Work Text:
Player sat on a bench, their face wet with tears.
“Leave me alone.” They sniffle, their poor hands shaking like they were freezing. A person standing over them, concrete skin and a red question mark for its head— the nightmare, or so they’ve named it.
The nightmare sat next to them. “Do not be afraid.”
“….just—shut up! I want to get away!! I want to leave!! I-“
The nightmare holds their hand, its hand feeling like sanded concrete, heavy, yet warm. Like it sat out in the sun for hours. “Do not be afraid.” It repeats. “This is your dream.”
“…” they sniffled, just holding its hand. They then imagined it as something less scary. It didn’t change much, though. Just a gray sweater
“How cozy.” It notes monotonously.
“…you’re not so scary now.”
“…how so?”
“I made your voice clearer. A-and the sweater… makes you look more…”
“Human?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“…you are truly alone, aren’t you. Making a friend out of your own nightmare? Pathetic.”
“…yeah. I know.”
There was a silence. The air was cold, smelled like metal.
“If you wake. Promise me to talk to someone. *anyone*.” It tells them
“…I…why do you care?”
“…I’d rather not say. Please take care of yourself. You are already fevered.”
Player didn’t say anything, just put their hand to their forehead. “Is it…because of the pills..?”
The nightmare glanced back at them. They both knew the answer, for they were one and the same. Their health had declined long before the pills arrived.
It was the cause of their intense shaking, the reason why they lost their job. It was why their head surged with pain and how everything was too much. Their body was frail now.
A word still not said between the dreamer and their nightmare. Players eyes wide as they stared ahead, their dream warping around them, their hands feeling the little drops of tears that fell from their eyes.
The nightmare looked away, feeling a pit in its own chest.
“I…” they choked out, each word a struggle in its own. “I wanna go home.”
Silence again. It was oppressive. But at the same time, needed. To sit with yourself, your own thoughts, to be alone…it wasn’t so bad.
“…I want to go home.” The nightmare repeats. “I want to go home.”
“To a place where people aren’t mean…” they continue
“To a place where I am seen.” It said
“You understand, don’t you?”
“Why I care for you.” It looked at them, “rest, for this is my paradise to you.”
They close their eyes, leaning on the entity they called a nightmare. For now, they could relax and be held by someone who felt even a little real.