Chapter Text
Hob was manning the New Inn all on his own right now. It was early, so they only had cakes and sandwiches on the menu, and he managed them fine on his own. Most of the people were regular and didn't mind if they had to wait a few minutes until he came back from making a sandwich in the kitchen to top off their coffee.
Since he was the owner of the place, there was no one who could criticize him for taking things slow, especially now that he spent more time helping. He still gave private lessons for those who just needed a bit more patience than others. But only evening classes, so he could take the morning shift and enable his employees to either go to school or take care of their kids without worry. He loved working with kids, seeing their unique outlook in life, but there was also something interesting about manning the bar. The regulars were a mixed crowd with a lot of special people keeping things exciting.
Like Uma for instance, who proclaimed herself a witch and sold artifacts at the local market. Hob had to suppress a wince every time she said witch, reminding himself that in today's age, no one bat an eye at it anymore and there was no prosecution. In fact, when he saw her selling at the farmer’s market people were super friendly, asking about her crystals and charms. Hob didn't believe in it despite himself being immortal, but in his long life the only magical thing he had ever seen was his stranger haunting Lady Constantine with dark memories. He enjoyed Uma's soaps and hand oil, though. They made his skin super soft.
He smiled at her as she sat down at the bar and went over with a fresh pot of coffee and a mug.
“Morning Uma. On your way to the market?”
“Sure am. I have a good feeling about this one. It will go very well.”
“That is nice. Something special you're selling or your usual assortment?”
“Mhh, my spirit wolf told me there would be nightmares and to prepare, so I made dream catchers.”
“The round feathery things?”
“Yes. They let the pleasant dreams through, but nightmares get stuck in them and dissolve in the first light of the morning.”
“So it improves sleep?”
“Yes. Did you suffer from poor sleep lately and need one?”
“Actually, no, I haven't had a nightmare since... let me think. Must have been months.”
Hob bit his lips in concentration, but it had been a long time. Maybe since he had seen his stranger last? They had made up after their fight, and Hob couldn't wait for 2089 to see him again. Maybe then he would finally get a name.
“Then you must have been blessed. Still, I made so many. Take one, in case the bad dreams return.”
Hob took the offered item with thanks, marveling at the craftsmanship. It wasn't comparable to the usual sort you saw sold by street vendors or in Home Depot. He put it behind the bar and returned to his work when one of his regulars called for a refill. The rest of his shift was busy until his relief came and he was off for the afternoon. On his way out, he almost forgot his dream catcher, and would have left it behind if not for Sophia calling after him.
Once home, he placed it on the kitchen table while he took a quick shower and got changed before walking through his flat holding it here and there trying to find the best spot to put it. In the end, he settled for the window in his bedroom. He didn't have the chance to ask Uma where he should put it; he didn’t think it would work either way but he could at least set it up right.
He laid on his sofa for an hour relaxing and watching a game livestream on twitch before he took his bicycle to his evening class. It was already dark when he returned home afterwards, and he changed into shorts and an old shirt and went to bed after another look at his dream catcher.
Screeching interrupted his sleep. Hob sat in bed, heart beating rapidly, expecting an attack. Then he remembered that being robbed was rare, and even then the intruder wouldn’t announce their presence like this. No, now that he had calmed, Hob had another suspect in mind. Someone had been feeding the strays behind the New Inn lately, and they were prone to fighting over scraps of food.
He kept his eyes closed, desperately hanging on to the last drags of sleep and just listening to see if the sound would return. Because then he would have to get up and try to scare the cats off before things got ugly. If any of them had gotten hurt, it would be him that would end up at the vets with arms full of scratches and a displeased cat. Hob knew if he saw one of them limping nothing would stop him from catching them and making sure they were alright even if they hated him for it.
Which was a big reason he didn’t want them to be fed and hanging around the New Inn. He pretended to be strict and forbid his employees from feeding them, even if his heart literally melted whenever he saw them. Which made the fact that they seemed to hate him even worse. In his young years, animals had loved him, and he could vaguely remember sleeping cuddled up against the sheepdog. Their barn cats had always run up to him and demanded cuddles when he was passing by.
But then he had become immortal, and things had changed. He didn’t know if the animals could feel that he was different, that something was off about him, or if they could smell all the bad things he had done in his life and all the blood he had spilled. No matter the reasons, animals now ran from him or hissed and attacked. A small price to pay for eternal life, but it still saddened him, as he would love to give animals pets. Having cats outside, seeing them every day but unable to even get close without them running, was depressing.
Things stayed silent and Hob figured the cats had come to a decision regarding the food, and he turned onto his side, trying to return to sleep. He was almost slipping away when he heard rustling, silent as if whoever was doing it deliberately tried to stay unnoticed. And it was a lot closer than the backyard outside. He rolled off the bed with a smooth motion, flickering on the light, and gripped the baseball bat he had stashed under his bed. Maybe he was paranoid, but better to be safe than sorry.
To his surprise, the room was empty, no would-be burglar around, and when he went to the door and opened it, he also couldn’t hear anything in the rest of his apartment. He walked through the whole thing and checked the windows and door just to be sure, but he was alone and everything was in order.
