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It had been a cloudy evening in Ccino's world. She was tidying up the cafe, feeding the cats... all the norm. She enjoyed her job, despite working alone most of the time.
At times, she had visitors and volunteers. Some of them were teenagers getting their community service hours, and others were multi-stellar travelers from other dimensions. Regardless of who came by, she always welcomed them into her Cat Cafe with open arms.
This time, however, Dream stopped by in her kitchen, hooded and wounded on the ground.
It wasn't irregular for Dream to come to the cafe with an injury. Often, it was where they came to heal up before heading back into battle.
With that, Ccino walks into the kitchen and attempts to look at what needs treatment. "Dream?"
Upon turning the usually positivity-filled skeleton, she found that they had been severely wounded. Many of their bones had broken, and blood stained their clothing. Their chest was glowing, radiating a yellow light. That certainly wasn't good.
"Oh, dear, Dream! Hold on, I'll find the first aid kit..." Ccino cried, getting up and away from Dream, now searching her cabinets. "What happened to you? Nightmare usually doesn't-"
"It was... an ambush..." Dream said weakly, "Killer... Dust... all of 'em..."
"I see," Ccino pulls out her emergency kit and begins to clean the damped blood on Dream's clothing. "How did it happen? Were you just... taking a stroll or something?"
"You know I... can't do that..." Dream replies. "Too much... to do..."
Ccino hums thoughtfully. "That's right... I'm sorry."
"No need," Dream looks away from her.
After helping all she could, Ccino helps Dream up from the floor and offers them tea. The two sat at a table mostly in silence, cats purring at both of their heels.
"You're quiet today," she comments. "Obviously, given the circumstances, but are you going back?"
"No. I don't really want to," Dream sips his tea, putting it down on the table. He was still bandaged, and his SOUL had stopped glowing in his ribcage. There was a crack on the right side of his skull, covered by his hood.
"What's with the hood?" Ccino asks. She didn't mean to sound rude, but it seems Dream may have taken it as such.
"Is there a problem with it?" Dream snaps and tugs on it, pulling it down further.
Ccino didn't expect this from somebody like them. "I didn't mean to hit a sensitive spot. I'm sorry," she apologizes.
Dream takes a breath, sighing. "It's fine. I've just got a lot going on right now."
Ccino makes a quick observation of Dream. They looked extremely tired, and it was sleep exhaustion, not from the fight they had just gotten themself out of. She had recognized this kind of depleted demeanor, both from her own experience and from other people.
"Dream, I-" She hesitates, frowning. "...Come on, talk to me. You look-"
"Bad, I know. I get that a lot nowadays," they said coldly, sipping his tea.
Ccino glares sympathetically at Dream. "Do you want to feed the cats, at least? I think it'll help."
"I... well..." Dream brings the cup back down, wiping his sockets. "I just- don't want to do that right now..."
"But you love feeding my cats!-"
"Ccino, please try to understand..." they cry, almost desperately. They place the cup on the table and stand up to stretch. Their bones popped as they did this, although Ccino could have sworn she heard a crack.
She stared in pity at Dream. "You're acting differently-"
"So?!"
Dream snapped at her then gasped, holding a hand over his mouth. Ccino still kept a glare, though now it was more shocked than anything.
"...Dream." She approaches them but leaves them some space. "You need to talk to somebody. Please."
Dream looked to the ground, beginning to tear up. "...I'm sorry."
The next thing she saw was Dream's teleportation magic spiraling, shortly after stopping completely. She was alone once again.
...What was up with them?
.
..
...
Dream resurfaces in an older, more abandoned AU. They look around, bewildered at what they have just done. They yelled at Ccino. They were so... rude. To someone who was only trying to help.
And that was their last friend.
They cry, falling to the floor miserably. All they do is mess things up. She's going to end up dead, and it'll all be their fault. They're so... unfathomably pathetic.
They look around. They've landed in a house, in the kitchen. The place smelled putrid, but they were in no position to care. They stand weakly, glaring at the dust-filled countertops and sensing the area that reeked of death. This place definitely underwent genocide, and here they were, in the place, ruining the peace of the deceased.
The aura around sent them searching. Maybe they could join. Maybe. It would pay off for them entering this universe.
They found a rusting dagger on the tabletop. It was long and incredibly pointed despite its age. They sigh shakily, sniffing. This would be good for the multiverse. There's no point in being here if all they did was take up space and do a job they didn't even know how to do properly, according to millions.
