Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[35] Tiny Blue Flowers

Dream kept my door locked for a full day, only opening it to deliver food. I didn't speak and I didn't turn when the door opened. I didn't even bother getting up. Nothing seemed appetizing, so I stared at the wall and drifted in and out of the world of sleep.

Eventually, I dragged myself away from the cot to soothe my parched throat with some water and try the bread. But that was all I could stomach, and I returned to sleep quickly.

Most of the time, I stared up at the ceiling or the brick wall, seeing nothing. My mind was numb, and holding a thought was difficult. They rose just barely to the surface, never clear enough, and then faded away again.

When the door remained unlocked past lunch, and there were no visitors, I pulled myself out of bed to climb the stairs. Some sense of mine was focused on appeasing Dream, so I could avoid as much confrontation as possible. So up the stairs I went, because that sense told me he would somehow force me to eat if I didn't do so myself.

Ranboo was there again, but I stirred my soup around and blocked out whatever conversation he had with Dream or Wilbur. If Ranboo was just as possessed as Dream, there was no point in trying anything. Besides, It was useless to waste my energy to open my mouth and speak. I barely had any to begin with.

I didn't speak to anyone for three whole days. I barely made a sound other than the hiccuping breaths that managed to escape when my tears fell silently in the night. I went through the motions, collecting Wither skulls when we traveled to the Nether, and attending every meal, even if I retreated to my room a minute later. I did everything the Dreamon would have wanted me to do. Everything to the point where he stopped following me, stopped keeping watch over my every move. He must have realized it was a waste of time.

So after many tedious days, I finally stepped foot outside again, without anyone following me or leading me to the Nether. It was purely because I thought about doing it myself.

I sat on a log not far away from the house. There were tiny blue flowers below my feet and I plucked a few from the ground, absently pulling the petals apart as I breathed in the fresh air and listened to the sounds of the swaying trees and singing birds. A scampering, grey rabbit paused nearby, and it bounced away when the door to the house opened and closed.

I didn't turn to look at who it was. Footsteps sounded behind me, getting closer until they stopped not far from where I was sitting. After a brief moment, they moved in front of me and I recognized the heavy, brown trench coat.

Wilbur sat himself next to me on the log. Silence stretched out, melding with the forest, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The small tension that began to pool in my gut when he first arrived slowly drained away as the time wore on. With only silence between us, his presence was almost comfortable now.

I surprised myself by speaking up first, asking a question that had been on my mind since Wilbur was revived. The words managed to break through the fog in my mind, as quiet as they were.

"Why do you want to destroy the SMP?"

A breeze ruffled the leaves again, sweeping a strand of hair in my face that I had to push behind my ear again. Wilbur didn't answer, as if he hadn't heard me me at all. But I knew he did. The quiet dragged on, almost until the lingering thoughts of the question disappeared. It was then that he finally answered.

"I don't know."

I looked up at him, my gaze snapping to his face. He was staring off into the forest, not bothering to meet my eyes.

"You don't know?" I repeated.

He shrugged then, with little energy. "When I returned, I saw how everyone looked at me. That hidden emotion in their eyes. They were afraid of me, nearly everyone was. So I thought, if that would never change, if that's all they saw me as, then I'll show them exactly what they wanted to see." He paused, taking in a breath, and his voice quieted. "There's...no going back to what once was."

My gaze drifted away from his, staring off into the grass. He was technically right, I wouldn't deny it. I was scared of him. He had helped the Dreamon escape, sent Withers on people that could have been my friends. He did nothing to stop Dream from taking me, from hurting me. I subconsciously opened my mouth to apologize, but what was I apologizing for? My mouth clamped shut again. I sure didn't want him to think I was condoning his actions, that every opportunity he didn't take to help me was okay. I couldn't forgive him that easily for continuously standing aside and watching me break down.

But hearing him now...He must have felt some level of comfort or trust to tell me his honest feelings.

"I don't think anyone can fall too far," I murmured, twisting the small flowers between my fingers, "There's still room to catch yourself. You can still change." I looked back up at him. "And the fact that you're telling me this, well...it sounds like you do want to change, and I think acknowledging that may be the first step in the right direction."

Wilbur finally met my gaze, studying me with a small crease in his brow. For the first time in a long time, a smile—a gentle one—touched my lips. He looked away when he saw it.

"Y'know, I admire your strong-will and kindness," he mused, "Reminds me of someone I know. Someone...where those traits were beaten down and abused."

He paused, and I thought he had finished speaking, but he continued, his voice quiet and soft.

"I hope you haven't lost them as well. This land needs something good."

My gaze drifted back down to the mangled flowers twisted between my fingers. I opened my hand and let the little petals sprinkle the ground. We were silent now, just letting the soft breeze speak for us. But Wilbur's words were circling my mind, chanting over and over. The Dreamon had crushed me down, just like I had done to the flowers. Maybe he thought he won. Maybe I thought he won. But while the petals were scattered, they could grow into something new, something stronger. And...maybe I could too.

Maybe I was willing to risk being made an enemy in the SMP and possibly hunted down. But without that risk, I wouldn't know who my true friends and allies were. I wouldn't know what freedom I could have if I left the Demon behind, and that was the most freedom I could ever ask for at the moment.

I sat up a little straighter, my mind suddenly whirling. But above it all, one thing was clear.

I wasn't going to let the Demon win, not over me.

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A/N

Very short chapter compared to the recent ones. I hope it reads alright though. I was honestly kinda struggling with it. I really wanted to include Wilbur more, so he wasn't just standing around in the background lol.  But I also didn't want to make unnecessary dialogue. Idk, it's the most I could do at the moment. I'll see if I can include some more action with him in the future though.

Thanks for reading, and see you all next time!