Very weird. He was sure he hadn’t imagined things. Something strange was afoot.
He returned to his bedroom, looking around and stopping as he saw a dark shape caught in the dreamcatcher Uma had given him. Too big for an insect, perhaps a bird, but the window was closed, so there was no way for it to get in. Still, Hob couldn’t deny there was something caught in the net, holding perfectly still as if hoping Hob wouldn’t see it.
Baseball bat still in hand he leaned closer seeing… something? He couldn’t really say what it was. Maybe a fairy or pixie, if they even existed. But in a twisted and dark way.
It was humanoid… in a way. Small, maybe as big as a cola can, thin with long limbs, the arms nearly going to its knees, ribs clearly visible, white skin stretching unnaturally over it. But everything else besides the chest was covered in black fur. The head had a long snout, and its long ears were pressed back. The wings were leathery and completely tangled in the dreamcatcher's webbing.
He poked the thing with his bat carefully to check if it was even still alive and there was the screeching again and the mouth opened, jaw unhinging revealed razor-sharp teeth snapping at the bat, catching it, the wood splintering.
Hob stumbled back, dropping his bat in his fear and madly scrambled to regain it as protection, even if he didn’t know how useful it would be since the thing could just bite through it. But looking up it was still there in the dreamcatcher struggling but unable to tear itself free. Its teeth and claws were useless against the thin strings.
Then it hit Hob. The dreamcatcher was literally meant to catch dreams. At least the bad ones. And this thing was stuck in there unable to free himself, just howling and hissing in anger. Uma’s creation had worked, catching a nightmare which hunted Hob’s sleep. He shuddered, not wanting to imagine what would have happened if that thing had gotten him, with how scary it looked.
The next minutes ticked by, Hob’s heartbeat calming down as he reassured himself that the thing wouldn’t get free. He did not know how to get rid of it, but at least it couldn’t reach him. He would have to ask Uma tomorrow what he should do about it. Still, he couldn’t sleep in the same room as it, so he took his bedding and phone and moved to the living room, his back already protesting at the prospect of sleeping on the sofa. But that was much better than being close to the nightmare.
Not that he could sleep, his nerves were too tense. Despite having his bedroom door closed, he could still hear its angry screams, and he prayed the catcher would hold, and the thing wouldn’t go after his throat. Maybe he should go outside? But no, he refused to be driven out from his own home by a thing of that size.
What had Uma said about the dream catchers? Pleasant dreams went through, and bad ones got caught and dissolved in the sun or something? He looked at the clock. 3 am. Four more hours and the sun would rise and get rid of the problem. He could do this and then completely forget this ever happened. Easy.
At 4 am the screams hadn’t stopped, but they were quieter now as if the thing was running out of steam, but they also sounded sadder? No, don’t be stupid Hob, the thing wasn’t sad because it was caught in the net. It was just playing tricks trying to get his sympathy, but would bite his fingers off if he got too close. It was better to just leave it there. Hob quite liked his fingers attached and having them regrow was such a pain as it didn’t stop itching even weeks after they were back.
It was getting closer to 6 am, and Hob’s resolve was wavering. He hadn’t slept a single wink, and the sounds from the neighboring room had gotten very close to wailing. Not even pressing his cushion over his head was enough to keep the sounds out, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He got up and strode to his bedroom; the door hitting the wall as he kicked it open, full of nervous energy. The thing instantly froze in its attempts to free itself, shocked that someone was actually coming after the ruckus it had made.
On closer inspection, Hob could see the thing had made a mess of itself in its attempt to escape. Shredded fur laid on the ground, the pale skin of its chest was full of red robe burns, and one wing looked terribly twisted. And despite its sacrifices, all it had managed was to get even more tangled in the catcher.
Hob let out a deep sigh, steeled himself as he got closer to do something absolutely stupid. He had never forgotten his friend’s words centuries back about being hurt and captured, and he had tried his best to live by them. He was sure that didn’t apply to weird nightmare creatures trying to harm him, but still. Keeping it imprisoned here until it would die by the sun was just cruel.
“Okay listen up. I will free you, but you will not bite, claw or harm me in any other way, understood?” Was the thing even capable of the English language? It looked at Hob, ears twitching and muscles relaxing a bit. “Or I can just leave you here and let the sun do its job.”
At that, the thing screeched, returning to his struggling. So the thing could understand him.
“All Right, all right, settle down, I will get you out, just don’t move, or you will make it worse.”
The nightmare stopped moving. Hob wasn’t completely stupid or careless, no matter what people said, so he didn’t just reach for the nightmare. Instead, he slipped a screwdriver; he had gotten on his way to the bedroom from his pocket hoping that would survive longer than the bat and used it to press over the nightmare's neck and pin its head in place. It let out another loud scream at that, but Hob endured it and just got to work untangling the mess. It was slow progress as he, in his miserable wisdom, had forgotten to bring scissors. But couldn’t leave now because he would never get the nightmare pinned again. So he had no choice but to slowly untangle the mess, guiding limps through as carefully as he could. But there was not much he could do for the wing as the strings cut deep the fibers were colored black by what he assumed must be blood. He untangled it slowly, but the nightmare still flinched and opened its jaw to let out another scream.
