On the other side. (DreamWasTakenxReader)

ACT I: Rapport

Word Count: 1313

no, I dont have time or the motivation to proof read. but please point out my unavoidable mistakes.

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I woke up to ringing in my ears, my head pounding. My eyelids felt like cement when I opened them, at any moment I felt like they would shut permanently. The ceiling was spinning, dark splotches jumping around in my vision like bouncy balls. A painful groan escaped my lips, as I tried to sit up, pain suddenly shooting through my body.

After a few minutes, I eventually sat up, ignoring the protest of my muscles. The dark dots finally disappeared, along with my dizziness. I directed my gaze towards the metal door, none other than Dream sitting on the floor, cross-legged next to it. My memories suddenly hit me like a brick, a scowl finding it's way onto my face.

Dream wasn't moving, his head lolled forward, with his body slumped. He seemed to be asleep, making me wonder how long he had been watching me. I flicked my eyes over to the window, sunlight pouring through it, shadows passing every now and then.

I felt safe despite Dream being in the same room, awake or not. I could see the weapons strapped to him, his armor glowing with enchantments, he was undoubtedly able to kill me if he woke up. Despite that, the thought of getting up, and stealing one of the weapons he had crossed my mind.

I quietly moved my legs over the side of my bed, but before I could try to stand fully, my knees suddenly felt weak. I grumbled under my breath, confused as to why my legs felt like jelly. I sat back on the bed, deciding that if I wanted to crawl, I would stay here to avoid falling over. At least until I gathered my strength. 

I reached up to my head, a natural response to the pain was to hold my head, but my fingers brushed against a rough cloth surface, making me freeze. I scrunched up my nose, grabbing and feeling the rough surface of fabric. I must've got hit in the head, and someone patched me up. That was the cause of the pain pulsing in the side of my head then.

Clothes scratched the ground, my eyes shooting up to meet Dream's mask. The young man shifted, his head lolling to the side instead of forward, and shoulders relaxing more. I paused, watching him settle back into his sleeping state. At least I thought he was still asleep, his mask covered his face, concealing any expression. 

I waited a few minutes, watching his chest slowly rise, even a soft snore slipping from him. Once I was sure, I tried again to stand up, finally finding strength in my legs I crept over to him. Something about his sleeping form made my stomach flip, and butterflies form. It could've been anxiety, yet it wasn't common for me to have it. 

I dropped to a crouch, ignoring the sudden shock of pain from the action. I reached towards his leg, several knives were secured there, along with his armor partially hiding them from view. My hands slipped under his armor, softly grabbing the handle of the closest knife I could reach. 

I paused, looking up to his mask, but my worry was put to rest when another soft snore came from him. My attention went back to the knife I was getting, my fingers wrapping delicately around the blade, and slipping it out from the scabbard. 

It wasn't a long knife, but I could see the jagged edges as the blade was revealed to the sunlight. The tip was sharp, and the blade itself was sturdy. It seemed like the perfect weapon for murder, but every weapon was used for murder, including a certain bow. I frowned to myself, but quickly replaced it with a grin once I had gotten the knife safely into my possession.

Dream still hadn't moved from his position, most likely still asleep. This was my chance to slit his throat, and get away. I could even dress up as him, and get past whoever was here. I gripped the knife handle tightly to the point I was trembling, as if placing all my rage into it.

I wondered how he fell asleep in my room, or how long he had watched me. Maybe he was the one who patched my head, the one to carry me back. This wasn't my home, and he killed Tommy, I couldn't be showing mercy. My mind felt like it was in a war, all the while the blade was slowly raising. 

The way my stomach twisted, and flipped keeping me from just attacking him. I faintly remember him hugging me, whispering comforting words to me, but I also remembered him killing Tommy. A part of me now urged me to take a peek under his mask, and I found myself reaching with my free hand to the edge of his mask. 

My breath felt caught in my throat, as I began to move aside the mask, lifting it up ever so gently. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the start of freckles across his cheek, drawing me closer to him. Before I could the mask completely off, a hand shot up, trapping my wrist around his fingers.

I let out a yelp, scrambling back in an attempt to get away from him. My other arm raised, knife catching the light as it came down in a swift motion, but his body jerked, the blade hitting his armor instead of his skin. The knife made an awful scraping noise as it cut across his armor, leaving a nasty scratch on it. I reeled my arm back, about to strike again, but this time his other hand came out, stopping me from going for another hit.

I struggled, thrashing my body, and pulling away, but my attempts were futile. My body relaxed, the familiar burn in my body returning. I connected my gaze to his mask, scowling at him, burying the pleasant feeling of being close to him under my anger.

"You deserve to die," I spat, making a mock attempt to strike him with the blade again. "You killed a child, and you have no remorse," I add with a sharp tone, glaring at his mask. 

"Y/N-" He began to say, but I cut him off with a snap of my voice. "You're a monster, and I have no idea why I didn't just slice open your throat when I had the chance."

That was mostly true, as I didn't know why I stopped. I had the chance, and yet I let it slip through my fingers like water. I was an idiot, and that was the only thing I was sure of. I glowered at him, before trying to stab his arm again. 

In response, he got the blade out of my hand, and pushed me back onto the ground. I grunted, rolling over onto my feet, allowing me to rise up onto my feet. My head was pounding, demanding that I sat down before I took a tumble. Dream took a step away from me, securing his blade to it's scabbard before making any attempt to talk to me.

"Tommy isn't dead, Y/N. He's fine, I wouldn't just kill the kid," Dream announced, raising his hands in defense. I halted my movement towards him, processing what he had just said. If Tommy wasn't dead, then Dream wasn't a murderer. Strangely I felt happy at that, but I still didn't understand my feelings. 

"How can I trust you?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes at Dream. He rolled his shoulders, glancing over at the window. 

"It's hard to trust me, I get that, but there's a reason I'm doing this war," Dream trailed off, a pause before he added, "And it isn't to kill a couple kids."

"Then what is it?"