Dream remained stiff as a statue, staring into the distance across the Dreaming, but pressed this close, he could feel the faintest trembles that were going through Dream the longer time went on.  

A violent tremble went through him as Dream, at last, yanked his awareness back to his husband holding onto him tightly, mumbling promises against him of making whatever he had done right.  Dream reached out and carefully enfolded Hob into his arms again, pressing his nose into Hob's hair and inhaling the sweet scent of it, the joyful tune of music that leapt up and twirled around them both.  Tears gathered in his eyes once more at the obvious joy that he could hear in it now and he vowed to memorize it, so have the song as a comfort to himself when Hope was not present here in the Dreaming.  

"Dream?  Dream, are you back?  Are you all right?"  Hob asked, pulling back to look at Dream, sagging in relief when Dream's eyes were fully present now and focused on him.  He let out a rough breath and reached up to cup his face, wiping away the tear tracks.  "Dream, look at me, what's wrong?  What happened?"  

A wrong had been righted.  And it would spell the doom of the universe itself.  

Had he the strength to do it a second time?  Dream trembled, holding onto Hob as tight as he dared.  Could he do it again, now, knowing that he would lose even more this time, that it would not only be this, but it would also be Hob?  "I had somehow forgotten," Dream answered.  "What it felt like."  

Hob resisted the urge to growl at the half-answer, but at least Dream was answering and was no longer a statue in his arms.  "Forgot what felt like, my Dream?"  

Dream's lips twisted in an ironic curve and he lowered his eyes to Hob, still wrapped comfortably in his arms.  "What Hope felt like," he answered, his voice simple.  He stared out across the Dreaming once more, and wondered at the path his Elder Brother foresaw for them, and had it led here?  Had ripping out his own hope to put duty first been one of the triggers for the creation of a new Endless?  Had it all been connected in such a way?  

"Dream, what the hell does that mean?" Hob snapped.  "Talk to me.  What is going on?  Why were you crying?  Are you hurt?"  

"Before Rose Walker and Unity Kincaid," Dream started, his voice soft.  "There was another Vortex.  I have told you what my role is for them, and how they must be destroyed or they destroy all of the Dreaming and Waking world?"

Hob tensed and swallowed, looking up at Dream.  "Yes, but I don't know what that has to do with-"

Dream pressed his finger to Hob's lips and shook his head.  "This Vortex, I liked her.  She was rather like you.  Filled with joy and curiosity.  I did not want to harm her, even though it was my duty to do so.  The things that she did with the Dreaming as a powerful Dreamer were magnificent, and to lose her as a Dreamer, to take her life... it was an anathema to me.  I could not begin to snuff out such a light.  It was my duty, and it has always been my duty, but for the first time, I failed."  

Hob's breath caught.  "You... failed?"  

"Yes," Dream answered.  "An entire universe was lost.  The Dreaming and the Waking with it.  All of it fell."  His eyes fluttered in remembered pain.  "Because I failed in my duty, because I could not do what must be done, what is required of me to destroy the vortex, and she destroyed everything."  

Hob swallowed hard and held Dream tight.  There was nothing that he could say to that, truly.  Nothing that would not ring hollow.  "What happened next?"  

Dream hummed and let his eyes fall halfway shut.  "It had to be undone, of course," he stated, his voice matter of fact.  He paused, his being aching in remembered pain.  "So I altered reality so it was."  Dream shifted to look down to Hope.  "I undid what the Vortex had done.  I altered reality enough so I brought them all back, the Waking, the Dreaming, and..." he paused, frowning.  "And with all such changes of such scale, I changed the only thing that would make a difference."  

Dread settled, low and deep in his belly, and Hob stared at Dream, realizing all at once, what Dream had done.  What he had changed, what he had done to make a difference.  

"I changed myself," Dream continued.  "As part of the reality changing, I ensured that never again would I put my personal feelings above that of my duty.  My duty would come first in all things, always.  Before any other part of my existence, my duty and my role would be paramount, so I would never again make the wrong choice and doom all of existence by my foolishness." 

Tears gathered in Hob's eyes and he reached up, cupping Dream's cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss.  "You aren't foolish," he promised, staring up at him.  "You are magnificent, and I love you, more dearly than I have ever loved anyone."  

"I had forgotten," Dream said, his voice low and wondering.  "Or perhaps the change meant that I never remembered, that I never would, so I would never feel the loss and perhaps seek to change back."  His eyes fluttered shut and he turned to press his face into Hob's hair.  "I had forgotten what it felt like... when it such a part of me, as you are."  