Pain. Pain pain pain.
There was something in his head that was too big, and loud. Words but not really words, Hob knew the nightmare said it hurts as he was completely swept away by the presence filling him, taking over, his thoughts slipping away everything started getting gray at the edge.
As suddenly as it had come, it was gone, leaving Hob’s mind free of any intrusion. He blinked at his wall, realizing he was curled up on the floor, tears on his face and his head pondering. He looked up at the nightmare, who was quiet, almost guiltily, ears hanging, and now free wing held in his arms. It wasn't fully free, yet its chest still caught, and Hob wondered why it hadn’t waited for its attack. But then, it had only lashed out in great pain, and Hob was sure that had been words in his head. Had it tried to speak with him?
He should just get up and leave now. It had attacked him, and he had warned it about doing that. Plus, it was mostly free now, so he wouldn’t get it pinned again and would risk getting bitten or clawed. He had at least tried, he shouldn’t lose any more sleep over this. But… It looked so small and lost in there. So miserable. Just letting it hang there, so close to being free, seemed cruel.
He looked out of the window and saw the dawn already gradually approaching, realizing he must have withered on the floor longer than he had thought.
So he got up again, screwdriver in hand, seeing the nightmare flinch as he got close. Big scared eyes looked at him, and it struggled, dark drops welling out from underneath the strings on its chest, easily visible on the white skin.
“Hey, no, no, don’t do that, you are just hurting yourself and getting tangled up again. Just let me get you out, okay? Just a few more minutes and you will be free.”
The nightmare stopped its struggle and looked at Hob warily as he got closer with the screwdriver, slipping it underneath the strings to ease some tension of its chest. It didn't bite the metal, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t go for Hob’s soft flesh. So Hob talked to get out some of the nervous energy as his fingers got close.
“That must have hurt, right, buddy? Sorry about that, I tried, but you were already pretty banged up. But no worries, this part will hurt a lot less. At least, I hope it will. Just stay as you are and let me get you out, okay.”
He tugged at the frame of the catcher as ripping the string of there would be way easier than to get the nightmare out and to his surprise the nightmare didn’t move when Hob guided the loosened string out of the mess on its chest. The skin under his fingers was cold, and he wondered if the thing was freezing since it didn’t have fur to keep warm there.
A few more minutes and the last string fell, the nightmare finally free, and the creature tilted forward. But instead of turning to smoke and returning to wherever it had come from, it just tumbled to the ground. Hob reached out on instinct, catching it in his palm before it could crash to the hard floor.
He froze after, expecting sharp teeth to sink into his flesh any second now, but the nightmare just trembled in his hand. Too exhausted to even push itself up.
Hob was panicking because he didn’t think things through further than getting the thing out. He had beenfully expecting it to just run away and disappear, and didn’t know what to do now. Only that he could already see the sun creep up over the horizon and after all the hard work, having the nightmare die now seemed rather pointless, so he pressed the thing against his chest and ran to his storage closet, the only place that was truly dark even during the day as his curtains didn’t keep the light out fully. Here between the shelves of flour and cans of beans, no natural light reached, and he hoped Uma had been literal about the sun and didn’t mean the time.
But a minute passed and then another one, and the nightmare was still trembling in his hand and hadn't turned to dust. He patted the wall with his free hand until he found the switch blinking at the electric light and holding out his hand. There it lay, weak and shivering, but Hob was sure if it wanted, it could still bite or use its powers to turn Hob’s headache into an inferno until his brain melted. But it didn’t. It just looked miserable, and Hob’s heart broke.
He opened a pack of rags and placed the nightmare on them as it was the softest thing he could find before leaving the room, making sure the sun didn’t get in. A quick call to let everyone know he was sick as he couldn’t go to work after the ordeal of the night. Then he collected some supplies and returned to the storage closet.
The nightmare was still where Hob had left it, and when he got closer, he could see its chest was still moving even if it had closed its eyes.
“Hey there. You don’t look so hot, how about we fix you up a bit?”
Hob held up the first aid kit, and it didn’t protest when Hob cut the bandages in small strips and got close. It hissed as Hob rubbed some disinfectant on the wounds with a Q-Tip, but he didn’t know if a nightmare’s wounds could get infected. Hob used the other end of the Q-Tip to apply some ointment and then bandaged the nightmare up. In the end, the nightmare was covered in bandages and the only thing left was the wing. Hob knew he would have to stretch it out, push the fragile bones back in place and make a brace to immobilize it until it was healed, but he was scared. It would hurt, and even if the nightmare didn’t mean to, it could hurt Hob when it lashed out in pain.
His struggle was ended by the nightmare carefully holding out its wings, shoulders drawn up but putting on a brave face. Hob couldn’t help but coo at that. It was just so adorable.
“Oh, aren’t you a brave one? So strong, letting me take care of your wing. I will try to make it quick and afterward you will get a cookie as a reward, I promise.”
He held the wing, brushing the tips of his fingers over it, feeling for the bone and biting his lip he pulled until it was stretched out. The nightmare let out such a pained wail, Hob’s heart broke, and he tried to shush it, softly petting its side to give comfort. When the wails had turned into soft sniffing, he spoke again.
