Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first sign was so small, it’s not surprising that he missed it, in hindsight. 

After all, who considered it an ability to simply make other people smile by smiling at them?  

~!~

Hob settled on his desk, ignoring the projector behind him, facing all of his students who were staring at him - some exhausted, others interested, and a few who were here for simply the attendance credit he offered.  He smiled at them all and was relieved when he saw more than half of them smile back, something settling deep in his chest.  

"Why is history important?" he asked, looking around the room.  "Shout out answers, there's no formal discussion here."  

It was a few long seconds before an answer he was expecting came from the middle of the room.  "So we can learn from our mistakes!"

Hob smiled faintly.  "While that is always important and vital to our growth as people and as beings on this planet, do you think history is only a list of things you should never do again?"  Silence this time, so he gestured.  "Come on, what's another reason history is important?"  

"Uh, so we can appreciate the journey that brought us here?" A timid voice called out.

Hob gave Rebecca a nod and grin, watching her perk up under the attention.  "Another great answer.  It's true - understanding how and why we got to where we are is important if things are ever to change in the future.  If you can't untangle the source of something, you're doomed to repeat the same mistakes."  

"But that's not the answer you're looking for, is it Professor?" A sharp voice asked.  

Laughing, Hob turned to look at Alex, sprawled in the second row, his expression sharp and mocking.  "You're right, it's not.  They're important answers, but they're not the one I'm looking for."  

"Why not just tell us then?" Alex challenged.  

"Because if I tell you the answers, what is there to discover for yourselves?"  Hob asked, shrugging.  "Life's all about learning, exploring, finding new things and appreciating them.  Even the smallest new experience can fuel a lifetime."  He'd known that.  Better than almost anyone in history, he figured.  

Met with silence, Hob smiled at them again, keeping his expression open.  "If you look far enough back in history, you can see the invention of all sorts of things.  What's an example of something that revolutionized history?"

"The printing press!" Several people answered.

Hob laughed again, delighted.  "Glad to see some of you are paying attention," he said with a wink.  "You are right.  The printing press changed history - even though it would be centuries before literacy rates rose enough to make differences."  He paused and looked at each of them.  "You know what else did?  Chimneys."  

All of the students looking at him blinked in surprise, making him grin.  He could remember this conversation with Dream as though it were yesterday, seared into his memory, how much he'd marveled at them, at handkerchiefs, at playing cards.

"Smoke no longer lingered in rooms, it had an outlet.  Less houses burned down as a result of more easily contained fires.  Less people suffered from smoke inhalation," Hob listed off, looking between them.  "It allowed for heat to be much easier contained within a room, and to heat castle rooms with ease."  He shrugged.  "The simplest things we take for granted, at one point, were magical discoveries for the people seeing them for the first time."  

He had the attention of majority of the room now, all of them staring at him, a mix of curiosity and interest.  Hob drew out the moment and grinned at all of them, leaning in closer, like he was imparting a secret.  In a way, he was.  

"History is important because it reminds us that for every marvel we see today - people experienced marvels as things we take for granted now.  Those who saw the creation of chimneys, imagine how they marveled at something so simple and obvious now," his students were shocked, almost surprised at the idea, but he could see growing interest and bright eyes.  

"By looking back into history, seeing those things, understanding what they meant for the people then, we free up our imagination, our hopes, our dreams, for what the future could bring."  Hob leaned forward just a little more and watched several students mimic the motion.  "Imagine, just dream of what you'll see in your own lifetimes.  There are no limitations save your own creativity."  

The room was silent enough to have a pin drop, and Hob let the moment stretch for a few precious seconds longer before he leaned back and closed his laptop, shutting off the presentation and breaking the spell he'd drawn over his students.  "All right, so in the vein of this discussion, I'm assigning you all a paper-" he laughed at the groans.  "I want at least three pages, double-spaced, writing from the perspective of someone living before the year 1800 - something they watched be created or discovered! And if you submit any cavemen finding fire stories, I promise I will laugh heartily and hand you back a failing grade."  

Faint laughter now and Hob slid off his desk and grinned at them, gesturing to the door.  "Get going, I know it's the weekend and I can give you back fifteen minutes.  Paper is due next Friday!"  As the stampede of students left the room, Hob packed up his laptop and tried to settle the buzzing that was under the skin.  He'd clearly been hanging around Dream too much if he felt like he was weaving spells over people when he talked about their future hopes and dreams.  

Perhaps Dream would join him for a drink this week and he could regale his friend with the story.  He'd enjoy it, for certain.  But for now, he had an afternoon class to teach and he needed to make his way across campus to get coffee.  The baristas were always tipped abominably unless he got there first and dropped an obviously large tip in their jar.  It always seemed to inspire more people to tip when he did.

He shouldered his bag and made his way out of the classroom, humming as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, smiling and nodding at students as he passed, all of them grinning back and waving at him.

In hindsight, it, perhaps, should have been a lot more obvious.  

~!~

Hob opened his eyes and knew, in that instant, he was dreaming.  He grinned and stretched, allowing himself to flop back into the grass with a happy sigh.  Cherry blossoms.  

He would have to remember to thank Fiddler’s Green for adding this small garden one of these days.  He picked up one of the petals beneath him and stared up at the canopy.  They were beautiful and his favorite dreams always started here, watching them bloom and fall.

However, if he wanted to see his friend, he needed to get up and moving.

With a groan, Hob climbed to his feet and stretched, pressing a palm to the tree and smiling.  “Thank you, dear friend, for such a lovely entrance to the Dreaming.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll spend all my time here and watch the blossoms fall.”  A rustle of the branches was his only answer and he turned to the path that would lead him to the giant stone bridge that lead to the castle of Dream of the Endless.  

Pushing his hands into his pocket, Hob whistled as he walked down the path, waving to the Dreams and even the Nightmares as he passed.  The smiles he received in return put a particular bounce in his step and by the time he’d shouted greetings to Dream’s guardians at the gate, Hob was feeling better than he had in months.  

Finding Dream in the library was always hit or miss, but Lucienne would be there, and if Dream was uninterested in being disturbed, had never minded him curling up with a book in one of the comfy chairs by the floor to ceiling windows.  Still whistling, Hob stepped into the library, heading for the massive sorting desk that Lucienne manned as new books came in by the thousands.  He knew that some of them found their own places, while others needed to be sorted accordingly.  Hob also knew that some of the books did not get sorted, because they were put aside for Dream to read.  

(If he had been compiling a list of books that the magic of the Dreaming knew its master would enjoy, that was his own business.  It was also his own business that he was slowly, carefully, reading through them to perhaps discuss with Dream at a later date.)  

"Hob Gadling, you're early!" Lucienne called, striding around a corner, holding several books in her arms.  

Hob opened his mouth to answer and hummed, snapping it shut a moment later.  He chuckled.  "I think I fell asleep on the couch, which would explain why I'm here earlier than usual."  He shrugged.  "But I'm here now and that's what matters."  

Lucienne raised a pointed eyebrow and gestured.  "He's in the throne room."  

"Does he wish not to be disturbed?" Hob asked, forcing himself to remain still before he started moving in the direction of the throne room.  

"If he does or doesn't, I'm sure he'll be able to tell you," Lucienne said, shooing him in that direction.  "However, I am not allowing you to stand here when you're practically radiating happiness.  Last time the library tried to rearrange itself so every happily ever after story was at your fingertips.  I was undoing the mess for weeks."  

Hob winced and offered her a smile.  "It was not my intention."  In fact, he still didn't know how he'd done that, and when he'd mentioned it to Dream, it had gotten him one of the very few confused expressions he'd ever received from the Endless.  But it was fixed and that was all that mattered, really.  

"I'm aware," Lucienne said, fighting down a smile.  "Now go see him, I'm sure he'll be pleased."  

Hob grinned, bright and wide at her and caught sight of the faint hint of a smile before he turned and made his way to the throne room.  As usual, Dream was sprawled on the steps instead of the ornate chair and the sight made him want to laugh.  

"You know, it's a damn good thing that you're an anthropomorphic being, because if you weren't, you'd have horrific back problems from sprawling on these stairs of yours," Hob called as he jogged up the first dozen or so.  

Dream narrowed his eyes and looked down at himself.  "I am not... sprawled."  

"You look like the cover of an emo band album," Hob said, grinning despite himself, flopping onto the stair one below where Dream was sitting.  "Which, considering your favorite color, is very fitting."  

"You seem to be in a jovial mood," Dream observed.  Even the castle itself was responding to Hob's joy, the sun shining brighter through the windows, catching on the crystals that were now there, casting rainbows all around the cavernous room.  "Do you have cause?"  

Hob shrugged and leaned back, looking at the stars in the ceiling.  "I don't know," he offered, still smiling.  "It's just been a good couple of days.  My students have been invested in the discussions we're having, Lou proposed to his girlfriend in the Inn and they couldn't have been happier, the last books I've read have had very satisfying endings, and I've found not one, but two new excellent fish and chips restaurants within walking distance of the university."  

Without waiting for an answer, Hob kept talking, well-used to filling the silences for Dream.  "I was talking about how people, centuries ago, were excited about the invention of chimneys.  None of them had ever thought about it."  

"You were inordinately excited about them," Dream agreed, smiling faintly.  