"Tell me what you mean?" Hob asked, nudging at Dream's cheek the smallest bit, stealing a soft kiss, then another.  "What do you mean?"  

Dream opened his eyes and looked out across the Dreaming, over Hob's head, and took a slow breath of the sweet air, the scent of flowers dreamed by the Dreamers sinking into him.  "For as long as I have known you, the Dreaming, the Dreamers, the Dreams, the others here, they were all my duty.  It was my duty to care for them, to ensure they are safe, they were protected, and that I put them first in all things.  Who I am, what I am, that was all that mattered, and all that would matter."  He paused, pointedly, his eyes catching on a tree that was dreamed with flowers the most magnificent shade of purple with large fruit dripping from it to the delight of the children beneath it.  

"Now," Dream continued, his voice soft.  "I see the joy of it all.  The unbridled curiosity and imagination that drives everything I am, everything the Dreaming is.  I do not see a duty any longer.  I see joy and hope incarnate.  For without Dreams, the Waking world loses hope, and it is here that they come for that, every night, cradled within this haven I have built for them.  They are me, and they are..." He paused, his eyes landing on one child who split open a fruit and began passing to others.  "They are so beautiful, Hob.  And I had forgotten.  I thought you had shown me again, but I had forgotten.  I took it away from myself so I could ensure they would be safe, that they would always be safe."  

"And in the process, you locked yourself into that lonely role for who knows how long," Hob added at the end, watching as tears began to track down Dream's cheeks again.  "I don't understand what this has to do with what happened, though, Dream.  How are you..." he paused, his eyes widening in shock.  "Is this because of me?"  

"Yes," Dream answered.  "This is what has changed.  The piece of me that I removed when I altered reality, the piece of me that put the joy of creation, the joy of dreams before all other things, even my duty, it has now been returned to me."  He smiled, turning to look at Hob.  "In the form of hope.  I had not known that it was my hope I had removed, but now, it is clear that was the case."  

Hob reached out and tugged Dream into his arms again, holding onto him as tightly as he could, squeezing him.  "I am glad that I was able to give it back to you," he whispered.  "You are so much more than your duty, Dream, and you deserve-"

"No."  

Dream's voice was sharp and sonorous and Hob jolted at it, releasing Dream to pull back and frown at him in confusion.  "No?  What do you mean, no?"  

Dream shook his head, taking a step back.  "Do you not understand?  I cannot... I have to put my duty first.  I must put my duty first, if I do not, the Dreaming and the Waking could suffer the same fate."  

Hob frowned and followed Dream.  "Well, I'm not about to let you rip your, your hope out of yourself again.  You know I've never held the fact that I come second to your duty against you Dream, but if that was something you did to yourself, you don't need to-"

"I must!" Dream said, his voice growing huge and dark with power.  "This puts the Dreamers and the Dreaming at tremendous risk, and I will not have them hurt when the sacrifice is one I would do again without hesitation!"  

"Would you?" Hope challenged, stepping up to glare at Dream.  "You would rip me out of you, the part of me that has healed a part of yourself you destroyed?  The part of you that finds joy, and happiness in your work?  In those, you work with?  You would remove that again?"  

"I do not have a choice!" Dream snarled, glaring at Hope.  "I have told you, I must put my duty above all things!" 

"You always have a choice," Hope corrected, his voice softening.  "You made the choice to remove this part of you, once.  But I was not with you then, and I am with you now."  He stepped closer, reaching out to Dream, even in his half-shifted form into Nightmare, and stroked along his cheek.  "My husband, my King, my love, my Dream."  Hope felt the Dreaming shake with the weight of his call to his husband, to the other half of him.  "You are your duty, and I will never begrudge this of you.  But I would have you be able to take joy and happiness from your duty."  

"Should a Vortex-"

"Another is not going to appear for a few thousand years, by your own admission," Hope interrupted, keeping his eyes on Dream.  "And I understand this is your duty, and for the sake of the Dreaming and Waking, they must be killed.  But my Dream.  I need you to look me in the eyes.  Does it have to be you who does the killing?"  

Dream tensed and stared at Hope, Nightmare falling off of him in increments as he realized the depth of the question being asked of him.  Hope's eyes were shining golden, and the power in them, the promise lurking there that this burden could be one shared, that this did not have to fall solely on him was the worst temptation he had ever faced.  "It is my duty."  