“I’m sorry I know it hurts. Can you be brave again? I need to put the bone back into place and wrap it. Can you do that for me? Be a brave little boy? Or girl?”
It looked at Hob and Hob could see the fur around his eyes was wet from tears, and he couldn’t help but rub it away, the nightmare leaning into the touch.
“It will be okay.”
Setting the bone was not any less painful than stretching out the wing and the nightmare wailed through the whole progress, chest heaving after.
“You were so good. Such a good little nightmare, so brave for me,” Hob petted a finger over its side, calming it as best as he could.
“Would you like something to drink now?”
It looked at Hob, ears going forward, and Hob smiled as he screwed the cap off a bottle, filling some of the water in and giving it to the nightmare. It drank greedily, and Hob had to refill the cap twice before it was finally pushed away. Next he got out the promised cookie, breaking it in small pieces he could hand the nightmare who ate half until it slowly dropped, eyes falling closed.
Hob carefully scooped it up, transferring it from the rags to a small shoe carton with a cushion in it, pulling a handkerchief over the nightmare as it fell asleep. He placed the carton on a shelf and stood beside it, unable to take his eyes from the sleeping form. Now that the horror of the night was over, the thing was kinda adorable in a weird way. Like spiders.
But at some point his stomach made itself noticeable, and his bladder protested, so he gave up watching the sleeping form and took care of his own needs. Once he returned to his bedroom, he took down the dreamcatcher, looking at its damaged state. He didn’t know if he wanted it fixed after last night, so he just put it in a drawer for now as he fell into bed to catch up on sleep. In the evening he made himself food and watched the sun go down, returning to the storage room to collect the shoebox, expecting the nightmare to be gone now that the day was over. But it was still there, sitting in the box and holding out the bottle cap in clear demand towards Hob. Hob was too shocked to do anything else besides filling the thing and watching the nightmare drink greedily, fearing he had been a poor host and letting his guest go thirsty.
“I’m sorry, my dear, I should have checked on you sooner. How are you feeling? Any better?”
It didn’t answer and just looked at Hob, who was smiling down on it. When nothing happened, he reached forward, not touching but just giving the nightmare a chance to get close as slowly as it wanted. He had seen people do it with cats, not that the trick had ever worked for him. But the nightmare was brave and got up, staggering closer on unsure feet and catching himself on Hob’s hand when he stumbled. He noticed the nightmare was standing at the back of his hand, the safer option compared to the palm that could close any time, but still it had come to Hob and was inspecting his fingers. Such a brave little nightmare.
Hob despite better judgment stretched his index finger until it was touching the nightmare, and the thing leant in, rubbing his head against the skin like a cat.
“Aww, aren’t you adorable? Such a cute little nightmare being all sweet on me.”
It froze, stepping back, and Hob sighed in disappointment. Finally, he had the chance to touch fur, and he had messed up by being too noisy about it, if he had just held his tongue perhaps he would have been able to scratch those ears. The nightmare looked up at Hob with suspicion before slowly stepping closer again, its claws going around Hob’s finger, just holding it. Hob let out a high cooing sound, unable to help himself, wishing he had brought his phone to take a photo.
The nightmare tilted his head in confusion and Hob, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, “aren’t you adorable. I just want to snatch you up and cuddle you, wanna give you kisses and wrap you in soft blankets while feeding you sweets.”
Only after the words had left his mouth did he realize that this was not an animal, no matter how cute it was, but a nightmare who could understand him. Who would probably be offended at Hob’s words. But the thing just kept looking up at Hob and then slowly oh so slowly lifted his arms in the ultimate pick me up gesture.
Hob’s heart melted, and he lifted the nightmare in his hands pressing it to his chest, his finger scratching through the fur until he heard a growl reminding him of an engine with start trouble, but when he stopped, there was an angry hiss. So he continued until the growl settled into a purr.
“Aww baby, did you have trouble purring? Did no one pet you? Were they mean to you, my sweet darling. How could they do that? You are such a sweet and brave little nightmare, you deserve all the cuddles. My cute little baby.”
Hob’s fingers never rested while he spoke, and the nightmare lost its edge, slowly turning into a purring puddle in Hob’s hand. It melted Hob’s heart, and he didn’t know how he could have ever been scared of the nightmare or even think about leaving it in the catcher to dissolve in the sun. Not when it was so clearly starved for affection.
“Are you hungry, my sweet thing? Should I get you something to eat?”
Its ears flickered in interest and Hob smiled, leaving the room with the nightmare in his hand, and walked to the fridge.
“I know you eat cookies, but what else do you eat?” He used his free hand to sort through his ingredients and listened to the nightmares' sounds. “I have some fruit I could cut? No, not a fan of fruit? Figure with the teeth. Maybe some meat? I have some chicken I could throw in the pan for you?” An interesting chirp and Hob got the chicken out with a smile.
“Anything else you want me to grab? Cheese? Milk? Juice? Oh, you like that.”
The apple juice was set next to the chicken and laid his hand on the counter, letting the nightmare get off and walk over the countertop curiously. The way he inspected his spice rag was just adorable, even though he would refrain from using much of them to not upset the small stomach. He got another bottle cap since he had forgotten the first in the storage room and filled it with juice, the nightmare drinking it down with a hum, some of it spilling. Hob chuckled and used some kitchen paper to dab it off the nightmare's face, while his small charge complained.
