Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[22] Sleep

I cautiously reached a hand out to test the sink. Given that this cell was completely surrounded by lava, I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't work. But against my belief, the handle gave under my hand and water spurted out. Slipping my hand in the strong stream, I found it was warm, which was no surprise, but not too hot. I didn't give myself time to wonder how Sam could have built something like this.

I turned back to Dream, who was sitting on the edge of his cot. His messy hair hung in his eyes as he inspected the slash through his shirt and onto his chest. His movements were still slow and careful, and I again wished that I had brought more healing pots.

I walked over to his cot and lifted the thin sheet that had been hanging off the edge. A streak of blood crossed its surface, but other than that, it looked clean enough.

"Do you mind if I use this?" I asked Dream.

He looked up and gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Go ahead."

With that, I used the warm water from the sink to wet one corner of the sheet. I sat myself next to Dream on his bed, hesitating. He looked at me with curious eyes and a subtle lift in his brow.

I raised the corner of the sheet to the area where blood had tried on his head. "Okay, just—tell me if it hurts, and I'll stop."

I pushed some of his hair away and started wiping away the blood. He stayed quiet, staring at the floor as I worked. It was hard not to notice his strong jawline or the subtle angle of his nose. The way his eyes glinted a bright shade of emerald green in the light of the lava.

I pulled in a breath. I needed something to fill the air before any awkwardness beat me to it.

"So..." I started. "I'm assuming you were the one who named the Dream SMP?"

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, turning his head slightly but not enough to disrupt my work. "Yeah." he said simply, moving his gaze back to the ground. "I didn't think to make a clever name, and Dream SMP had already stuck."

"How long ago did you come here?" My brows furrowed even more as the blood on his cheek kept smearing. It took me more than a few swipes to clear it up.

"Like three years ago probably. It was just me, George, and Sapnap at that time. The other's came when I told them about the SMP."

I caught the hint of sadness in his words, but he didn't seem particularly bothered by my questions, as if he was just retelling some point in history that wasn't related to him.

"Any reason why the 'Dream SMP' was the name that stuck? I mean, I know your name is Dream and all, but..." My question trailed off.

His gaze was pinned to the floor and his shoulders were rigid. I figured he was reliving some sort of memory, one I would probably never know of. His voice was softer when he answered. "My real name's not Dream by the way." He paused. "It's actually Clay, but...Dream is what I go by now."

The sheet in my hand slowed to a stop and my gaze moved to his, though he was still lost in his thoughts. "Clay, Dream." I tried out the difference on my own tongue, and his eyes snapped up at the sound of his name.

"I like the name Dream." I mused. The sheet I held was now a deep pink, and I stood up from the cot to cross over to the sink.

Dream didn't say anything as I rinsed and rung out the fabric a couple of times. It seemed as though the white sheet was bound to stay a little pink now. Deeming it clean enough, I turned back to him.

"All right, now to clean your hair."

But his hair was much more bloody than his face had been, and I looked down at the fabric in my hand. It was going to take more than a couple trips to the sink with what his hair looked like.