They turned it over, blade facing their SOUL. Their SOUL was glowing again, protesting against the action, but they didn't care. They screwed their sockets tightly together and shoved the blade into their ribcage.
They barely felt anything, so they did it again with a choked cry.
And again.
And again.
And then they slashed their ribcage from up to down until they finally collapsed on the tiles, blood flowing freely out of their torso. They felt lightheaded and let go of the dagger, letting it clash with the ground.
It was rather quiet now. They sniffed once more, laughing shortly and letting the world fade out of sight. Yes, this was right. It had to be.
...
Until it wasn't.
They woke up on a floating island suspended in the air, with papers painting the atmosphere.
No.
He couldn't have.
They look around, then down at their body. They were bandaged. No, no no! Why were they alive?!
"Ink?" They called weakly, but nobody came. Nobody heard.
Of course. It was the norm for nobody to listen to them.
They laid back down, fiddling with the grass beneath them and questioning many things. Why did Ink save them? He wasn't overly fond of Dream and made it clear in their last meeting.
It must have been the universe messing with them out of spite.
They sigh, turning over and deciding to take a nap for now.
...
Dream was woken up by Ink poking him. They looked over to the artist, not very glad to see him. The same could be said about the latter.
"Why'd you bring me here?" Dream asked after having been awoken. Ink stared at him.
"You can't just... quit," he replied, sitting beside them. "You have a job, and you have to do it, especially with Nightmare and his guys going around."
"It's harder when everyone brings you down," they bring their knees to their chest, feeling cold for the first time in a while. "You, not really, because you don't have to care. I do."
"What are you talking about? I care about the universes!"
"You don't care about the people in them," Dream spat, pulling his hood up. "I'm the only person in the multiverse who looks after the lives in the AUs. Do you know how hard that is on me? I'm an empath that has to constantly feel everyone's highs and lows..."
"Can't you like- stop the feeling thing?" Ink asked, his eye lights shifting.
"No, I can't control it, Ink! You can, I get it, but I can't," Dream mumbled desperately, breath shaking. "You should have left me there. You made a mistake saving me," they get up, clutching their arms.
"You have a duty-!"
"I didn't ask for mine!" Dream retorted. "Hardly anybody appreciates anything I do, and I constantly have to fight my brother, of which despises me even though I love him, and I..." they sigh, turning and getting ready to leave. "I'm tired. Please just... leave me alone."
"Do you want to know why I saved you?" Ink asked, making Dream pause and turn around.
"Why," they asked, though it didn't sound like much of a question.
"If you died, the multiverse would go to hell. Both you and Nightmare need to stay alive, and offing yourself would have made things worse than they currently are. So, if you do care about the multiverse, keep yourself healthy."
Dream frowned, frankly disappointed with the response.
"I'm not healthy, Ink. I don't think I have been for centuries," they said, before departing from the Doodle Sphere.
The confrontation somewhat worked. Dream had stayed away from their thoughts for as long as they could until they were brought up again by an occupant in an AU.
"You're that Dream fellow, aren't you?" she said. She was an older lady, about 50, Dream figured. They looked at her, smiling shortly. They paused their walk and approached, pulling their hood on.
"Yes, I must believe so. What do you need?" they asked, being ever so polite.
"There was an incident that happened here a few years ago, I'm not sure if you remember. It was with that skeleton covered in tar-?"
"I believe you're talking about Nightmare, and yes, I remember. I do apologize for any sort of trouble he's caused," they interject. They've said this so many times, it almost felt scripted.
"And you two are siblings, right?" she asked, putting the broom she was using aside. Dream fiddled with their hands.
"Yes, we are. Our relationship isn't the best, though, I'm afraid," they half-joked.
"Hm. Say, I've always been curious; what did happen between the two of you? Brothers don't hate one another at birth," she chuckled.
Dream flinched a bit at the inquiry. "Ah, that's er... a bit personal, and I'd rather not get into it," they wave their hand dismissively. "Please do understand."
"Aw, pity," she pouts. "I thought you'd have gotten over your doubts, being positive and whatnot."
Dream shook his head. "I'm... still a living being. I have boundaries, like everyone else," they attempt.
"Yeah, but you should be better than that, given all the advice and positive energy you proclaim you radiate."
"I never-?"
"Yes, you have, mister," the lady put her hand on her waist. "Heard it from a girlfriend of mine-- she's got the hearing of a dog, I tell ya."
"Okay, but I don't recall ever saying I 'radiate positivity,'" Dream re-phrases.