Then he got to sear the chicken in a pan, putting it on a plate and cutting it into small pieces. The nightmare had sharp teeth, but it would be easier if it was precise. The smell filled the kitchen, and the nightmare made grabby hands.
“Not yet, you will burn yourself, darling. "Be patient."
The complaining stopped when Hob scratched the fur on its head until he finally deemed the chicken cool enough for his nightmare. He sat the plate down, thinking. But no fork would be small enough for the nightmare. He got a toothpick, but the nightmare had already stepped on the plate and was kneeling next to the meat, eating it with his hands.
Hob grabbed his phone he had discarded on the kitchen island early and snapped a photo. At the sound, the nightmare's head swung in his direction, and the thing looked accusingly.
“Sorry, you are just so cute, I couldn’t help but take a picture of my sweet little nightmare.”
The nightmare settled again at that and continued eating. Hob was so gone for it, already calling it his and wanting to keep it forever. A bad habit of his getting attached too easily and loving too fierce, unwilling to see the other party go. He already feared the moment the nightmare was healed and would leave him. He wanted to stop it from doing so, to keep it here where it would be protected and Hob could take care of it. But he knew, despite how much he longed for that, he wouldn’t go through with it. He could never imprison someone he loved. If the nightmare wanted to leave, Hob would have no choice but let it go, no matter how much it pained him. He could just hold on to the tender memories he made. And the photos. He snapped another picture of the nightmare, face smeared with chicken juice.
Once all the chicken was gone, Hob tried to clean up the nightmare with a wet towel, but it was a lost cause as the thing had made a total mess of himself.
“Aren’t you a messy eatter? Such an enormous appetite. With that, you will be healed in no time at all. Let's switch those bandages since they are dirty, and I can check how things are underneath, alright?”
The nightmare looked at him warily but nodded.
Unfortunately, pealing the bandages off without hurting the nightmare was a lot harder than expected. Blood had glued the bandages to its fur. A wet towel helped, but it also soaked the nightmare, making its fur wet. He really would have liked to avoid a bath since the thing was kinda like a cat, and they hated bathing, at least if you trusted the internet on that? Hob had seen one jump into a puddle just to avoid being touched by Hob, so he wasn’t so sure.
“Can I give you a bath? I will be careful?”
To his surprise instead of apprehension, the nightmare nodded with enthusiasm and Hob smiled as he scooped it back up, carrying it to the bathroom. The sink was filled, to where it would reach the nightmare’s chest when sitting, and Hob checked the water temperature before placing it in it. To his surprise, the nightmare shuddered at the warm water, but before Hob could pull it out and adjust the temperature, it started splashing in delight. Hob smiled brightly, just watching and taking the occasional photo, while the nightmare played. Way too soon it ran out of energy, still weak from its wounds, and it sunk deeper into the water, Hob quickly reaching out and held it up. It snuggled into his hand, purring a bit. Hob carefully took off the soaked bandages, making sure to not place any pressure on the skin underneath.
“Can I help you clean up? Wash your fur to make sure all the dried blood is gone?”
This drew some contemplation from the nightmare, but in the end it snuggled deeper against Hob’s finger, trusting him and Hob had to blink away tears of joy as he got out a drop of soap and started going over its body until the foam was white. The limbs between his fingers were so fragile he could easily snap them if he wanted, but the nightmare didn’t look worried at all. Once it was cleaned and swaddled into a soft towel, Hob couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to its head.
Once it was dry, he sat it on the sink and looked it over, noticing to his delight that the rope burns were a lot less prominent and there was no fresh blood as the wounds had closed. He had been afraid human medicine wouldn’t be able to help. But now he smeared an extra portion of ointment on before re-bandaging the wounds. He carefully prodded at the wing, making sure everything was still in place and that the splint was doing its job.
At this point the nightmare was falling asleep where it sat and Hob lifted it up, and entered the storage room again, setting it back in the shoebox. But it looked so lonely and small in there. He went back outside and got his armchair, dragging it in. Sitting down, he put the nightmare on his chest and closed his eyes to catch some sleep.
~*~
Happy chirps woke him, and he groaned at the kink in his neck. Totally worth it for the way the nightmare happily crawled over his lap, playing with some dust. He really should clean this place. Noticing he was awake, the nightmare’s head snapped towards him and it let out loud chirping sounds, arm reaching up and intact wing flapping as it jumped. Hob chuckled and lifted it up, surprised when it rubbed against his face with delight and he even could feel a wet tongue lick his cheek.
“What has you in such a good mood today, my sweet little nightmare?”
His words only made the nightmare purr as it tried to get even closer to Hob, scrambling and pulling at Hob’s hair. It was freaking adorable, and he turned his face pressing kisses to its head making it giggle before it sloppily pressed its snout against Hob’s skin to copy him.
Yes, Hob had decided he would kill for this little bugger, not die because there was so much still to see and dying and leaving the other party behind would defeat the purpose of wanting to protect them. But he would kill whoever dared to harm it.