"It's like..." Hob paused, waving a hand.  "It's a bit like challenging your world view, asking them to see things differently.  These past two centuries, things have leaped forward in a way that even I am astonished at, and I saw the previous five."  He blew out a breath and grinned up at the stars.  "For everything that is wrong and a struggle and a source of pain in the world, there's so much... joy and beauty, and just... hope."

"Such as?" Dream asked, raising an eyebrow.  

Hob laughed and kept staring up at the stars.  "We have the most amazing pictures into space now.  With the new telescope - we're seeing the history of stars light years away.  It's incredible."  He closed his eyes briefly, thinking about them.  "I watched a video of a man making a pinata entirely out of chocolate for nothing more than the sheer joy of his craft yesterday, it was fascinating.  He has hundreds more."  When Dream gave a snort, he opened up one eye and grinned at him.  

"Every day," Hob said, his voice softening.  "I find a hundred, a thousand new things to live for.  To explore, to find, to investigate, to learn.  I can't fathom a world where I am not consumed by this... excitement for the future."  He turned to look at Dream.  "There's so much hope, even among the struggle.  I love finding it, because it endures, when nothing else will."  

"The concept does permeate the unconscious and subconscious," Dream answered, looking up at the stars.  "The human phrasing, they are always together.  Hopes and Dreams.  They go hand in hand.  Hopes for the future, and the dream of making it into a reality."  

"What do you hope for?" Hob asked, glancing over at his friend.  His dearest friend, who didn't shy away from saying the word any longer, or from joining him at the New Inn once every few weeks for a few hours of conversation, or meeting him here, in the Dreaming itself.  "What does the King of Dreams and Prince of Stories dream of?"

Dream closed his eyes and swallowed, slowly, before reopening his eyes to stare at the stars.  "I don't dream."  

Hob chuckled.  "Could have predicted that answer, but that wasn't the only question I asked.  What do you hope for, Dream?  Surely even anthropomorphic personifications have hopes."  

"Hope."  Dream whispered the word, memory of the battle with Lucifer springing to mind.  What kills hope?  Nothing that even the Morningstar would put name to.

"Yeah," Hob said, nudging Dream with his shoulder.  "Hope.  Come on, you're not getting out of answering that easily.  What do you hope for?"  

Dream hummed softly.  There was a strange sort of power flooding through the air, but rather than malicious, it felt warmed, comforted, as though it had always been a part of the Dreaming, but had been waiting for him to Name it, give rise to it properly.  "I hope to continue to change for the better, to be better to those around me.  I hope to always have the honor of calling myself your friend.  I hope..." Dream trailed off, a faint melody echoing in the air.  

Beside him, Hob was glowing, almost golden, a contented smile on his lips.  When Hob's eyes met his, they were shining and Dream nearly leaned in.  

"You hope..." Hob whispered, watching Dream.  "For what?  You shall always have me as a friend, I give my vow, here and now.  But what else do you hope for?"  

Dream reached out and cupped his hand around Hob's cheek, sweeping his thumb along his skin.  "I hope to always be here to smile back at you when you smile at me."  The words felt too raw, too honest, and Dream nearly pulled back when Hob grinned at him, blindingly wide, making him smile in return, helplessly.  

Hob couldn't help but grin wider at the open smile on Dream of the Endless' face.  It made his heart turn over in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to pull Dream in for a kiss, to tell him just how much he had changed in the short time (comparatively) that Hob had known him.  "I always will be," he promised, soft and easy before leaning in-

His alarm blared.  

Hob sat up, flailing for his phone in his pocket, sinking back into the couch cushions with a sigh.  He stared up at the ceiling, feeling well-rested despite having slept on the couch and forced himself up.  At least it was the weekend, and if he wanted to spend the day lazing around or at the pub, there was not a damn soul who could stop him.  

Hindsight being what it was, now, he definitely, definitely should have noticed earlier.

~!~

Despite the newfound urge everyone had to smile back at him when he grinned at them, Hob found he was very much still capable of having a terrible, no good, very bad, day.  Where everything that could go wrong, simply would, and no amount of smiles in the world would fix things.  

First, he'd grabbed the wrong stack of papers to hand back to his students, which meant that he couldn't make their grades viewable online yet.  Second, he'd been damn near soaked under the sudden, torrential downpour that had started while he was walking to work.  Third, his umbrella had broken, adding insult to injury.  Fourth, he'd had to cover another colleague's class while they dealt with a family emergency and several of the students had done their level best to ensure he couldn't get through the powerpoint he'd had.  

Fifth...

Hob sighed and rubbed at his face.  Fifth, it had been more than a week since he'd last seen Dream in the Dreaming.  His Dreams had been abstract, nothing but fractals of light and flashes of something, and he ached to be able to sit and lay beneath the trees in Fiddler's Green and let his soul rest easy among the other Dreamers.  

He had half a mind to figure out a way to send Dream a message, but he knew how busy Dream was, and the last thing he wanted to do was be needy about seeing Dream when he'd just hoped...

He'd hoped that Dream was excited to see him again after their last meeting, but that was clearly and obviously not the case, and Hob didn't know what upset him more.  That he'd had his suspicions confirmed, or that he'd hoped for something more, that maybe Dream had been on the same page as him, that they were just taking their time getting there, re-learning each other, figuring out how to be friends, to see each other frequently...

Clearly, that kind of hope had been foolish.  He knew better.  He'd learned better.

-

After the longest day he’d had to force himself through in centuries, Hob wanted nothing more than to fall face first on his bed and sleep until everything was a distant memory. He could forget all of it, forget the way Dream’s eyes had shone, forget that he’d leaned in, the both of them smiling, hoping against hope that…

Well. It didn’t matter.

“Oh I assure you. What you desire matters so much that my dear brother has nearly torn himself in pieces over it,” A quiet voice purred. 

Hob tensed, putting the kitchen counter between himself and the person lounging obscenely on his couch. He frowned. “Who are you?  Why are you in my apartment?” 

“Dearest Dream hasn’t spoken of me?” They pouted in exaggeration, sighing as they shifted and sprawled once again.  “What a great pity, I’m far more fun than he is. My name is Desire, Hob Gadling.” They shifted and rolled off the couch in a smooth movement. 

Hob stared Desire down, his heart pounding too hard, watching as they stalked closer.  “What do you want with me?”  

Desire smirked, raising their eyebrows.  “I’m going to see how far my brother has to be bent before he breaks.”  They stepped forward, rolling their hips.  “Now do be a good boy and play along.”  

Hob opened his mouth to shout for Dream, but no sound came out, and he stared, eyes wide, as the room seemed to darken around the creature in front of him.  Their golden eyes glowed and he snarled, trying to shout again, but the dark was getting heavier and heavier around him, making him stumble.  He lost sight of the apartment, and a low, deep chuckle echoed everywhere around him.  

“Let’s see how far he’s willing to bend for a human like you, Hob Gadling.”  

The rest of the world went worryingly black. 

Chapter Text

It was dark when he woke up.

Thankfully, not as dark as the strange inky blackness that Desire had used to knock him unconscious, but it was a strain to see much of anything at all.  Hob took a deep breath and forced his eyes open, taking in the wall he was chained to, the faint growls and fire in the distance, and the pressing sense of dread on his shoulders.  

Well, this wasn't good.  

Hob opened his mouth to try to shout, but once again no sound came out and he made a low, dark noise in his throat.  Dammit, of course he still couldn't reach out to Dream with his voice, which meant that wherever he was, he was going to be stuck here unless someone else found a way to get to him.  And he couldn't die, no matter how much they tortured him.  

"This is him?  You're certain?"   A pointed, extended pause.  "He's... utterly unremarkable."  

Hob lifted his head, but the blinding bright light that greeted him had him flinching away and staring at the floor again.  He sucked in a pained breath, before glaring at whoever the hell was standing in front of him.  And, because he had no words and was only human, he stuck his tongue out at the entity and scowled.  

"...unimpressive."  

Hob could hear the shifting of armor that likely indicated a shrug and tried to get a good look at whatever being had ordered him tied to a wall like this, scowling at it.  Instead, he stuck his tongue out again and blew a raspberry. 

When the blow came and struck him across his face, he groaned, but leaned into it so his jaw wouldn't break.  Easy enough, he'd done it a dozen times or more over the years.  And since it was looking more and more like he might be stuck here for a while, he'd need to preserve himself in every way that he could.  

"Do you know where you are, you insignificant human?"

The blinding light had walked closer, and now her voice was soft and reverberated with power, the same way that Dream's did when he was hovering between appearing more human and being one of the Endless.  He blinked hard against the light and turned his face up to look at her, raising one mocking eyebrow since he knew that he still didn't have access to his voice.  How the hell was he supposed to answer that when he couldn't talk?  

She smiled, cruel and wicked.  "You're in Hell."

Hob glanced around.  That certainly did explain all the fire and brimstone.  

"You're trapped.  With no way to call for help, no way to be found, and no one to come for you."  She trailed a finger along his jaw.  "By the time we are done with you, nothing of whatever the Dream Lord sees within you will survive."  

Hob snorted, the noise oddly muffled by whatever spell was keeping him mute, but it got the point across and he saw her eyes narrow.  He'd endured far worse, and whatever they were going to throw at him today was nothing that he had not already survived in some fashion in the waking world.  She pulled away and glared at him and he rolled his eyes.  Dramatic villains were best left in movies, in his opinion.  

She stepped back, her eyes narrowed contemptuously.  "Make it hurt," she ordered, her voice soft.  "I want him broken.  No hopes or dreams for him of escape.  The sooner you can manage it, the more you will be rewarded."  

