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This dream was a frequent inhabitor of Finn's mind. Especially during his week trapped in that dusty, filthy basement he wished so deeply to forget.
The dream was nothing special; a recount of a night with Robin before either one of them had even begun to worry about the grabber. He'd open his eyes to see Robin working on math homework. Robin would tease Finn for falling asleep and Finn would laugh and brush Robin off. Robin never had any idea of the horrors that ensued soon after. Finn however, rarely forgot his memories when he slept
The first few times he'd had the dream, he'd rushed onto Robin's arms the moment he could so much as sense his presence. Robin would every time fall back against Finn's mattress below them and give a sporadic attempt at calming a sobbing, near inconsolable Finn. It would never work. Finn would either cry or silently cling to Robin until the dream eventually faded. It always faded, no matter how desperately he held onto robin.
Later, a few months after Finn's escape, he'd be able to face Robin without breaking down. Sometimes they'd walk over to Robin's house and watch movies together on his PVR. Sometimes they'd lay on Finn's bed and just talk. Finn would catch Robin up on everything that has happened since he died, Robin would laugh and pretend to understand what he was talking about. It didn't matter. Robin's laugh killed finn regardless of if it was understood
Still, sometimes, on rare occasions, finn would allow the real events of that evening to unfold.
Him and Robin would go down to the creek near Finn's house. Robin would jump in and attempt to grab small fish, Finn would sit in a tree above him and watch. Cheek pressed up against the branch as he laughed at robin slipping and falling. Again and again. Every time he saw Robin like that, he noticed something new. The scars littering his back and shoulders, the way his hair curled a bit when it got wet, the way Robin smiled at him that Finn had never really stopped to think about. He knew that in the moment it happened, it made his stomach go wonky and his face flush more than he'd ever admit. In the mind of a year older, much lonelier finn it drove him crazy.
However, regardless of the way the dream unfolded, it always ended in the same vein. Finn, head on Robin's shoulder, coming to the sick realization that this was the last time he ever touched Robin, and Robin had no idea. No idea that a week from that night, he would be taken. He would die, alone and cold in the dingy basement of a cruel man.
But tonight, Robin is shining under the sun of late fall, his best friend leaning on his side.
He has no idea.
Finn is terrified.