“My dear, my sweet little baby. You are just the cutest nightmare there is. So beautiful. I could just keep you forever, pampering you until you get fat from all the food and sick of my attention. Make sure you would want for nothing.”
Hob bit his lips as soon as the words had left it. Thinking it and speaking it out loud were two different things, and he feared he had scared the nightmare off. He sat it on his lap and gave it some space, hoping that this would at least stop it from running off in fear before its wounds were completely healed.
More than one of his past relationship had been broken because he had been ‘too much’. Sometimes it had been something he had said that others found creepy, and despite him laughing it off, the other party started pulling back. Sometimes it was his actions, the way he took care of people and wanted to make sure they were okay, that was smothering them. Some even called him possessive and a fucking freak before walking out on him. The main reason his relationships never lasted was he just couldn’t do things by half. When he loved, it was deep, and he devoted himself to the other fully. He could try to learn from his mistakes to do better but just like right now at some point his true nature just slipped out.
There was a questioning sound from his lap and he looked down at his, no, the nightmare, with its head tilted in confusion. It reached out towards Hob, making demanding noises. Hob reached out his fingers, instantly caught in the nightmare's arm as it just cuddled closer to them purring and rubbing himself against them.
Was it not afraid of Hob now? It understood him, that Hob was sure of, so why wasn’t it running from him but wanted to be close?
A nibbling on his fingers and the nightmare rubbed his middle.
“You’re hungry, little one?”
Agreeing chirping.
“Okay, I will get you something, sun's still up so you wait here until I’m back, alright.”
Ouch, that had not been nibbling but a proper bite, and the nightmare hissed at him, clearly offended. Still it clung to his fingers and despite the pain Hob didn’t dare pull his fingers back in fear of adding scratches to them.
“I know, I also don’t wanna let you go but it is dangerous and I don’t want something to happen to you. So stay here and be a good boy until I’m back?”
The angry hissing grew quiet and Hob thought he had won the argument, the nightmare seeing the logic behind it and it would wait until Hob got something from the kitchen. But instantly it started wailing, tears soaking its face again and arms stretched out towards Hob, who instantly swept it into his arm and pressed it against his chest.
“No, baby don’t cry, it is alright. It is okay. I won’t leave you for as long as you want this old man to stay with you. Please don’t cry, my sweet little nightmare. Hob is here. I will protect you.”
Soon enough the sobs stopped, even if the nightmare was still clinging to him and sniffing occasionally just to remind him what would happen if Hob sat it down. Hob was fine with it, loving to hold the nightmare against his chest and feeling its breath under his fingers. He was just afraid the poor thing would starve. They had water, but Hob wanted to feed it something warm and homely. Also, he could feel his bladder getting heavy and he feared he would have to pee into an empty bottle if he had to stay in the room all day until nightfall. He would do it if that meant his baby was feeling better and not crying, but the poor thing was exhausted and Hob heard its stomach grumble, the sound very different from the other animalistic noises the thing usually let out.
He found a pack of stale crackers, but the little nightmare just sniffed at them turned his head away, pressing it into Hob’s shirt, unwilling to eat. Hob was getting really worried by this, as the nightmare just became more and more lackluster as time passed.
“Please, you need to eat something. If I can’t get out to get you something, then at least choose something in here. Be a brave boy for me, alright? I hate seeing you weak like this.”
Tiny claws dug deeper into his shirt, but careful not to nick the skin underneath. It broke Hob’s heart that the thing clearly expected to be left behind, and he wished he could ease its worry but he didn’t know what. If only he had invested in proper black-out curtains and not been cheap about it because sunlight didn’t bother him. Then he could have taken the little nightmare with him.
“I really wish I could take you out with me, I do. But there is sun outside, even with the curtains.”
It tilted its head in confusion until it suddenly realized something and it hauled itself up, until it reached Hob’s collar and wiggled inside Hob’s shirt. Hob quickly pressing his hands at it from the outside so it didn’t fall out at the bottom.
“Little nightmare?” A content hum muffled by the fabric, “You wanna stay in there? I see it is cozy and dark in- oh fuck. Oh no, I shouldn’t swear in front of you. What if you pick up bad habits. No matter what don’t repeat it.”
How could he have been so stupid? The nightmare was weak against sunlight, but inside his shirt it couldn’t reach. All the tears and all it took was for Hob to keep it somewhere dark to bring him. He felt terrible for having the little one go through all the anguish. But he was not good with the whole supernatural thing, how was he supposed to know that fabric would be enough to keep the nightmare safe.
“Okay, let's go to the bathroom and then get some food, alright, little one. You just stay hidden in there and let me know if something happens? Yeah.”
It purred rubbing against Hob’s bare chest, and Hob shuddered felling it so close. He was absolutely sleeping without a shirt tonight just to feel the wonderful fur against his skin.
He carefully opened the door and inched outside the dim light coming through the curtains, but the purring didn’t stop and he braved the rest of the apartment. Despite his words, the first stop was into his bedroom where he got a pullover he put on as extra protection against the sunlight, quite a task with only one hand but he managed. It also gave him the ability to knot the shirt around his waist underneath the pullover, making a makeshift sling for the nightmare to lie in, so Hob had both hands free. After a quick bathroom break that he needed desperately, it was finally time to get his baby some food. Inspecting the contents of his fridge, he went with some more chicken, but this time making some tomato soup to put it in. Once he had a plate for himself, a small container for the nightmare and a bunch of wet wipes, he returned to the storage room to eat.
