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"My thoughts will follow you into your dreams." Maybe that was a curse.
Stranger understood that he was once a Basil and relatively had the same thoughts and emotions and reactions as any Basil in Headspace. Even with half of what made him him stripped away, until what the Dreamer deemed the most unsavoury parts of Basil remained and left him unrecognizable-- a stranger to corrupt in Black Space-- certain feelings remained the same.
Sentimentality towards the Dreamer, the desire to see him heal and forgive himself, the inability to stand by and watch him destroy himself over and over again. But more than anything, Basil hated being alone and abandoned. Especially not by Sunny. And to Stranger, the thought of that manifested in turmoil and a pit in his stomach. It was not mere misery, it was fear and stress . Just as something threw Headspace off its routine and shook the Dreamer with it... Stranger, too, was sent into a panic.
Though it could be said he was considerably less of a nervous wreck than Basil was, Stranger knew it was his final chance to save Sunny. His best friend.
...But he was not his best friend. Not anymore. That title had always belonged to the flower boy, and Stranger was no longer him. Yet even after four years, Stranger still felt the same longing and love he did when he was whole.
Still, four years had passed, and there were... unexpected developments. Though, ultimately, he and all in the Dream World were manifestations of the Dreamer himself, Stranger felt the will of another. Knowledge the Dreamer could not have acquired (and he truly had not, if Stranger peered into even the deeply forgotten parts of Black Space). Not quite memories- they were not clear enough for that, but feelings. Instincts.
Something was wrong with Grandma. The real Basil’s grandmother. She’d stopped breathing at some point in the night, and Polly called 911 to rush her to the hospital, leaving Basil home all alone with his late night demons. Grandma’s condition had been getting worse recently, but it was only now hitting him that she might not make it this time. And he’d be even more alone again. She’d leave him. Everyone was leaving him. Sunny had not come out of his house in years, his old friends long gone their separate ways, and soon Grandma would be joining Mari.
Stranger struggled to contain a sudden heaving sob. A loud, uncharacteristic one for someone normally so composed and measured. He knew not why he was so... affected by this knowledge outside his own realm of existence. Maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of wanting to join Mari too, just so he wouldn't be alone anymore.
--No. No. Those were Basil's thoughts, not his own. And if Stranger were reading the situation correctly, which he knew in his heart that he was feeling exactly what the flower boy was, then the Dreamer was not the only one whose last chance for redemption was expiring.
Maybe that was why through all of Stranger's bitterness and fear, he fought Sunny as hard as he did. Desperate, as if everything depended on it. Because as far as he knew, it did. He had already been trying so hard to guide the Dreamer to the truth to no avail. No matter how many times he knocked, the Dreamer refused to answer, ignoring and repressing as always. Sunny promised they'd face this together, but he left him all alone with not even the guilt to keep him company; Sunny took it all for himself, selfish as he'd been for four years.
In two more days, soon to be one, Sunny would move away but nothing was changing. It was over. Sunny wasn't getting better. He wasn't going to get better when he chose to bury the truth further instead of confronting it properly.
Hero needed him and Sunny locked himself away. Aubrey needed him and he locked himself away. Kel needed him and he locked himself away. Basil needed Sunny and Sunny locked himself away. ...Stranger needed Sunny and Sunny discarded him.
Seconds before the Dreamer's vessel arrived, Stranger was glad the corruption obscured his entire body in total shadow. He knew not how long it had been since he'd felt this much emotion, but he was convinced not even the flower boy ever experienced this multitude of tears streaming down his cheeks.
Maybe Basil should stop sending his thoughts into Sunny's dreams.