Hob lost track of time after that.  He closed his eyes and let himself drift deeper into his mind, away from what was happening to him.  Technique he'd learned in the 1960's when the nightmares from the world wars plagued him to the point of sleeplessness.  Allowing yourself to become un-tethered from your body was a way to escape even the most excruciating pain.  

However, they didn't let him sleep.  Which meant they knew.  They knew he'd escape to the Dreaming and call for help, even if Dream couldn't come here.  Hob stared straight ahead, unblinking, and allowed his mind to drift.  

If they wanted to rid him of his hope, his joy and zest for life... it would take them far far longer than they would expect.  And Dream, it would not take him long to realize that Hob was missing.  They saw each other so frequently now, each time enough to send a spike of happiness into his heart, soon his friend would be searching for him.  

-

Dreams were always a funny thing, and Hob wished that he'd paid more attention when Dream had spoken at length about how they worked the way they did and why.  More than anything else, he wished he'd learned the art of falling asleep with his eyes open so he could at last get some respite.  But no, he was not meant for that.  

But Dream would come for him.  He let himself smile and heard the demons nearby screech when he did.  When they moved away from him to work over other prisoners, he hummed every and any song that he could think of.  He couldn't sing, not with his voice taken from him like this, but he could still hum.  Dream would be looking for him.  Dream would find him, all he had to do was keep hoping.  That was all.  Easy.  

-

The problem with a sky that held no sun and didn't darken with stars was that there was no way to tell time and how much, if any at all, had passed.  Hob had tried to keep the time, especially in the beginning, but now it spiraled away from him, far outside any of his control.  His captors came to him, again and again, and each time, Hob retreated away from the horror that they seemed so determined to make him suffer through.  

He didn't see the lady, (had that been the devil?) again, thankfully.  Without her, the demons were lazy and left him alone more often than not, since he was well used to withstanding anything they were attempting to put him through.  He got the sense they were bored, too, clearly restless as they stalked between rooms.  

The worst part of it all was that he couldn’t sleep, and the longer he went without sleep, the harder it became to concentrate on being present where he was.  He’d blink, a demon in front of him, sneering at him, mocking him, and then the next blink they were gone, and he was alone in the semi-darkness, fires burning in the distance.  Being able to hum, just enough to pick out a tune was the only thing keeping him grounded, but even then, he could feel him slipping in exactly what he could see and what felt real. 

In the back of his mind, he could hear Dream scoffing about using real as a descriptor, when reality was so far beyond human comprehension that he could never fully understand it.  The thought, amongst the rotten egg scents and pain, made him grin and lean back against the wall, thinking of it.  He’d never seen his friend so animated, and it had been a joy to see.  He hoped that he would get the chance to see it again. 

He drifted, and tried to keep track of time with the songs he was singing, but it was impossible to do that for long.  Instead, Hob let himself drift, reminding himself that he should not give up hope, Dream would find him.  Dream was going to find him, and would find a way to bring him back.  They'd talked about that, at the beginning, when he'd first come back from his absence.  

Hob had never been as angry at someone as he was hearing what Burgess and his son had done to Dream.  Knowing that they had faced vengeance was a small reassurance, and he didn't hesitate to promise (and mean it with every fiber of his being) that if Dream disappeared on him again, he would tear apart the waking and dreaming world to find him.  His friend had been shocked, almost surprised by the conviction, but Hob wasn't willing to back down from it.  It was the truth, and he meant it with everything in him.  

And then... then Dream had promised him the same.  His voice had been soft, undercut with power, showing just how much he meant it.  But if he ever had need, he had promised to ask Dream for help, to call out to him so he could be there.  Hob breathed out slowly, imagining shouting Dream's name from the deepest parts of Hell, hearing it echo.  Dream had gone to hell for his Helm, but maybe it was too much to expect that he would come here for a friend?  

Hob breathed out slowly and began to hum another song, his vision sparking at the edges.  No, he wasn't going to fall for that trap, even within the confines of his own mind.  Dream would come for him, because they were friends and neither of them could stand to see the other captured.  He knew that, as sure as he did that keeping that hope would sustain him better than anything else.  

Dream was coming for him.  He believed that.  He hoped for it with his entire being.  Dream would come for him and then... well.  Hope never dies, especially in the face of rather pretty anthropomorphic beings.  Hob giggled and sagged in the chains against the wall, the tune he was humming growing softer as he started to retreat into his own mind again.  

-

A giggle brought him back to his prison, and Hob blinked, trying to think through the thick fog that had descended on his mind after so much lack of sleep and stared at the sight of the girl in front of him.  He grinned at her, the bright colors of her clothes enough to make him feel lighter in this dark and dingy place.  He waved and felt his heart soar when she waved back.  

Something eased in his chest, a tightening he hadn't even realized was there.  If she could be here, offering him something as simple as a smile, a moment of kindness, well, that was more than enough to keep going.  He relaxed and sagged more into the chains, trying to breathe easier, but everything had started to hurt in ways that he was constantly aware of.  

"YOu'Re NoT oNe Of MiNe!  YoU'rE nOt AnY oF oUrS, dEsPiTe BrOtHeR tRyInG!  WhY aRe YoU hErE?  ArE yOu StUcK?  YoU cAn BrEaK fReE!  ChAiNs ArE eAsY."  

Hob blinked at her in surprise and opened his mouth to try to respond and hated the reminder that not a word would escape, only the faintest of noises and he sighed, gesturing as best he could with his hand.  

"Oh YoU aRe StUcK-sTuCk!  No WoNdEr!  BuT yOu’Re STiLl So BrIgHt AnD pReTtY!  No WoNdEr ThEy KeEp YoU hErE!"  She spun in a circle and tilted her head at him.  "I bEt I cAn hElP!"  

Hob grinned again and nodded, glad when she danced forward, pirouetting and dancing.  His muscles ached and he wished that he could move like she was, he'd missed dancing, when was the last time he'd danced?  It'd been so long.  Too long, he'd probably have to relearn.  

She stopped in front of him and bit down on her lip, rocking on her heels.  "I kNoW DeSiRe sAiD nO, bUt YoU'rE sO pReTtY, aNd I LoVe PrEtTy ThInGs.  EvEn BrOkEn, I sTiLl KnOw PrEtTy!"  

Hob's eyes widened and he stared at her, waiting to see what she'd do.  If she was related to Desire, and to Dream, then that meant...

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in a pout, stomping her foot.  "StUpId RuLeS!  I cAn'T tAkE yOu DoWn.  ThEy WoN't LeT mE.  I hAtE rUlEs!"  She turned on her heel and spun herself into a sitting position, huffing.  "HoW dO I HeLp WhEn I CaN't HeLp?"

Hob watched her think, standing in front of him, blinking slowly at her as she got more and more annoyed, before all of the sudden, her eyes lit up and she stood up and danced in her spot.  

"I kNoW, I kNoW!  StAy RiGhT tHeRe!  I cAn HeLp!" And with a pop, she disappeared.

Hob frowned and let his eyes flutter shut, trying to draw breath to help him keep focused, to let this moment of clarity go on for a little longer, but as much as it had heartened him to see her smile, he was still stuck here, with no way out.  But Dream was coming.  He had to hope that his friend was coming, he would not give up hope.  He didn't give up hope for more than one hundred and thirty years, and he was not about to give up hope on him now.  

He focused on humming, smiling as he did, right up until a demon jostled him and he stared, still humming.  Hob wasn't going to stop until they tried to make him stop.  

"I haven't heard that song in... a long time."  The demon's voice was gruff, and low.

Hob, startled, stopped humming, staring at him.  The demon made a low, pleading noise, and he immediately started up with it again.  

The demon pulled out a knife and pointed it against Hob's throat.  "I'm going to remove the spell on your throat so you can talk.  I want you to sing that song for me.  You try to sing anything other than the lyrics, I slit your throat and we see how long it takes you to heal from that."  The demon pressed it tighter.  "Understand?"

Hob blinked and smiled, grinning at the demon.  He nodded, even against the knife.  His next breath was so easy his chest heaved with it and he gasped, his head falling back in relief.  Tears came to his eyes and he chuckled, savoring the full noise of the sound.  

"Sing," the demon demanded.  

It was easy to see the way they were quivering, their eyes desperate and eager.  And deep beneath the burnt and scarred skin, Hob could see the piece that mattered.  The hope that even demons would cling to, to give them anything, everything, to try to survive what they were constantly surrounded by.  

Hob took a deep breath, inhaling slowly, and began to sing.  It started out quiet, a low, deep crooning note, and he was grinning before he even reached the end.  He took another breath and kept singing, louder and louder, using every ounce of training from theatre, vocal classes, and teaching to make sure his voice carried.  His head fell back to lean against the wall, the demon in front of him no longer as important as the song he was singing.  

He didn't stop as soon as he finished the demon's request.  He launched into another one, laughing, smiling, grinning as he sang the words, letting his voice rise and fall with the music only he could hear.  Around them, the torture fields were going quiet - there were no screams, everyone was listening.  Everyone was riveted, and everyone, every demon and soul, was hoping that he didn't stop, and it was enough to keep him going.  It made him feel powerful.   He could give them this.  Even in Hell, even a prisoner of the devil herself, he could give them this.  

Especially if he got to give them a little irony along with it.  