The smell dragged the nightmare out of its nest easily enough and it dug into its food with vigor. Hob couldn’t help smile about the mess it made while it ate, and took great delight cleaning it up after. When it was time to take the plates to the sink, he just plopped the nightmare back into the makeshift sling and felt it fall asleep soon after. He went about his day cleaning and doing laundry, always aware of the little breathing being against his stomach. He loved it, absolutely adored having it trust him enough to sleep. Hob would have to look into a real more secure way to transport the nightmare and then they might even go outside together when Hob’s sick leave was up and he had to return to work.
He used his laptop to look up tutorials on how to make baby slings out of scarfs and got decent at it, feeling confident he could ensure his nightmare wouldn’t fall out.
For dinner, he made himself some vegetable stew craving something spicy. As he had run out of chicken, he got out some ham for his nightmare, knowing he would have to go out shopping tomorrow if he wanted fresh meat for his darling. He rosed the nightmare with soft touches and words and kissed its head as he lifted it out from under his shirt andsetting it on the table to eat. When checking him over, Hob was pleased to see most wounds gone already and only his chest and the wing needing re-wrapping, the rest already fading scars. They spent until 1 am on the sofa watching movies. Or rather the TV was playing and Hob was occupied playing with the nightmare's fur, amazed how soft it was, and finally understanding everyone going crazy over their cats and dogs. If that was what if felt like having them to cuddle with, they must be amazing.
But his eyes started dropping as he got tired and he got up yawning.
“Wanna sleep in bed with me tonight?” Hob asked and received excited chirping in response. He brushed his teeth and put his shirt in the wash bin before getting under the covers and pulling the nightmare close to his chest. He slept easily knowing the thick duvet would keep his darling safe.
~*~
Way too early his alarm sounded, waking him for a day of work and he moaned, annoyed he had to get up. A grumble against his chest and small pinpricks of claws froze him and lifted the covers, seeing his nightmare blinking up at him sleepily. His fingers wandered over its back, his day suddenly a lot better.
“Hello my dear,” his voice was rough from sleep and the nightmare rumbled in return. “I would love to stay and cuddle you all day, but I have to go to work and buy some food for you.”
The distressed wail was to be expected, and Hob curled around the nightmare, hushing it.
“No, no, don’t cry, it is alright. I won’t leave you. If you promise me to be a good boy and behave I will take you with me okay? Can you be my sweet little baby?”
Wide eyes and the nightmare jerked upwards going for Hob’s face, licking over it in excitement, making Hob let out a bubbling laugh. “Yeah, you like that? Me too. I wouldn’t feel right knowing you were at home all alone. Would have me worried all day. And we can’t have that. No, you are too much of a sweet little nightmare to make me worry like this.”
Hob looked at the clock to make sure he still had an hour before the sun came up. Enough time to get ready.
“I need a shower if I wanna lock presentable today. Do you want to do that with me, sit on the sink or rest here a bit more until I’m done?” Hob counted the options on his fingers and was delighted when the nightmare poked the first finger he raised. “You wanna shower with me?” A happy chirp. Despite the nightmare not being able to speak without causing Hob pain, it still founds ways to communicate with Hob, which reassured him greatly. He loved knowing he was doing things his nightmare liked, and he didn’t force it.
He entered the bathroom, shrugging off his sweatpants and underwear and going under the shower. Cleaning up took a lot longer than usual, since the warm water made his nightmare chirp in delight and he tried to catch the droplets. With a towel around his hips and the nightmare in its own towel against his chest, he stood before his closet.
“So you have options since I guess everything is alright as long as you are not touched by sunlight. I could wear a messenger bag and make you a little nest in it, it would be very comfy and you wouldn’t be too bothered by my moving around, carrying things and doing my work. Or I could wear something huge and loose and have you in a sling underneath but then you would have to be very still and quiet so no one notices alright? Can’t have anyone getting suspicious.”
The nightmare instantly wiggled out of the towel and tried to wiggle closer without scratching Hob.
“Okay, okay. Sling it is, I’ve got you.”
He set the nightmare on his bed and got his underwear and pants on before getting his thinnest and softest scarf and making a sling. He sat the nightmare in it and it wiggled until it was pressed against his bare skin.
“Since I don’t really have food anymore we will get something on the way, alright?”
A purr and Hob put a big pullover on. The good thing about owning the place you worked at was that no one could tell you what was appropriate workwear. He crooned as he left the apartment getting a breakfast burrito and some chicken filet and ate in his car, careful to not let any sun touch his nightmare as he gave it the chicken. Once they were both fed, he continued to the market, picking up fresh ingredients for the New Inn, carrying the heavy stuff on his hips so as not to crush the nightmare on his chest. He had to make a few more trips to the car than usual, but it was absolutely worth it for the soft vibrations he could feel against his chest.
During the car ride, he caught himself petting over the bump in his clothes, unconsciously.