"Do you not, then? What good are you then in stopping a sludge monster of negativity?" the lady asked, a tad bit more on the aggressive side. "Then again, you look like you haven't slept in ages. Do you keep good hygiene, even?"
"I don't see how that's related..." their voice softens at the end.
"Well, obviously it's relevant," she said. "That's all basic stuff in figuring out if you're a reliable guardian. You're not at your best if you're sulking and crying, positive core or not."
Dream frowned, uncomfortable. "I'm trying, and I think that's what matters, ma'am," they said gently.
"You're immortal, you can totally try harder. In my opinion, you've got to rest up to be better."
Ah. So they weren't good enough. They tilt their head to the side, adverting her gaze.
"I best get going. Pleasure speaking with you," Dream concluded, walking away.
"You can't walk away from your problems, dove!" she called after them, but they had gone.
...Of course, they weren't good enough. They never were. They never would achieve perfection, even though that's what everyone expected of them.
They're now somewhere quieter in the same realm, though they sit tiredly on the floor. The lady did have a point-- when was the last time they slept?
Well, she wanted them to sleep, but they knew they wouldn't do it willingly. They blink before getting up and searching for something sturdy. They'll force themself to rest, that sounds about right. People do it all the time with pills, but they can't take that nonsense, so they'll have to resort to other measures.
They stare at a stone wall of a building and touch it with their hand. They laid their head against it, sockets shut as they thought for a millisecond. They then hit their head just above their crown around four times, feeling a bit dizzy afterward upon reopening their sockets. They sit down and tap the impacted area. It was cracked and, when they brought it back to their sight, left their phalanges a sickly red color. Oh, well, it'll do.
They lay down, blood running cold down their skull. They'll deal with that later. They sigh, losing consciousness around a minute later.
The next time was in a fight against Nightmare. Dream was roughened up against a wall, being choke-slammed by one of Nightmare's dark tentacles.
"You're holding back, Dream..." Nightmare sneered, grinning.
Dream didn't reply, trying to pry the tentacle off of them. The fractured bones on their body were leaking fresh warm blood, and they hurt...
"Giving into a world of pain, are we?" their brother cackled, tossing them to the floor and stepping on their ribcage. At least several ribs cracked, and Dream winced, unsure what to do anymore.
Their sight was getting blurry. It was difficult to speak, to get up. The light in their chest flickered, trying to signal Dream, but it was no use. They lay there, bleeding freely and body limp. They were conscious, but only just.
They were elevated by Nightmare's tendrils again, and he was laughing, Dream could tell. He was also talking, but the words passed through their head emptily. It was all the same obvious sayings:
"You're no good for this world."
"Nobody would notice if I killed you. You'll dust like any old monster."
"Just give up, you're already a failure."
"You look even more pathetic the more you try."
Some people would argue that these are childish remarks and that Dream should toughen up and ignore them.
But they had no intention of doing so, and it was too late. They'd already begun believing them months beforehand.
Nightmare let them fall, still rambling about the sad being Dream was. They listened to it and they silently agreed.
When Nightmare left, they simply laid down and began to cry. Their wounds didn't even hurt anymore. They hadn't seen Ccino in weeks, though for good reason.
...Maybe they should visit someone. No, not Ccino, but another person.
They press positivity to their wounds to aid in healing them, and they laboriously regain their balance, teleporting to another world. A world long gone, but one they could never forget.
...
The Dreamtale skies were red, and the air was cold and dead. The tears that fell felt more familiar in this place...
They cautiously walked on, glaring at the former paradise. There were bones and remains of people who once lived here scattered around the plains, all murdered by Nightmare. Dream couldn't tell whether or not they deserved it... they were terrible, sure, but nobody here ever deserved death for any sort of mistakes they made.
They walked on for a while, reliving the stress and despair of the deceased occupants, and their own. The incident was hard to think about, but it had happened, and that was the reality of the world.
Soon enough, a tree stump lay in front of them. It was once tall, lively, and beautiful, apples growing on evergreen leaves... Dream sighed, falling to their knees before it and resting their head on its face.
"...Hello, Mother," they mumbled, hugging it the best they could. "It's been a while."
They sat there, taking in the loud silence of their surroundings.
"I know you're not here, but it makes me feel better to think you are," they sniff, another tear falling from their right socket. "I'm really sorry. For e-everything... I should be able to stop him, but I didn't..."
They shut their sockets, rubbing their thumb on the wood.