Above him, in what he knew was Lucifer's castle, Hob could hear a commotion, which meant that he didn't have long now.  He picked his song carefully, watching the demon who had freed his voice scurry away.  Breathing in deeply, he sang a song that had no reason to belong in Hell.  He sang, pouring his heart and soul into every word, listening to them echo around hell.  

When Lucifer swooped down, her wings spread and anger burning in her eyes, Hob glared at her and sang louder.  The lyrics burned here, but that only made them more fitting for how they swelled in his chest as he braced himself for her to come even closer.  As the last hallelujah, a perfect blasphemy for hell fell from his lips, echoing in the space around them, Hob smirked at her.  

There were demons hiding in the shadows nearby, but they clearly had no interest in interfering or doing much of anything at all, which left him, truly, one option.  Hob tossed his filthy hair out of his face and raised an eyebrow.  "Hope you've been well, Lucifer.  How are things with that whole torturing me until I break plan?"  

A familiar giggle echoed behind Lucifer and Hob had only an instant to see the little girl from before, waving at him and smiling widely.  He waved back at her, but then Lucifer was stalking closer, power and fury curled around her, a mix of fire and shadow.  Hob grinned up at her, unafraid.  Not many humans could say they faced down the devil, and he had no intention of dying, not here, not even like this.  

"I hope you know you haven't got a chance of breaking me," Hob interrupted as she opened her mouth.  "I'm too stubborn, you see.  And hope's a funny thing, even in Hell."  

Lucifer's gaze was ice, her wings snapping violently behind her.  "You are foolish enough to believe that there is hope here?  In Hell?"   Her voice trembled with power and drowned out the sound of all else.

Hob smiled again, leaning back into the chains, his voice rising in power to match hers.  He wasn't going to question where it was coming from, not when she looked unnerved for the first time.  "Hope thrives here," he challenged, his eyes flashing.  "Hope for a respite from the pain.  Hope for release, hope for victory against those who oppose you."   When Lucifer's mouth dropped open, he kept going.  "Hope for advancement in the ranks, hope to be noticed by you, ruler of the realm."   He swayed, his eyes going far away as he looked past her, to something he could see only echoes of. 

Lucifer was about to respond, to strike him down in any way that she could when all of the sudden, Hob felt his awareness shift just a fraction.

"And you lost to Hope, didn't you?" He asked, not needing an answer.  He could feel the echoes of Dream's power here .  "Hope is not something even you are willing to destroy.  You can't afford to, it would destroy you utterly.  It cannot die."   Hob stopped to grin and sway a little on the chains, his head spinning.  "Just like me!"   He rattled the chains in emphasis and let out a hoarse laugh.  

In front of him, Lucifer was gathering power, her eyes dark flames, her face twisted in rage and fury.  Hob braced himself for the blow when his awareness snapped into focus and tilted, yanking his attention to the side.  

Two cells over, a tortured soul was singing. It was raw and off-key. But it was a song.

Hob closed his eyes and felt a surge of power rushing under his skin that he didn't know what to do with, or what it meant, but it was there and growing stronger by the second.  In the distance, another, breaking into a loud song just like he had.  Voices rising above the screams, the fire, hope, echoing in even the darkest pits of hell.  

Further in the distance another. Then another.

Hob opened his eyes to stare at Lucifer, at the shock on her face.  "See?" Hob whispered. "Hope springs eternal, even in Hell."  And now the ghost, the faint hints that he had been seeing of a battle waged snapped into focus and if Hob were a better man, perhaps he wouldn't have grinned in glee.  

"After all, Lucifer Morningstar," He breathed the words, reverberating and echoing almost as his song had, their weight a palpable thing settling into the air, his eyes shining in the darkness.  "What kills Hope?"  

The question lingered in the air for so long, Hob barely registered Lucifer moving and when she did, he was frozen and unconscious for the first time in who knows how long.  There was a snarl, an order to take him away, and then he was being carried, brought to the gates.  His body was a mass of pain and he wanted nothing more than to collapse and perhaps never move again, but he had to get somewhere safe, he had to try.  

He was dropped outside the gates in a heap, and dragging himself to his feet, through the towering gate doors that slammed shut behind him took energy Hob knew he didn't really have to use.  Ahead of him, the path was endless and he couldn’t make himself take the next step.  Instead, he fell back against the rocky wall beside the gate, dirt and grime caked over him and leaned back.  

Away from the power of Hell, away from the force that had been keeping him awake for however long it had been, Hob fell asleep almost the instant his eyes were shut.  He wanted to sob in joy when he felt his mind sink deeply, breathing in deep.  

Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was Dream's shocked face, his eyes shining silver-bright with the wild hope in them.  Hob grinned, despite himself, despite his exhaustion.  He'd never seen Dream look more beautiful than this, his hope and joy written all over his face.  "Hello dove," he croaked.  He wanted to reach up and push some of the hair out of Dream's face, but even standing with Dream's help felt like too much.  

He swayed under the beautiful willow in Fiddler's Green, unable to look away from his friend, who hadn't said a word, and was still staring at him in shock.  "Had hoped you'd find me, dear friend," Hob whispered, his knees giving out, pitching him forward as he collapsed in Dream of the Endless' arms. 

Chapter Text

Dream caught Hob easily, cradling him in his arms, transporting them to the castle an instant later, the Dreaming fluctuating around his flare of power.  "Lucienne!"  His shout echoed through the entire palace as he brought Hob to the throne room, the heart of the Dreaming, where he would be safest, where no one would get to him.  

"My lord, what is-oh!" Lucienne fell into quick stride beside Dream.  "What happened?  Haven't you been looking for him for weeks?"

"I don't know," Dream snarled, moving faster down the hall, shadows crawling around him.  "I felt him enter the Dreaming, but he did not feel as he should.  He managed to say a few words before collapsing."  

Lucienne tilted her head, frowning.  "How is he still in the Dreaming if he's asleep?"

"Because he's not asleep," Dream stated, carrying Hob up the stairs, gesturing for Lucienne to come with him.  "His mind has escaped here, and now hides from itself, though whether due to pain or other forces I'm unsure.  I don't know where his body is in the waking world, either, so we don't know if he will remain here."  

Lucienne pressed her lips together.  "I believe, by process of elimination, it is possible to know precisely where he was, and where his body may still be, my lord."  

Striding past his throne, into his chambers, Dream carefully, carefully laid Hob down on his bed and ensured he was as comfortable as possible, changing his clothes for comfort before tucking him into the blankets.  He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the top of his hair.  "You will sleep safely here, Hob Gadling," he promised, before standing to face Lucienne again.  

"Where?" he demanded, his voice shards of ice as he closed the door to his rooms behind him.  Hob would be safe there, and he would know in instant if he woke again.  

"It's been almost three weeks.  If he'd been trapped in the waking world - I suspect by the time you found him here, he wouldn't have been coherent," Lucienne said, opening the book by your side.  "Which offers very limited options.  One of your siblings realms, or..."

Dream closed his eyes and felt rage well up in him, white-hot and blinding, the very walls of his castle trembling.  "Or hell," he finished.  

"Yes," Lucienne agreed, her voice soft.  

Dream stared into the distance across his kingdom.  If Hob was in Hell, storming the gates to rescue him would be tantamount to a declaration of war, and it was not one that he could afford, not so soon after rebuilding.  He snarled again, spinning on his heel, the windows of the gallery shattering all at once, glass spinning through the air before it rained to the floor.  "Hell has the tools to keep him from me indefinitely.  It is a common punishment, and Lucifer would know he would call for my help.  Why allow me to see him now?  Like this?"  

Lucienne cleared her throat.  "To have you make a mistake, and act without thinking, my lord."  

A vicious, rumbling growl escaped Dream and sand began to swirl around him menacingly, his fingers elongating into claws that he imagined sinking into the Morningstar, ripping her smile from her face.  "I will not leave him there!"

"No one has suggested that you should.  But you need to be cautious.  Figure out where he is.  Perhaps start with waking him.  He is aware of your realm, lucid dreaming should be well within his capabilities," she continued.  "If he can remember where he is, perhaps we can find another way to help him."  

Dream dug his fingernails into his palms, breathing deep the fury that demanded more, that demanded retribution of the Morningstar for the torture she had visited upon Hob already.  Hob, who didn't deserve any of this, was only being attacked like this because of him, it was his fault-

A tinkling giggle, and a reach out of a power he had not felt in a long time had him spinning on the staircase, staring at the entrance to his gallery.  He held his hand to keep Lucienne from asking a question, and let his power reach back with a small nudge.  "Sister?" he whispered.  

"I hAvE yOuR-bUt-NoT-qUiTe-YeT hUmAn!  He EsCaPeD HeLl AlL oN hIs OwN.  He SiNgS sO pReTtY.  BUt I CaN't TaKe HiM hOmE, hE's SlEePiNg.  DiD yOu FiNd HiM?"  

Dream's breath caught, he stood, frozen, staring into the distance as Delirium's voice rang across his senses, pleasant and discordant all at once, all tangled together.  "Where, where are you?  I will come bring you both home, where are you, Del?" The nickname that he hadn't used since Delirium had become what she was escaped him, and Dream ached at her delighted laugh he got in return.  

"OuTsIdD tHe GaTeS!" She sing-songed.  "I mAdE sUrE tHeY cAn'T sEe HiM, bUt I CaN't MoVe HiM.  I CaN't HeLp.  StUpId RuLeS!"  

