Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[40] Believe Me

I had a nightmare.

Dream was chasing me, and I was leaping through the forest, the tall spruce trees curving inwards, their needle-sharp leaves scraping my skin as desperation burned hot in my chest. I could hear his footfalls close behind me, my breath catching and my heart rate spiking as I knew the distance between us was closing. But I kept running, slapping the branches out of the way, not even caring for the stinging sensation that spiderwebbed along my arms and legs. The forest was endless, full of infinite trees that all looked the same, dark and scraggly, clouding the sky and tunneling me into shadowed pathways.

Dream's hand snatched my hair, yanking back painfully until I was falling, tumbling backwards into empty air. Fear shot through my body like lightning as trees and mountains whizzed by. Colors shifted and mingled and my vision darkened. I was falling.

Falling.

I twisted in the air and glimpsed the ground as it rushed up to meet me. I pulled my arms up to cover my face, but it was too late.

My entire body seized up as my eyes flew open. I was breathing hard, shaky and sweaty. The covers on top of me were heavy and hot, and I kicked off the sheets that had become entangled with my legs, sitting up in the bed.

The fresh air to my limbs was only partially relieving. For a second, I peered through the dark, expecting to see the cold, brick walls and stone ceiling, the rectangular shafts of moonlight flooding in from the tiny, barred window above my head. I blinked a couple of times, taking in the wooden walls and quaint windows framed with red curtains. The door across the room was closed, and I vaguely remembered the fact that it wasn't locked, that I could open it and leave if I wanted.

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, my racing heartbeat was finally starting to slow. It was fine. I was okay. I was here in Kinoko, far away from Dream.

No. I mentally corrected myself. It was the Demon I was scared of, not Dream. There was a difference. I had to remember that. One was manipulative and merciless, while the other was protective and kind. The real Dream was willing to carry this burden alone if it meant his friends were safe, to ask if I was the one okay after he had taken the brunt of the fall off a cliff.

I wondered briefly if he was still having nightmares, even in his Dreamon state. If he ever woke up from the possession of the Demon, he would be alone, far away from any of his friends, from anything that he knew. No knowledge of how he got there either. It sounded miserable.

But it renewed my determination to help him. I didn't know why I had gotten so caught up in helping. At this point, though, I considered him something of a friend, and freeing him from the Demon would not only help him but some of the SMP as well. It would help my friends that were his friends as well, and we could all live without the continuous terror of the Demon.

Almost sounded like a happily ever after, if it wasn't so complicated. Wishful thinking, of course.

I collapsed back into my bed and squeezed my eyes shut. I forgot just how comfortable a real bed could be. The cot in that basement I had lived in for weeks was easily forgotten. No more finding a comfortable sleeping position for my injuries, or tiptoeing around that little cottage like a bomb would go off if I said something wrong or moved in the wrong direction. No more going to the hot Nether every day to collect Wither skulls—

My eyes flew open.

Wither skulls. Dream and Wilbur were gathering them to rain Withers on the SMP once more. How had I completely forgotten that?

And I knew Dream wasn't just gathering Wither skulls. He was surely stockpiling other resources, and had already been doing so for two weeks. There was no doubt the two would be ready to attack—and soon.