Down with the King- Dream SMP

17- Dream

Dream walked along the darkened hallways until he reached the all too familiar door. Slipping a key into the lock, he stepped into Drista's room. His gaze fell on her sleeping form huddled in the window seat. She must have fallen asleep reading; a book lay on the floor where she had dropped it and the curtains were pulled back to allow moonlight to be her guide.

Crossing the room, he carefully picked his sister up in his arms, making sure not to wake her, and laid her in bed. Tucking her in just like their mom used to, he brushed her hair away from her forehead and smiled. He loved Drista more than anything, but it pained him that she thought so horribly of him. One day, Drista would see that everything he'd done had been for her safety and she'd come back to him. After all, he was her older brother. He was meant to look out for her, to protect her.

She stirred in her sleep and he quickly backed away, knowing that the moment she woke up Drista would yell at him. He left the room, locking the door behind him as he went. He didn't like keeping her locked up, but if it would keep her safe, it was worth it.

One day, he reminded himself. One day, she'll see.

There was one more visit he wanted to make tonight and soon, he was down in the Apothecary.

"Hello Wilbur," he said upon opening the door.

"Hello Clay!" Wilbur replied cheerfully.

"I told you to stop calling me that," Dream sighed, shutting the door behind him.

"But that's what Drista called you," Wilbur said, confused. "Isn't that your name?"

"Well, yes," Dream admitted, shaking his head. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. Call me what you want, I don't care."

"Seems like you would want to care about your name," Wilbur said. "Names are important! Like how the name Tommy makes me all happy inside. Clay, did you know that me and Tommy were brothers? Notice how I say were, it's because I'm not alive!"

"Yes, Wilbur, I noticed," Dream said, opening his leather journal and taking a seat at the wooden desk. He grabbed a quill and after dipping it in dark green ink, he began a new entry.

"I wonder if my name makes anyone happy?" Wilbur continued his train of thought. "You know, Drista once said that Tommy was excited to hear that I was sentient! I think my name makes him happy."

Dream froze. "What did you just say?"

"I said I think my name makes Tommy happy!" Wilbur replied, his milky white eyes unfocused as he happily swung his feet back and forth.

"And how do you know that?"

"Drista told me!"

"Drista has seen Tommy?"

"Yes," Wilbur nodded. "I asked her to deliver a message to Tommy for me after I met... oh, I don't think I'm supposed to talk about that."

"What," Dream growled, his heart hammering within his chest. "What are you not supposed to talk about?"

"That's the thing, Clay," Wilbur responded. "If I tell you, then I'm talking about what I'm not supposed to be talking about!"

"Wilbur," he said slowly. "You know that I'm only here to help you, right?"

Wilbur fidgeted nervously. "I-I'm not sure... Drista always said that you were only hurting me, that I shouldn't trust you-"

"Drista lied to you," Dream said, the bitterness in his voice surprising even him.

"Drista wouldn't lie to me!" Wilbur exclaimed, but there was doubt there. Good, he could feed off that.

"Would she?" Dream asked, slowly closing his journal. "Why would she tell you not to trust me?"