Dream breathed in deep.  "Will you watch over him until I can get there?  I will come as quickly as I can."  

"HuRrY bIg BrOtHeR!"

The connection was severed an instant later and Dream was moving down the stairs, almost running.  "Matthew!" he shouted, his voice a whip crack of lightning across the castle.  He heard Lucienne running to keep up and paused at the gate, turning to look to her.  "You are in charge until I return," he ordered.  

"Here boss!" Matthew said, soaring in to land on Dream's shoulder.  

Dream poured out his sand, envisioning the entrance to hell and felt his sand whisk them away.  They would have to hurry, but luckily, he had walked this path far more recently, and while Lucifer could barr the gates to him, she could not stop him making this journey. 

"What, Hell?  Again?  Why are we here?" Matthew asked, tucking himself in a little tighter against Dream's shoulder.  "Thought even demons dreamed, you told Lucifer that, how was he hidden here?"  

A thunderous growl echoed in his throat as he joined the line of the damned, following them into the space, cloaking himself in his rage as he moved as quickly as the line would allow.  "They didn't allow him rest.  By refusing to allow him rest, he could not escape to the Dreaming to warn me.  I suspect they did far worse to him."  He quickened his pace, striding past other souls on their trek to the gates.  

The last time he had been here, he'd been at a fraction of his current power, and though he'd been motivated to recover his Helm, it was almost nothing compared to the fear that kept him moving forward until at last the gates were towering over them.  He moved past to let the souls through and frowned, looking around the edge of the gates.  

"We're not going in?" Matthew asked, letting out a caw.  "Don't we need to go in there to get him?"  

"No," Dream answered.  "He is not there, he's been removed from Hell for reasons I don't understand."  He looked again, forcing himself to slow, and caught sight of a glimmer of power near a boulder.  His eyes widened and he moved, to the rapidly deteriorating rush of Delirium's power.  He stepped in and barely bit down the wounded noise.  

Hob was, Hob was...

Dream swallowed, anger making the shadows around him grow, more vicious, loud, and violent by the second.  They had done this to him.  The ghostly pallor, the bruises around his eyes that indicated so little sleep as to drive any man mad, and evidence of other torture.  Reaching out, he carefully, gently, cradled Hob in his arms.  

"Holy shit, he doesn't look good.  He gonna be okay boss?" Matthew asked as Dream began to move - faster than any being was able to walk, away from the gates.  

"We are very lucky that my sister has refused him her gift," Dream said, pressing his face to Hob's hair.  "But for now, his mind rests easy in the Dreaming while his body attempts to heal."  

Matthew let out another caw.  "Where are you going to take him?  Not like he can go to a hospital or something like that."  He hopped on Dream's shoulder.  

Dream's expression tightened.  "I am going to take him to his home, I have been there."  Once he was far enough from the gates, he drew out his sand and looked to Matthew.  "Return to the Dreaming, then find me at the apartment above the New Inn.  Tell Lucienne I have found him, and that no one, on pain of every bit of wrath I am capable of, is to disturb him as a Dreamer."  

For once, Matthew did not argue, and Dream was glad for it as he poured sand around them.  Carefully, he brought them to Hob's apartment, and into his bedroom.  Hob's body needed rest, and needed time to recover.  Extensive time.  As soon as Dream set him down against the pillows, he turned to the rest of him.  

Moving slowly, not wanting to disturb what was his first sleep in weeks, Dream stripped him of his filthy clothing and used magic to clean the remaining grime off of him.  He was still too gaunt and frowned, looking at him.  Re-clothing him did nothing to ease the look of pain around his eyes and the way he was emaciated.  

He would have Matthew summon Constantine and have her watch over him.  She would be able to get him the other help that would allow him to heal.  Dream moved some of Hob's hair out of his face, stroking his fingertips along his cheek, touching him slowly, reverently, pleased to see that his features were relaxing into sleep, true sleep.  

"You are safe now," he promised.  "I will allow no harm to come to you again, not here, or in the Dreaming."  Dream reached out to take Hob's hand and squeezed it, watching as his friend, his dear friend, his only friend, settled into his blankets and began the first small steps to recovery.  

Dream did not know how long it took Matthew to return from his errand, but once his raven had rejoined him, he quickly shook his head at the mention of them leaving.  "I need you to find Constantine.  Tell her I will pay triple whatever she asks, and have her come here.  She will need..." he paused, frowned.  "She will need to quietly bring any tools to help a human heal from exposure, starvation, exhaustion, and sleep deprivation."  

"Is that... what happened to him?" Matthew asked.  "No wonder he looks like a skeleton."  

"Go," Dream growled, narrowing his eyes at the raven.  

"Going, going, don't get your panties in a twist boss."  

Dream turned his attention back to Hob and squeezed his hand again.  There was something tight in his chest that was only just starting to unravel now that he had found Hob, body his body and mind now safe.  "You will heal, now.  I will ensure it," he promised, sitting beside him.  

When Constantine arrived, a grim look in her eyes, a large duffel bag at her side, Dream opened the door and closed it quickly behind her.  

"One of these days you'll need to tell me-" She crossed the threshold into the bedroom and paused, letting out a low whistle.  "Christ, how is he not dead yet?"  

"I will pay whatever price you ask, in whatever currency you deem, to keep him alive, and to keep him safe until he wakes," Dream said.  "You are to leave this apartment untouched, and I will know if you have touched or changed anything in it, and care for him."  

Johanna Constantine's eyes widened and she raised her eyebrows.  "Who is this guy?"

Dream looked down at Hob and smiled, faintly, just enough.  "My friend," explained.  

"Riiiiight.  Because friends definitely look at each other like that," she said, rolling her eyes.  "But all right, I'll keep him safe and protected.  I can draw some sigils in the room, right?"  

"Yes," Dream agreed.  "I will add my own protections, but I cannot stay here.  I need to tend to his mind in my realm."  

Constantine blinked and opened her mouth before snapping it shut.  "You know what, I'm just going to pretend I understood what that meant and agree so I get paid."

"A wise choice.”  

Constantine sighed and put her hands on her hips.  “All right, well, I’ve got what I need here, and I’ll get an IV into him for fluids and shit.  But you need to tell me why we can’t just take him to a damn hospital.”  

Dream turned to stare at her, unblinking.  “He cannot go to a hospital.”  

“Tell me why,” Constantine said, crossing her arms over her chest.  

Dream scowled and turned back to Hob, staring down at him, hoping that his dear friend would forgive him this truth, in time.  “He could have been there for another year and while he would have looked worse, he would not have died.  While his mind might have been shattered, his body would survive on, in perpetuity."  

Constantine's frown deepened.  "So, he... can't die?"  

"Yes."  

"Right," she said, breathing in deep.  "Yeah I can see why that would rule out a hospital.  All right.  I'll keep him safe.  But you're paying me in gems, not cash."  

Dream's lips twitched.  "As you wish," he agreed, before stepping into the shadows back to the Dreaming.  He could feel Hob beginning to wake, and he would be there, no matter the state he was in.  He stepped into his chambers, and took in the sight of Hob still spread out on his bed.  There was no distress in his face, but his exhaustion was clear.  

Moving closer, Dream sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully combed some of Hob's hair out of his face.  With both his body and mind worn down like this, it would take time for him to begin to heal.  Time that he could have in the Dreaming.  Until then, he would safeguard Hob Gadling and allow him to heal in the deepest parts of the Dreaming, here, in his sanctuary.  

It was also easy, as with the nature of Dreams, to focus and alter the flow of time in the room, in the small space that was separate from all the others.  Spinning around them, Dream accelerated time, as was sometimes the nature of Dreams, until Hob Gadling's eyes were fluttering open.  

"Wha... Dream?"  Hob blinked and then blinked again, trying to focus.  There were long fingers in his hair, combing through it slowly, making him sag in closer to the comforting touch.  How long had he gone without some kind of touch like this?  

"You're safe," Dream said, meeting Hob's eyes readily.  "Your body is home, safe in your apartment, and your mind is safe here, at the Heart of the Dreaming."  

Hob let out a quiet groan, fluttering, before trying to push himself upright.  "Fuck, I feel like I've been run over by a tank."  

"Careful," Dream scolded, helping Hob into a sitting position against a mass of pillows that had not been there seconds previous, supporting him easily.  "You are still recovering from what was done to you."  

"Right," Hob said, letting out a gusty sigh.  "Hell.  Fuck.  That's right.  I was in Hell."  

"You were," Dream agreed.  "Because of me."  He sighed at the reminder and checked to make sure the pillows were appropriately supporting Hob.  "I suspect this was done to get back at me, after I embarrassed Lucifer Morningstar."  

A flash of memory at the end of his time in Hell echoed across his mind and Hob hummed, trying to focus.  "This isn't your fault.  It's not your fault they took me.  I wasn't expecting it.  I'll be ready next time."  

Dream's eyes flashed.  "I will not allow them to take you again," he promised, his voice low, certainty echoing in it.  

"Even if they do," Hob huffed, leaning back against the pillows, his eyes fluttering shut.  "I know how to get out now, so it's not like they'd keep me there."  He paused, humming, thinking about it.  "Think I might actually be banned from Hell."  

Dream frowned.  "There's no such thing."  

