Dream never found out how the meetings between Sci and Nightmare went. Nightmare would probably be avoiding him once again. Dream was really tired of it.
He would have to assume there still had been no answers. Even if things were tense, Dream didn't think Nightmare would keep such information from him, seeing as to how much he wanted to preserve his own life. Yes, that would be the only reason Nightmare was helping him after all.
Like a fool, he had believed otherwise, but now he was fully prepared to expect nothing.
Remaining idle as the sickness ate at him, what a hopeless thing to do. He'd been sitting on the bed, his room a self-imposed prison, thinking again. That's all he'd been doing recently. More so than ever before in his life.
It was becoming rather unpleasant, negative thoughts come flooding easily. Ruminating had never been his thing.
Had his words really been empty ones? All his words came from the heart, or it was what he liked to believe.
He had never stopped hoping for the halcyon days to return, however impossible that might be. It was something so utterly unattainable, and yet he couldn't let go.
To grasp so firmly at nothing, how desperate he must be. Nightmare had been right, somewhere along the way he must have given up, and his hope became something of a mirage.
... He had become someone who spewed hollow words that held no weight. How despicable.
Truthfully, the corruption had not been as debilitating as he had expected. It wasn't like he had become bedridden. It held it's place as an inhibitor to his powers, and now positivity no longer seemed to favour him. He didn't feel much weaker physically, but he won't be able to use any magic at all to defend himself. So other than the coughing and hacking, the bothersome sludge, it was still bearable.
What wasn't bearable was Nightmare thinking he could keep Dream here. It was almost funny how it was easier to tolerate Killer, Horror and Dust than Nightmare himself. They were all skeletons with murderous tendencies, broken by their past, but he found himself strangely alright with them. It wasn't that he condoned their actions, but it was easier to sympathise when viewing from a different perspective. And as long as they weren't trying to snuff out his life or torture anyone, they were okay.
It was much easier to fight someone when you dehumanise them. To hurt someone without remorse, you have to believe they are the absolute evil, so your actions against them can become justified.
It was harder to do so now, when Dream had so commonly witnessed them fighting over the remote, teasing each other, clearly making do with what they have. Even if these playful confrontations turn into full on sparring matches, there remained an atmosphere of contentment.
He never disliked those who tried their best despite their harrowing circumstances. They weren't just a bunch of criminals anymore.
But Nightmare always seemed distant. Almost as if he were the odd one out.
...
Thinking about them... he hoped Dust was okay. If they had already known his actions to be a common occurrence, then they should have it sorted out suitably. It was always easier when he helped others with their problems. That way, he could forget about his own less important ones.
But Dream hadn't left his room since the argument with Nightmare. He still wasn't comfortable participating in idle conversation with anyone here.
Even if he were to be worried about monsters like them, slaughtering of the innocent was definitely not an acceptable action.
YOU ARE READING
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Fanfiction(This is DISCONTINUED, so be aware if you don't want to read something that won't be completed) The endless fighting and unresolved sorrow. Dream is tired of it all. In his desperate act of selfishness, he ends up captured by Nightmare.