Once everything was inside and the New Inn was opened, a few of the regulars commented on his clothing choice. He just said since he had just recovered from being sick he was craving something comfortable today and asked if he still looked as dashing as ever, making the people laugh. He was feeling great about himself, sure no one would even notice when Uma entered. She walked over to the counter and frowned at him.
“Hob. Are you alright?”
“Sure? I mean, I was sick but I’m all better now, why?”
He smiled brightly, hoping she would just drop the subject, but no such luck.
“There is a dark shadow clinging to you. I can clearly see it. It is spreading over you.” Hob was pleased by the words. He wasn’t the only one being possessive, but the nightmare was laying claim on him and he loved it.
“I will get rid of it for you.”
“NO!”
His hand went to the sling, and he turned away protectively, heart beating fast, afraid she would hurt his precious cargo. The bundle under his finger picked up on his distress and shook in fear. No, he would protect this small wonder and if he had to give up this life and move on, he would do it.
“Oh, I see. You don’t want it gone. I will not take it from you without your permission but be warned Hob, being tangled up with the dark is dangerous. It may not seem dangerous but it easily leads to ruin and death. Even if it doesn’t, others will follow, seeing your weakness and will take advantage.”
Lucky for him, he didn’t fear death, and not much else after his long life. No, he would be fine.
“Appreciate it Uma, but we will be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Alright. My offer still stands if you change your mind. For now, I would very much like a coffee for my way to free tortured souls less foolish than you.”
He relaxed, bringing her the coffee in a to-go cup. Not the paper ones, but a robust multi-use one, knowing it would find its way back to him soon enough. Everything was fine. She may not understand but she was a woman of honor. If she said she wouldn’t take his little one without his permission, then she wouldn’t. That was just a fact. Still, he couldn’t help feeling nervous the rest of his shift and checking the door for someone else to come through and demand he hand over his nightmare. Only when he was back home and in the closet, groceries carelessly dropped on the floor, did he relax.
The nightmare crawled out of his sling and nosed at his chin, licking away the tears he hadn’t noticed.
“Sorry little one. I got scared. Thought I would lose you. Gave me quite the freight. But it is alright now. You and I will stay together, alright? I will make sure of it.”
A grateful purr as it pressed close and let Hob press kisses to its fur before it wiggled out of his hold and went to inspect the bags sniffing.
“Are you hungry? Want me to cook something up? I brought beef. A good steak sounds nice.”
~*~
Hob pulled off the splint, holding his breath as the nightmare moved its wings. No pained scream. It looked at Hob in wonder as it flapped the wig. The nightmare jumped intending to fly, but the wing still not fully recovered and it fell. Hob quickly caughtit and set it back down safely.
“Easy darling. Don’t want you to get hurt again. How about taking things slow, okay?”
It grumbled but let Hob hold his hands under it as it tried to fly, ready to catch it if needed. And after a few failed attempts it stayed in the air all on its own, Hob laughing in joy.
“Look at you, all grown up now, flying.”
His nightmares used his newfound ability to fly up to Hob’s face and press a kiss to his nose before flying off to explore the rest of the apartment. Hob couldn’t be happier to see there was no lasting damage from his nightmare's encounter with the dream catcher.
Life was good. Hob enjoyed himself more than he had in years, having someone to share his life with and from whom Hob didn’t have to hide from or pretend. A nightmare would be the last to judge him.
But not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Ever since his injuries had healed and the last bandage had fallen, the nightmare had gotten restless, running around the apartment at night, wing flapping restlessly. Or Hob would catch it sitting at the window looking out with a melancholic look on its face.
It saddened Hob to see his darling slowly going stir-crazy, but all his attempts to cheer it up by bringing it outside and showing him new things failed. This was not about the apartment, at least not as far as Hob could say . Maybe it was about where he had come from? Could it be homesickness? But it had also been nothing but the sweetest little thing since coming into Hob’s life. Perhaps a nightmare must hunt people's dreams since it was their job or they would become unhappy? Whatever it was, Hob couldn’t watch anymore. So he swallowed down his tears and went to his nightmare, scooping it up in his arms and just holding it close, kissing it and breathing in its scent, committing it to memory ignoring its confused chirping.
Then he opened the window and set it on the sill, smiling down at it sadly.
“Off you go, my sweeting.”
It looked so lost, and Hob couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.
“Please don’t make this any harder on both of us. Go. You can’t stay here, no matter how much we both wish it. It is making you sad, there is something out there and as long as you don’t go back you will never find peace. I… I will be fine, I promise.” More tears as he sank to his knees, resting his head against his nightmare.
“I will miss you. I will miss you so fucking much. I will think about you for the rest of my life, but I could never keep you here if it isn’t good for you. I love you. So I need you to leave and be happy. Okay? Please, whatever it is you need to do, don’t be afraid. Be my brave little boy and do it, yes?”
It leaned forward, kissing away the tears on Hob’s face, then it pressed its forehead against Hob’s saying goodbye in its own way. Hob watched after it as it stepped back, wings flapping, and it flew away. Long after it had disappeared, he sat there, the frosty night air chilling him.
He was alone. The dream was over.