Hob snickered and forced one eye open to look at Dream.  "They threw me out.  They removed the spell that didn't let me sleep and the first thing I did was run to you."  He breathed out slowly and leaned just a little closer to Dream, his hands aching with the urge to reach out and touch.  "They knew.  They would have kept me there forever had I not..." he trailed off.  

"Had you not... what?" Dream asked, staring at him.  "You were able to negotiate your release?"  It was thought to be an impossibility for any human soul trapped in the realm.  

"Nope," Hob said, yawning.  "I pissed them off enough that they let me go."  He forced both eyes open to meet Dream's eyes, the way the inky black gave way to stars and galaxies in them.  "You're not the only one who can pick a fight with the devil, you know."  

Dream's eyes widened.  "You, you what?"  

Hob hummed out an affirmative.  "Got her right pissed, too.  She wasn't too pleased about that."  He yawned and shifted to lay on his side, his right hand pressed to the fabric of Dream's robe, tangling in it.  "How long was I down there?"  

"Three weeks," Dream admitted, his voice soft.  "I... I searched for you."  

Hob lifted his eyes to Dream of the Endless and felt the weight of those words, a shiver running down his spine.  He reached out and took Dream's hand, squeezing it gently.  "Thank you for looking for me.  I'm sorry I couldn't call out for you.  I tried, but they stole my voice as well as my ability to sleep."  

Dream clenched his eyes shut, shadows and power growing around him in fury at the knowledge of what Hob had suffered for his attitude to the ruler of Hell.  "I am sorry I failed you."  

"Hey," Hob said, squeezing Dream's hand, tugging on it until Dream was looking at him again.  "You didn't fail me.  I got kidnapped and thrown into Hell.  None of which is your fault."  He shifted his hand and cradled Dream's carefully in his.  "None of it is your fault, Dream.  And I'm here now.  You brought me here so I could be safe, right?"  

"I did," Dream agreed, staring at him.  "So your mind could heal after... everything."  

"Yeah, being unable to sleep for three weeks fucks with your perception of life," Hob agreed, yawning as he settled into the pillows again.  "But I'll recover and I'll heal, like I always do."  He smiled at Dream.  "And you can stop worrying, I'm safe, and here."  

A low rumble echoed in Dream's chest.  "I will destroy whoever did this to you.  Had you not been able to... do what you did..."

"Shhh, dove, none of that," Hob slurred, tiredness making it harder for him to focus and get the words out that he wanted.  "I sang.  It was enough to get me out, I sang."  

Dream blinked and stared in shock at Hob, even as he slumped over properly, falling straight back into an exhausted doze.  Somehow... song had gotten him out of Hell?  The reminder of Orpheus, and the similar circumstances had him muffling a sob and he pressed his hand to his lips.

~!~

The next time Hob woke up, Dream could easily see that he was much more alert, his eyes focused, rather than warped with a haze of pain.  Something in him eased at the sight, and the bright, sunny grin Hob graced him with immediately added to it.  

"So I didn't dream it!  You were here and you did find me!" Hob said, grinning. He pushed his fingers through his hair and flopped back against the pillows.  "I was disconnected from myself pretty badly at the end there, so I wasn't sure what I was making up and what I wasn't."  

Dream's lips twitched.  "Well, you are in the Dreaming at present, but I was able to find your body outside the gates of Hell and bring you home.  You are being tended to there, your body heals while your mind stays here, where I can keep it safe."  

Hob raised his eyebrows and his grin brightened.  "No nightmares for me about Hell?"  

"For now, I think having lived it is far too near a memory to force you to relive such things," Dream agreed.  "Do you think you are up to moving?"  

Hob leaned back against the pillows and let out a gusty breath.  "Yeah, going for a walk sounds great.  How long have I been out?  Or, uh."  He frowned, thinking.  "I think you said I was captured for almost three weeks?  How long has it been since then?"  

"In the Waking world, it has been another six days.  Your body is healing well, I have been to check on you," Dream said, watching him.  With a swirl of his cloak, he stood and turned to Hob, his not-a-heart clenching at the sight of him still in his bed and comfortably lounging there as though he belonged in the space.  

"And here?" Hob asked, raising his eyebrows.  "How long has it been here?"  

Dream's frown deepened.  "Time does not pass the same way in the Dreaming that it does in the Waking World.  But the damage to your mind - the damage caused by sleep deprivation is extensive.  I've been... assisting to help."  

"Assisting," Hob repeated.  "Which means what?"  

"I forced more time to pass to allow your mind proper time to heal, to match the speed at which your body would heal," Dream said, standing stiffly.  "I... I hope that you do not mind."  

Hob pushed his fingers through his hair and shook his head, sighing.  "Mind?  Why the hell would I mind?  Not only does it sound like you've saved my life several times over at this point, you're making sure I'm not going to have to deal with sleep deprivation recovery.  I've had that before, it's a bitch and a half."  

"Indeed," Dream agreed.  "But I did it without your consent.  I was... am concerned that you would not approve of my actions."  

"Dream," Hob sighed, throwing the covers back, a simple pair of breeches on his legs making him smile before he climbed out of bed and went to stand before his friend.  He reached out and took Dream's hands, squeezing them easily.  "My friend."  He paused, pointedly, and met Dream's eyes.  "Anything you have done in service of my care, my health, and my rescue requires no apology."  

Dream stared at the sincerity that poured off of Hob, the way his skin and eyes seemed to glow almost golden at the proclamation, all of it laced in a strange sort of power that he recognized but did not.  "I... thank you."  

"It's me that should be thanking you," Hob repeated, his voice soft as he squeezed Dream's hands.  "Now, how much more healing do you think I have to do?"  

"That... is up to you," Dream said, frowning.  "But perhaps we can test your stamina with a tour of my library?  Some of my..."  He paused, considering.  "There are those here in the Dreaming that would very much like to meet you."  

Hob raised his eyebrows and stared at Dream, unable to keep a grin down.  "There are people here that know who I am?"  

Dream cleared his throat.  "Yes.  Of course."  

"Right," Hob said, releasing Dream's hands with one last squeeze, before stretching, feeling his back and joints pop in a very satisfactory fashion before he turned to look around the room.  He blinked, realizing that they were, without question, in a bedchamber that did not belong to him, nor one that had ever belonged to him.  

"Hob?"  

Hob looked around the room again, taking in the different items scattered about and felt a surge of power beneath him, buoying him as his eyes caught on the balcony on the other side of the room.  He turned his attention back to Dream.  "Could I..." he gestured to the balcony.  

Dream tilted his head, curious.  "Of course.  You can see most of the Dreaming."  

Hob stepped towards the balcony, his clothes shifting to jeans and his favorite shirt and jacket as he stepped outside, warm sunshine hitting his face a second later.  He gasped, closing his eyes, tilting his face toward it.  Three weeks he'd gone without feeling or seeing the sun, three weeks unable to tell what time of day it was, unable to take a moment to appreciate the joy of this moment.  

One tear slid down his cheek, then another, then another.  Hob reached out to hold onto the banister on the balcony and blinked his eyes open, even as they ached under the bright sunshine.  Whether it was the nature of the Dreaming, or something else, Hob could see for miles, every type of terrain imaginable.  There were creatures flying through the sky, some with people on them, some not, and the landscape was flexing and changing as he watched it.

Compared to the desolation he had spent weeks trapped in, it was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen in his entire life.  Hob swallowed and wiped at his cheeks, trying to rid himself of the tear tracks, because he didn't, for a second, want Dream to think that he didn't love everything about the Dreaming.  How could he not, when this is what it was?  

When Dream came to stand beside him, Hob tightened his hand on the banister and sucked in a breath.  "Three weeks without the sun," he gasped.  "Without being able to tell whether it was night or day, not that it mattered.  Thinking that I might never see it again, not even in my Dreams."  

A stuttered out sob escaped him and Hob closed his eyes, the stone digging into his fingertips the only thing keeping him grounded enough to prevent collapse.  "I knew you'd come for me, but, but even then, sometimes, I wondered if I would survive long enough to see the sun again."  

"Hob," Dream called, his voice soft as he knelt beside where Hob was hunched over, struggling to breathe.  The single hand that he already had resting on Hob's back was doing nothing to pull his attention back to where it needed to be.  

"I'm sorry," Hob said, his voice catching in another sob.  "I didn't, don't think this is, this is because your realm isn't perfect, because it is, it's amazing, I can see it, and -"

"Hob Gadling," Dream intoned, reaching out to tug the immortal human into his arms, pulling him in close.  "Breathe," he ordered, his voice echoing with power.  

Hob reached out to tangle his fingers in Dream's cloak, his face pressed against dark fabric as he was held close.  He forced himself to take one breath, then another, then another.  Slow and measured, waiting for the panic to subside. “Right,” he panted, taking another breath.  Once his heart had started to beat at a more moderate pace, he relaxed a fraction.  “Sorry.”  

“You need not be sorry,” Dream said, still cradling Hob Gadling’s form in his arms, careful, aware of how delicate his mind was, even like this.  “I should have thought of this.”  

“It’s not your fault to not think of everything,” Hob said with a small huff.  He turned to look out across the Dreaming again, not trying to move from within the circle of Dream’s arms where they were kneeling on the ground, almost reclining.  “Your sister helped me escape.  I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting it.  When I saw her.  But I guess I was close enough to madness that it makes sense?”  

“Delirium was able to protect your body until I could find you,” Dream said.  “I owe her a debt I can never repay for keeping you safe while I came for you.”  He paused and carefully arranged them so Hob was leaning against him, the both of them looking out at the scenery across the Dreaming.  “What did she do to free you?”  