"Why is it me that you chose? Why did I get all of this r-responsibility that I can't handle?..." they ask. "I don't know what to do anymore. I can't go a day without failing. I haven't e-eaten in... stars, I don't know, a few days? I can hardly feel anything aside from everyone's pain and my own sorrow..."
They sob, chest heavy. "Ink says I can't stop, and that I have to k-keep going, but I just can't do this anymore. The stars know I've tried, but it's so hard to be this bad at everything I do..."
Their bones tremble, and they bring themself upwards again.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be the guardian I promised to be, or the child you wanted," they shake their head. "I'm through. I can't do this anymore."
They sniff again, standing up. "I love you. And Nighty too, if he's here. I'll... hopefully see you two again soon," they blow a faint kiss to the stump.
They walk around the stump of wood and look out into the land. They really couldn't bear through this another day, and everyone would be happier once they were gone. They pick up an old machete from a nearby body and look at it, though they pause.
They remembered a rumor going around about Nightmare. Supposedly, he had been growing his own dark apples, right here in Dreamtale.
The question was, where?
Dream scopes the area before deciding to sense. There was obviously the area's natural negative energy, but-
Aha! A concentrated source east. They follow the negative energy blindly, not quite sure what to expect. Maybe those fruits could be the key to finally ending this cycle of misery. Maybe it was just another lie that got Dream thinking that there was some sort of hope. At this point, they were taking any chances they could get.
Approaching the source, they found out that it was indeed not a lie, and the rumors were true. There was a tree, albeit small, with black, rotting apples on them. The light in their chest shone and flicked, but Dream paid no mind as they gripped the machete in their hand and cut off a branch with an apple on it, not wanting to grab it just yet.
There were things that Dream thought about and things that Dream didn't quite think through. This could potentially be put in both categories, because Dream, lost and cloudy-minded, was open to any ideas to make themself perish. They did, however, think through any potential consequences, and they figured the pros outweighed the cons. They stared at the apple before them, and it was almost hypnotizing.
It had a sort of shimmer to it, and it didn't smell terrible despite its unnerving physical appearance. It was almost pretty and oh-so tempting. They picked it from the fallen branch--
And it didn't change.
This mildly surprised Dream, but they were in no position to complain. That definitely makes things so much easier than they thought they would have been. They studied the apple, and the fruit's lighter counterpart in their chest was practically frantic, trying to get them to stop, but the golden light couldn't help a lost soul. One that had been lost for ages.
At least that's the way Dream saw it. With the machete in one hand and the glorified negative apple in the other, they looked between the two. This could end quicker if they used both.
With that, they aimed the blade before their ribs and slashed, making them groan, and the effort of the positivity used for the Nightmare-caused wound now in vain. It's just more blood... they were used to seeing it; they've seen blood spilled across universes for ages now.
There, they thought, huffing laboriously. Now for the moment of truth. With little hesitation, they bit into the apple, and the consequences followed soon after.
They screamed, the negativity infecting their SOUL almost immediately. No, they've certainly hurt worse, they have to keep going-
They took another bite, and it hurt their chest more this time. It felt like their SOUL was prone to exploding, but they had to keep going.
The third bite was the largest thus far. They felt their bones crack and their senses go mad, but that was okay. They deserved this. Keep going.
And then the fourth bite made them gag on... liquid? It wasn't the apple, because they chewed it. They coughed up a black substance, and they collapsed on the ground, dealing with this negative energy killing them. They spit the most they could and forced another bite.
That's it. They unwillingly let go of the apple and grab their skull, feeling a tingling sensation in their spine. They're howling in pain, everything hurt so badly, why did it have to be this painful?!
Their vision blacked out and their skull broke, shattering the upper left portion of it. Something leaked out of it. It felt... alive.
Whatever it was, Dream could have sworn it had a voice.
Eat the rest, it said.
"I-I c-can't-"
Do you want this to stop? If you do, eat the rest.
'Eat the rest.' It'll end then, of course. They cough up more of that black substance-- being this vulnerable meant that they'd have to listen, right?
They squint, trying to find the fruit they had abandoned. They patted the ground, surprisingly being able to find the half-eaten apple. They gripped it, and it was melting, they felt. Regardless, they bit into it for the sixth time.
Their spine shattered, the noise uncomfortable, and the remaining gap revealed tentacles that curled and shifted curiously out of their body. Dream coughed further, taking another bite and feeling the substance coat their once pearly white bones. They breathe laboriously, unsure if they could take the last one-
Do it.
"B-but-"
Now!