"And I am your husband and King Consort," Hope answered.  "I defend the Dreaming as you do, my love, and it is here that the root of my power grows and spreads.  The Dreaming is now my home as much as the Waking is."  He stroked over Dream's cheeks.  "My love.  Dream.  My heart.  Myne owne hertis rote.  Tell me truthfully now.  Is this a burden that you alone can carry?"

"Hope."  The word escaped him, cracked and broken, but beneath all of it, beneath the weight of obligation, expectation, and duty, was a flame that would not be smothered so easily a second time.  A flame that had been rekindled through the sheer weight of Hope ripping away his duties and obligations with power until only the deepest core of him remained.  "It is a terrible burden."  

"It is," Hope agreed, smiling.  "It is a burden that I would wish on no other.  But knowing how important it is, knowing that you would change your very nature and existence itself to be able to fulfill it, do you not think I would willingly accept  to carry it for you?"  

"I will not ask that of you," Dream answered, shuddering.  

"You don't have to," Hope answered.  "I offer it freely.  Not only do I offer it freely, but I also take it from you now.  It is a burden you are released from, Dream.  When a Vortex next appears, it will be my burden to kill them."  

Dream leaned in and pressed his forehead against Hope's heart, listening to the steady beat with echoing music behind it, letting it clear the clutter from his mind.  "You do not deserve to have to perform such a duty.  It is-"

"It is killing," Hope said, his voice soft.  "And killing is always a terrible business."  He stroked at Dream's hair, cradling him carefully.  “But my beloved.  It is a business I am well familiar with.  Even as I am.  It is a business I know.  I am tied to each of you, and this is no exception.  It would give me nothing but joy to take this burden from you and perform it in your stead as your King Consort.”  

“They are innocent!” Dream growled, tears prickling at his eyes once more.  “They are powerful Dreamers, and they are what they are through no fault of their own, and yet they must-” 

“And perhaps,” Hope interrupted softly.  “With my hand guiding them.  They will understand their sacrifice.  And perhaps they will not.  But perhaps some will choose to make their home in the Dreaming so you do not lose what they offer.  Perhaps, my Dream, this burden was never truly meant to be yours to carry and that is why I take it so willingly.”  

Dream kept himself bent into the circle of Hope’s arms, into the soft comfort that was offered, the thought of his greatest burden being placed aside and into the capable hands of another.  Another who could do what must be done in the name of duty.  “Hope-” 

“Enough now,” Hope breathed into Dream’s hair.  “I wish to see you live an existence that is not solely duty-bound.  I do not believe in coincidence since meeting Destiny, and I will fight any - the fates included, should they keep me from doing this for you.”  

Dream tensed.  “That is an unwise vow.”  

“And yet I make it now.  I have your sister’s vow, even as Hope, my Dream.  There are none who would fight harder against them, with that knowledge.  If they attempt to challenge me, I shall bring the full horror of my power to bear and it shall be regretted by all,” Hope promised, their voice ringing deep with the echo of that power.  “I swear to you, Dream of the Endless, my King, that the responsibility of the Dream Vortex, as they appear, shall fall to me, and me alone.  I will willingly bear this burden on your behalf, and I swear this on all I am as Hope and all I shall ever be.”  

The vow, the honesty behind it, the promise, ricocheted through him, and Dream allowed himself to sag deeper into Hope’s arms.  Perhaps… Perhaps he might allow himself this one weakness.  The importance of his duty, the impending and demanding draw of it was gone for the first time in longer than he could remember, and this was a burden he did not wish to carry, or have.  Was caring for the Dreamers, the Dreams, of all creatures who dreamed not enough of a duty?  Of growing, maintaining, and protecting the Dreaming?  It was a duty he was and always would be. This, this was one he could pass to Hope.  

“I accept your vow,” Dream answered, and just like that, the weight was gone, leaving him sagging and trembling in Hope’s arms.  “I trust that the Dreaming and Waking are safe in your hands, my Hope.”  

“They are,” Hope promised, carefully cradling Dream against him until he was able to stand tall once more.  “I will protect them with my life, and you know how I feel about dying.”  

Dream laughed, and for the first time he could remember in this existence, there was no immediate urge to stifle and muffle it.  So he allowed himself to have the joy of laughing in Hope’s arms, and the echoing laugh from Hope that followed it.  It felt good.  It felt so good, and the Dreaming sang with it beneath them both.