Hob took a steadying breath and leaned a little harder into Dream.  If his friend was not going to protest the two of them lounging here on his balcony, he was not going to reject the need for closeness clawing through his veins.  “I couldn’t speak, but I could hum.  I hummed every song I could think of, tried to keep time with them, for a while.  It was a small rebellion, but I kept at it.”  

Hob paused and then continued, his voice hoarse.  “I think she… she encouraged a demon to listen to me sing.  One released the spell on my voice and ordered me to sing the song I’d been humming.  So I did.”  

Dream clenched his eyes shut and held onto Hob tighter, tears threatening in his eyes as he listened.  “What then?” he asked, his voice a quiet rasp.  

Hob refocused on Dream, but his face was hidden, so he shifted and wrapped an arm around him, holding on just as tightly.  “I didn’t stop singing.  As loud as I could, as hard as I could.  That attracted the attention of Lucifer.  She’d promised to break me, to get back at you, but, well, clearly that wasn’t going according to plan.  I sang Hallelujah, mostly as a little extra fuck you to her.”  

"You sang... Hallelujah in Hell?" Dream asked.  

Hob snickered into Dream's shoulder at the incredulous tone of that question.  "Yeah.  Sucked too.  The words burned, I guess since it was effectively blasphemous or something?"

"I imagine," Dream agreed, reaching up to comb his fingers through Hob's hair, carefully rubbing at his scalp to offer what little comfort that he could like this.  "What happened after?  I imagine she wasn't pleased."  

"She wasn't," Hob agreed, frowning as he tried to remember.  "I don't... I don't remember exactly.  A lot of it's fuzzy, I think because she was trying to use power on me?  Or something?"  He shook himself.  "I kept interrupting her, and correcting her.  Goading her about how she couldn't break me."  His breath caught when Dream's arms tightened around him protectively and he smiled.  

"She is not a creature to be brought low by taunting," Dream told him, his voice soft and serious.  "That was dangerous."  

Hob hummed.  "I didn't have anything left to lose.  If she took my voice, and kept me awake and chained there, it wasn't like I could get to you.  Nor could she kill me, no matter what she did."  He let out a hard breath.  "But I remember what happened next.  Someone else started singing.  Then another voice, then another."  

Dream froze, his fingers tangled in Hob's hair.  "There was singing?  In Hell?"  

"Yeah," Hob whispered, his voice soft.  "It scared her.  I could see it.  I said something about how even hope thrives in hell, because that's what music is, sometimes, when you have nothing else.  That made her angry.  Next thing I remembered, I was sitting outside the gate, and collapsed beside it."  

Dream swallowed and held Hob as tightly as he dared to him, leaning down to press his face to Hob's hair, inhaling the scent of him.  "She could have tried to unmake you."  

Hob shrugged.  "No use worrying about it now, right, dove?  I'm here, you got my body, and my mind is chilling here with you until everything is back to sorts, right?"  

"And I am very glad of it," Dream agreed.  "You had me, you had all of us worried for your safety."

Hob let out a laugh and tilted his head back to look up at Dream.  At some point, the balcony beneath them had shifted, and Dream was leaning back against a statue that had not been there before, making it easy to stay curled against him.  "And here I only thought you worried about your work and your subjects," he teased.  

"You are very dear to me, Hob Gadling, in every way.  You are the first creature, in eons of existence, I have willingly called a friend, and my dearest friend at that."  Dream closed his eyes, his breath juddering out of his chest at the admission, even if it was the truth.  "Of course I was worried.  Had you remained lost much longer, I would have ripped apart every realm and every Dreamer in them seeking you out."  

Hob frowned and closed his eyes against Dream's chest.  Hearing it put like that, that Dream would tear apart the world for him, he wasn't worth that.  He was just a human who'd insulted Death in front of the right beings.  He wasn't worthy of that effort or that level of care from someone like Dream, from an Endless.  

Dream waited for Hob to say something, but as the silence stretched, he reached up and began to comb his fingers through Hob's hair again.  The motion was soothing for both of them, he suspected, and made it easier to relax around the conversation that they were having.  But the longer it went on, even as Hob curled against him, the more worried he became that he had somehow given offense to his friend.  

"Please forgive me if that was overstepping.  I am... I only wished to make you aware that I would not let anything happen to you if it was within my power," Dream said, stumbling over the apology.  

Hob shook his head.  "There's nothing to forgive.  I'd do the same for you, in a heartbeat.  I have my finger on the pulse of almost every occult organization in the Waking world these days, just in case one of them gets an idea of even attempting to touch you or one of your siblings."  He shrugged and smiled faintly.  "I'd have them all dead before two days had passed.  I won't let what happened to you happen ever again."  

Dream ached down through the very depths of his being at the devotion in those simple words.  That Hob would declare protection not only for him, but for any of his siblings who might be captured, that he would free them just as viciously, just as quickly.  He pressed his fingertips tighter to Hob's scalp and leaned down to kiss the top of his head before he thought too much of it.  The promise was a gift, and Hob knew it, and Dream would remind him of it as often as required.  

"I believe you," Dream responded, watching as the sun above them started to dip in the sky.  

It would have been easy, so very easy, to sink into the petting of his hair, the blink-and-you-miss-it kiss to the top of his head, and the arm around him that held him so tight that it sent a possessive thrill through him, and let that sweep him away.  But like this might be the only way to...

Hob blinked himself awake and shifted, just a fraction in Dream's arms.  How to begin this conversation without Dream running was the true question.  "I wish I'd done this for you after everything you went through," he admitted.  "I think you needed it, but I didn't know how to offer it when I hadn't seen you for so long."  

Dream closed his eyes and hummed, soft and quiet.  "I did."  He paused, before continuing.  "I still do.  Not as often as I did before, but..."  he squeezed Hob.  "Having you here like this, knowing you are safe, it helps.  It keeps my own memories away, and I can keep your dreams safe."  

"If I could protect you from your memories, I would," Hob swore, reaching out to tangle his fingers in the coat Dream wore, watching as galaxies twisted around his fingertips. 

Dream let out a small sigh and nodded.  "I've been... attempting to get better at asking for help, but."  He paused, pointedly.  "When I don't know what I need, that becomes more difficult.  I am an Endless, I shouldn't have to deal with..." he waved a hand.  

Hob hummed, settling against him again.  "Trauma can happen no matter what type of being you are, dove.  But if you need help, you can always come to me, you know I'll listen, or, if you need a distraction, talk your ear off."  

The silence between them grew for several long moments, agonizing in the stillness on the balcony before Dream forced himself to admit.  "I do."  The words felt heavy, an agonizing admittance of how much he needed Hob in his life in some fashion.  He depended on it in ways that were difficult to admit.  

Hob tilted his head back so he could look at Dream's jaw, where he was staring out at the Dreaming.  "You do, what?"  

"Come to you," Dream said, the words easier now that he'd made the first confession.  "When I am... out of sorts.  I come to you."  He hesitated.  "That... is what friends do, is it not?"  

Hob lifted his head from Dream's chest and looked up at him, the confusion and worry marring his face, unsure, never wanting to push more than he was willing to give.  He stared at Dream, meeting his eyes as they swirled with stars, a faint smile on his face.  He swallowed and shifted, just enough, still watching Dream.  

"It is," Hob agreed.  "When two people care about each other, they lean on each other.  When times are tough, when times are good, when they need someone, they are there."  Taking a deep, determined breath, Hob met Dream's eyes again.  "Don't run on me," he ordered.  

Dream blinked in confusion.  "Run on you?  Why would I leave?"  

Hob stared him down.  "Just, don't.  I promise I won't be upset, no matter what."  He could see the confusion building in Dream's eyes and shifted, straddling Dream's lap, catching the widening of his eyes.  He took a deep breath and let himself hope.

"Here's something I've learned about friends in my centuries of life," Hob started, watching Dream carefully.  "Friends are rarely willing to happily kill others for the sake of protection for each other.  Friends don't rescue each other from a Hell dimension and care for their every need in both the Waking and Dreaming."  When Dream frowned, clearly confused, Hob shifted closer to him.  

"Friends don't alter the bloody flow of time so they heal quicker, and friends do not, when one has a panic attack from PTSD, curl up on the balcony together and kiss each other's foreheads," Hob stared at Dream, at the emotion swirling in his eyes and felt the hope build in his chest, making his heart pound and his breath catch.  Hope had saved him in Hell, and maybe, maybe once more it would not lead him astray.  

"However," Hob continued, his voice softening as he reached out and wrapped his arms around Dream's shoulders, still gauging his reaction before he tangled his fingers into Dream's hair.  "I think all of that can be easily explained if you know that I view you as much more than a friend, much more than even my dearest friend."  He leaned in, rubbing their noses together.  "It is all right if you do not feel the same, dove, I expect nothing from you, but I cannot..."

Hob let out a small laugh, shaking himself.  "I cannot help hoping, so here I am, telling you the truth of all that I am, hoping against hope that you don't storm off to not see me for another century or two."  He swallowed, and then bared the last of his heart for Dream, because what was the point of secrets here, in the Heart of the Dreaming.  "But even if you did.  I would wait for you.  I will always wait, Dream.  I am always going to wait for you."  