This voice was rather commanding, and it sounded confident. So, they took the final bite, leaving the apple at its core.
They grip the grass tightly, groaning and hissing in pain. Their crown had fallen when their skull shattered, and they couldn't find it. They curled up, and they found the tendrils that were seeping out of their back protecting them by making a shield around them.
They were hyperventilating, and the darkness was overwhelming and cold. The substance covered their wounds, including the newest one, numbing the pain.
Was this what death felt like? If so, it was bittersweet. They shut their sockets and allowed the oddity to crack and seep into their bones.
Soon enough, it covered their entire body, and the tentacles gave way, exposing them once again to the red skies and lone dark trees beside them. They lay on the ground, limp but alive.
They had a picture in the front of their head of a hooded skeleton in a dark cloak. He emitted a neutral aura, and his sockets were dark and unlighted. Dream couldn't tell if he had feet, but he knew who this was either way.
"Reaper?" they called, and he turned around to look at them.
"Heya, Dream," he said, ever so calm and collected.
"Oh, thank the stars, it worked-"
"Your attempt didn't work, Dream."
They glanced at him oddly.
"What-?"
"Have a look at yourself."
And so Dream did. They had their body, some of their bones were cracked and were oozing out liquid negativity like their brother's, only theirs was warmer toned. They touched their skull, which had a gap on its left side, having shattered somehow. Cracks spread throughout the skull, and all of them felt wet. Their sockets were also contaminated with negativity. They couldn't feel their crown present.
"Yeah, I don't understand why it wouldn't have..." they sounded devastated.
"You should notice you're not dusting. See, uhm- you were saved by an entity in the apple you just ate," he said, making Dream look sick. "I er... don't know how that stuff works, but it's probably something like Nightmare, except it didn't kill you. You'll still be conscious up here, but you might not be able to control your body or actions in the physical world. It's sort of like a void, in a way; you're there, but you're also not. Right now, I'm in your head, and it's why you or it hasn't moved your body out there yet. I'm delaying any sort of awakening."
Dream shook their head. "Reaper, please, you have to take me."
"No, Dream, it's not your time yet," Reaper replied sternly.
"Why isn't it?! It was my twin's when he was six! He was just a child!..." they beg, tearing up again. "I want to see my Nighty again, I've missed him for the last decade and I've failed as a guardian because I can't even protect what's i-important to me-!" they yell, coughing soon after.
"It's not for me to decide, and I'm sorry," Reaper's expression softens. "Things are hard for any living thing, and the most I can tell you is you need to bear with them. I know you're fed up, given the suicide attempts, but I can't take you, it's not time and not up for debate," he sighs, trying to be as solemn as he can. "I really do apologize. I'll be here when it is, but it's not now."
Dream fell to the ground, touching the liquidized floor. They were vomiting that same goo, and it tasted putrid. They glanced at Reaper once again, sending him one more desperate gaze.
"I don't know what's going to happen next, but I hope you can figure it out with this new guy," Reaper said, turning away from Dream. "My advice? Only fight it when strictly necessary. You two might be sharing the same body for a good while."
And he vanished, leaving Dream alone. It was really dark in this place, and the air felt chilly. Was this their headspace all this time, or?...
...
They open their sockets, finding they were blind in one eye. It was gone-- they touched the vacant socket, noticing their darkened hands. Melty...
Their surroundings didn't seem as suffocating as before. It was open, almost entirely negative aside from the small positivity within them, and...
Oh, that's fascinating, they thought, seeing a tendril peek out from behind them. They flex it curiously, moving it up and down. They could control it...
And knowledge! It's everywhere... a new perspective from the sadness. So much of it is suppressed-- why would they hide the truth?
They stretch out their phalanges, getting up. Their bones were intact now, completely healed thanks to the negativity. Their view of the world was unfogged, and most of their burdens disappeared without a trace. They crack their neck, turning their skull to the side.
They see their crown, abandoned on the floor and pick it up with a tentacle, placing it in their hands and studying it. This'll have to change, won't it? They put it atop their now-mended head, now looking at their clothes.
Ugh, what awful fashion taste! It felt so uncomfortable in the goop, too. That'll certainly be different soon.
They look at the tree. There was more fruit, but eating more didn't feel as necessary as it did a few minutes ago. They sniffed at the atmosphere, relaxing for the first time in eons.
For once, they enjoyed the stillness of a dead universe.
They continue onward, humming. They should stay awhile and get to know their body and powers.
After all, he'll be here for a while. At least he plans to be.