Awesamdream - His Beloved Warden [Fic 1]

3. A Visitor

A few days later, Dream was feeling much better, but he still spent most of his time in his bed, as Sam hadn't yet finished the prototype. The IV line was removed after only a couple days and he was brought potions to drink with his meals, and he was feeling stronger, which only made him more restless. His rib was still healing, but Sam had been able to switch out the hard brace for bandages, along with recommending Dream don't stretch or bend in certain ways for a few days.

Sam visited him, which was nice, but he had other responsibilities, so he was often away for hours. Dream usually just sat at the edge of his bed, sometimes writing or drawing, as Sam had brought the chest holding his books over closer. Sam had also given him some books to read, which was a nice way to pass the time, even if they were ones Dream has read before.

The fever had broken at last, so really he felt great, and would love to just be able to walk or even run laps around his cell. But he couldn't. He has tried hopping to see how well he could move like that, but it wasn't a very quick way to move, and he almost fell multiple times before giving up and sitting back down.

He had his diary open on his lap, idly surrounding an instance of Sam's name with hearts that he was putting way too much effort into shading, when he heard the intercom come on.

"Dream?"

"Uh, yeah?" Dream asked, closing the book and returning it to his inventory with a thought.

"You have a visitor. Do you want to see them?"

"Who is it?" Dream asked suspiciously.

"Puffy."

Dream stilled, then nodded, turning to look at the camera. "Oh? Yeah, sure! I'd like to see her."

"Alright, give us a few minutes." The intercom turned off.

Dream hasn't seen Puffy in so long. She had visited him back at the beginning of his imprisonment, but he hasn't seen her since. She had been so sad back then. He had started to think she just didn't care about him anymore, that she was like everyone else and thought things were better with him locked away. But now she was going to see him again, and he could ask her why it took her so long.

When Puffy arrived, she was being escorted by Sam. He stayed right behind her as they crossed to Dream's cell, and she seemed a little surprised as she looked up at the dispensers far above them. "You don't have the lava here anymore?" she asked.

"I can bring it back if I need to, but he's not at much risk of escaping right now," Sam said. "For his comfort while he recovers, I'm keeping the lava wall off."

"I see." She looked over at Dream as she stepped into the cell, briefly staring at his face, before she glanced down at his leg. She frowned and looked back up, her soft sheep ears hanging low, and she approached him without fear or hesitation, setting her hand on his shoulder. "Oh, duckling," she said quietly.

"Hey," he replied, not knowing what else to say. He knew his nose was still bruised, and the cut on his cheek was mostly healed but the scar was very visible. He also realized he had been wearing his mask when she last saw him. So it must be a shock for her to see him like this.

"Can I sit?" she asked, and he nodded. She sat next to him, hand falling from his shoulder to his back. "How are you doing?"

"Could be worse," he replied. "I could be dead."

"Yes, but you're not. I'm glad you're still with us."

"Are you?" Dream's throat grew tight. "I didn't think anyone actually cared. Since none of you bothered to visit me in the last several months. Oh sure, I got visitors at first, people wanting to make sure I really was caged up and far away from them. And then they never came back. No one cared enough to see how I was doing."