Sleepy Buddies [REWRITE] //Dreambur

Where?

Floating.

He was floating.

He was floating?

Where

was he?

He wasn't in water,

not wet.

He was

simply

floating.

It was dark, too dark,

The earlier brightness was gone.

No more blinding white light.

It was easier to think now.

Something hissed and noise reached his ears.

He had ears?

Something was hiding in the darkness.

"Hello?"

His voice was deeper than he thought it would be.

It didn't echo.

Slithering.

He heard it again, a heavy object moving through the darkness.

He stepped away from the noise and nearly fell into a hole behind him.

NO!

Arms wheeled.

He stayed out of the hole.

The thing in the darkness laughed.

"Come out you fucker, I can't see you."

That seemed like the appropriate thing to say.

"That's the point," a voice murmured, guttural and scratchy and devoid of any earlier humor.

"Who are you?"

A pause.

"Well, that's easy." A character in green stepped out of the darkness. Beautiful gold wings adorned its back, multiple sets waving in a nonexistent breeze. A green cloak. A mask with unintelligible characters scratched onto it. The most prominent were "X" and "D". Multiple sets of hands.

A god.

"Correct," the god said, its face unmoving. "You're smarter than you look."

The god waved its many hands, and the darkness exploded with colors and sounds.

It was... Dream?

His life was floating all around him, every moment colorful and highlighted in the once dark void.

He saw himself with his family, his friends, his previous boyfriends, the Sleepy Boys, Corpse, everyone.

Embarrassing moments flashed by, intertwined with angry shouting and days spent sobbing in his room.

He saw his exploits of setting things on fire and running on rooftops and the prison breaks where he had been in control.

He saw himself sitting on the ground in the bathroom, his gloved hands covered in blood.

Techno's face floated around him, and Dream could practically hear the dry sarcasm.

Wilbur was one of the most prominent people Dream saw, interwoven with nearly everything he did.

Eventually, the movie screens all became one, highlighting one memory. Dream, sitting on the roof with his feet dangling off, his head on Wilbur's shoulder, watching the trident games with bright eyes. Everyone else had been blurred into the background.

"What is this," he asked quietly. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You chose to be morally judged by the gods rather than face death," was the explanation. "That's what breaking that totem did."

"Oh."

"If I find you worthy of continuing life, you'll be sent back to your kind."

"And if you don't find me worthy?"

"Well, you'll wander the earth as a lost soul as you search for redemption," the god explained, almost sounding cheerful at the prospect. As if such a thing could feel excitement.

"Well," Dream said, his voice quivering, "what did you decide?"

Silence.

Then hands grabbed him and pushed him back into the hole against his will. He screamed, flailing around as terror raced through him. Light started to rush back in and the god leaned over, etched mask watching him fall.