Pandemonium | Dream SMP

78. Now there's a twist I didn't see coming.

It takes me a moment to understand Dream's vague answer, but when it does register I frown and pull away from him, casting my gaze to the side. My brows crease as unease pools inside my stomach like a bad drink.

"You...won't take anything else, will you?" I ask testily.

His answer is immediate. Determined. "No. I won't."

I bite my lip, eyes darting to and fro as I do invisible calculations. What Dream has asked for is...quite frankly a bitch move. He knows how bad I need him, and he's taking full advantage of it. Affection alone, for once, isn't enough to sway him to my side. Not when he knows it's Schlatt he'll ultimately be helping. Out of everyone in this cave, Dream is the one who most wants to see him dead. So of course the price is going to be high. But is it too high?

"Schlatt will never agree," I comment, glancing to the masked man. He's still crouched down, attention focused unnervingly on me.

"Schlatt doesn't have to know. This is a deal between us, not him."

"It would take time, too. I don't know where he keeps the book."

"I can wait."

I'm making excuses. I know I am. Maybe I'm hoping Dream will change his mind—will make an easier request. It's my own fault he even knows about the book. So I can't even blame Dream for wanting it. Who wouldn't want the power of life and death in their hands? The power of a god? Then again would there be much difference if Dream had the book instead of Schlatt? I'd basically be passing it from one tyrant to another.

"Are you saying you can't do it?" Dream's question is full of mirth as he tilts his head. He's enjoying my mental struggle, because really this is a deal he can't lose in. I'm the only one with anything to lose.

I shoot him a glare, "of course I can do it. I said that I'd do anything, didn't I?"

I stand and so does he.

Turning away I push my fingers through my hair, loosening my braid, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

A hand tugs at my braid, followed by a hum from Dream, "it is interesting to see how far you'll go for the bastard. But I do have one question."

"Yes?"

"If you're so worried about him kicking the bucket, why not just ask for the book so you can resurrect him yourself? In fact, why are you bothering to ask for my help at all? It makes no sense."

When I say nothing, Dream presses on, his suspicions growing, "but you've already thought about that, haven't you? You're too smart not to. Hey, are you going to say something? I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," I sigh, turning back to face him. My expression is uneasy. Uncomfortable. "I think about it all the time. How easy it would be to bring him back. To keep him by my side. But then I remember my experience of coming back and I realise that I could never put Schlatt through that. I'd rather he stay dead than make him into a fractured mess like me."

"What do you mean fractured?" Dream asks, and I know his eyes are narrowing.

"Bringing someone back from the dead isn't an easy job," I explain, my hands coming up to grip my arms, "it takes practice. You don't just spout a few words and suddenly they arise good as new. Or at least, this is how Schlatt described it—he's never let me actually read the book. But he has told me that I'm the closest he's ever come to creating a perfect person. That the others were incomplete in their resurrection."

I look up into Dream's mask, to where I know his eyes are staring straight into me and my broken soul. "I'm also incomplete. There are parts of me that are missing, or simply don't fit together right. I know it's probably not that obvious on the surface, but I can feel it." I reach a hand over, not to my heart, but to my stomach. "I'm...missing my womb. And I don't bleed, either. I'll never have children, not that I really wanted any to begin with."