Dream stared at Hob, the golden power clinging to him, in him, and around him, the way his very eyes seemed to be lit from within as he swayed closer, and let himself want, properly, for the first time in longer than he wanted to remember.  "Hob, I am a terrible being to care for."  He tried to keep his voice firm, and reasonable.  

"Oh you are," Hob agreed, grinning at Dream as he played with his hair.  "You are arrogant, prideful, vain, and prone to more dramatics than most teenage girls I have had the misfortune of interacting with."  He leaned in and kissed the corner of Dream's lips where they were turned down into a scowl, making his eyes widen.  It also succeeded in wiping the sullen expression off of his face, which was truly all that mattered in the moment.  

"But you are also kind," Hob said, his voice softening.  "You are gentle when the situation requires it, you are protective, and you care.  You care so much more than you ever want to let anyone see.  It keeps you safe, and I suspect it has for a very long time."  He moved one arm so he could stroke his fingers down Dream's cheek and along those cheekbones that he had admired dozens of times in the Waking world and his dreams.  

"Hob Gadling," Dream growled.  "This is ill-advised, any association between an Endless and a mortal-"  

Hob leaned in, brushing their noses together and felt Dream shiver.  "I'm not mortal," he reminded, quiet and careful.  "Neither of us are perfect, but we are both trying to be better, we are changing, and I don't know how you feel, love, but I know I am better around you than I am apart from you." 

His arms were around Hob Gadling and he wanted nothing more than to pull him in those last few inches, to take what he was so readily offering. But to do that would lead to Hob’s own ruin, and Dream knew that as well as he knew his function. “Every association-“ 

Hob chuckled, stroking Dream’s cheek again, staring into those star-bright eyes. “You can say relationship, love.”

Dream glared up at him, but allowed the correction. “Very well, relationship, I have ever been in, ends in tragedy. I would not, will not, see that happen to you. You deserve better.” It was the truth, and Dream could feel Hob shifting, getting ready to pull away and buried his heartache, his hope, all away. This was for the best, and it was what was right for Hob. 

Hob shifted back just enough so he could cup Dream’s jaw and hold him in place so he couldn’t look away. “Better,” Hob scoffed. “As though such a thing exists.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me, Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, your majesty. All of these relationships in your past. Were you friends with any of them?” 

Frowning, Dream shook his head. “I have told you as much.” 

Hob softened. “I know, love, and that’s my point. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. You are not going to surprise me by being sullen, or angry, or getting busy and working for a year.” He smiled and leaned in again, nuzzling their noses together. “You are not going to drive me away, Dream. I told you. I’ll wait. I have all the time in the world to wait.” 

“Why?” The word escaped Dream before he meant to give voice to it, and it echoed in the space between them. “You, you have the world at your fingertips, and-”

“And I want you,” Hob finished. “I wish to be with you.” When Dream’s eyes fell shut he pressed in just a fraction closer. “I am in love with you,” he finished. 

“I am a poor choice of love for a man with your generous heart,” Dream answered, unable to look away from Hob, from the declaration he had meant with his entire being.

Hob shifted and cupped Dream’s face in his palms, stroking over his cheek until his eyes fluttered open, and the scared hope in his eyes made something deep in his chest sing. “That is a matter of opinion, love.  But like it or not, you are my choice.”  He leaned in, brushing their lips together, just the briefest of touches before he leaned back a few inches to continue to stare at him.  “The only part that still matters is your choice, Dream.”  

There’s a golden ring glowing in Hob’s eyes, and it was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen, but even then, none of it could compare to the sad, resigned smile on Hob Gadling’s face.  He believed he knew the answer coming to him, and… 

And…

The longer the moment stretched, the more Hob’s face fell into resigned understanding, and the tidal wave of want, and every other inspired emotion swirling in him became more and more impossible to hold back.  How was it possible that felt so much for the human in his arms?  How was it possible that despite all of his experiences that knew better, that told him what a horrible idea this would be, that it would end in ruin and he would lose the dearest person in his life...

That he hoped this would be different?  That Hob Gadling, in all his remarkable nature, would somehow, some way, be different.  

"Dream," Hob called, waiting for his friend to refocus on him, starry fractals brought into sharp focus as they landed on him again.  "It's all right."  He leaned in and kissed Dream's cheek gently, softly.  "You're not going to lose me.  I will always be your friend.  That is never going to change."  

The aching tenderness, the resignation in those words had rain clouds gathering in the Dreaming, the cloudless day fading away to sorrow as Hob carefully shuffled back from him.  If he let go of Hob now, how long would it be before Hob's words rang hollow and he lost his friend, despite his unwavering dedication over the centuries?

"Hob."  His voice was a giveaway, sore, rough, and several shades too desperate for the words he needed to force from his lips.  Dream reached for him and took Hob's hand, squeezing it.  Fear and history were choking him, but Hob Gadling, who had somehow inspired souls in Hell to sing, deserved fearlessness.  "I am afraid."  

The words threatened him in a way that no others had, but Dream relaxed a fraction when Hob ceased pulling away from him, and instead settled on his thighs again, watching him.  He didn't let go of Hob's hand, wanting them back on his face, back in his hair, holding him close.  He wanted and he was trembling with it.  

"So am I," Hob admitted, his voice soft as he looked down at their hands.  "I, I don't have anyone else I have known for as long as you.  In almost six hundred years of life, you remain the one constant.  If I ever were to lose you..." he trailed off and looked away, out at the gray clouds gathering over the Dreaming.  

Like a thunderclap echoing across the sky, Dream came to a realization.  "You're lonely too," he breathed, his eyes widening.  

Hob laughed, a sad, rough sound, even to his own ears.  "How do you think I recognized it in you so easily, dove?"  He shrugged.  "Loneliness was something I learned to stave off, over the years, but the reality of my situation never changed.  Yes, I am, sometimes, lonely."  

Why was that enough?  

That they were alike, yet so different?  

That they were, perhaps, as Hob had suggested, far better together than they ever were apart.

Dream stared up at Hob with wondering eyes, at the patience and understanding there.   But just behind the understanding was a swell of hope that sang in Hob's soul and called out to the depths of him.  He could hear the faintest notes of that song as though it was being played just for him, just for them.  

Dream yanked Hob forward, reaching up to tangle his fingers in soft hair and kissed his stubborn, ridiculous human.  His other hand moved around Hob's waist, pulling him in closer as their lips came together again and again, starving for the heat, the hope that was steadily growing stronger by the second.  When Hob pulled back to take a heaving breath, Dream tried to bring him in again, but Hob held himself still, watching him.  

"You make me hope that we will have a different ending," Dream said, staring at him, at his reddening lips that parted in surprise at his words.  "I am afraid, but you are right.  I am, I am better, when you are with me, than I am when we are apart."  

"Dream."  Hob's voice broke on the singular word and he dove in for another kiss, pressing Dream back against the statue behind him, kissing him again and again, until the desperation had faded, and left in its place was a slowly growing ball of warmth in his chest.  

The sun was peeking through the cloud cover.  

"It has been a very long time since I have allowed myself to..." Dream trailed off, watching Hob with the faintest smile on his face.  Kiss-drunk Hob was perhaps his favorite look on the man.  "Feel anything like this.  To allow another person in.  I will not be good at it."  

Hob laughed and leaned in for another kiss, this one lingering as he wrapped his arms around Dream's shoulders, grinning into it.  "You think I care?"  

Dream sighed and tilted his head back as Hob kissed his jaw and down his throat, a heavier shudder running down his spine.  "I would not hurt you unnecessarily.  I feel... too much for you to do that." 

“Love,” Hob breathed, kissing Dream’s neck once more before pulling back to look at him.  “People who care about each other deeply, who know each other well, are always uniquely poised to hurt each other more than anyone else.  I have no doubt that we will hurt each other without meaning to.”  When Dream winced, Hob reached out to cup his face.  “However.  Whether I have to seek you here, or you need to take your distance to process, and time, we have both."  

Hob smiled and leaned in for another kiss, glad when Dream pulled him in close again.  "I'm patient, darling.  And I love you.  I have every intention of making sure that you not only know that and are aware of it, but that you are not scared of it."  

Dream let out a shaky breath that he did not need against Hob's lips.  "This is a gift I do not deserve.  I have done... many horrible things in my life."  

Hob raised an eyebrow and gave Dream's hair a faint tug.  "And I haven't?  On your advice, I spent more than a century trying to make up for, in some way, what I had done to innocent people."  He kissed Dream again, just to taste his smile and pressed in close to him, leaning in as close as he could get.  

"They are not the same," Dream protested, even as Hob cuddled closer to him.  

Hob shrugged.  "Then we'll fix them.  We're immortals.  Well, you're an anthropomorphic personification, but we've got time.  We can fix them."  

Dream held onto him tighter and... let himself go.  

All at once, everything he felt for Hob Gadling, everything that he wanted and hoped for with a driving force that threatened to consume him, swept through him and he held on tighter, refusing to let go as he rode out the emotions threatening to take him over.  But just like it had come, the wave was gone, leaving him... content, with Hob in his arms, able to touch and kiss and worship as he saw fit.  

"You asked me what my choice is," Dream said, reaching up to brush some of Hob's hair out of his face.  

"I did," Hob agreed, raising his eyebrows.  

Dream took a breath that he did not need and looked at the sun peeking through the clouds in the Dreaming.  It shone the same gold that seemed to inhabit Hob's eyes from time to time.  He turned back to his human, and stroked along his cheek.  The smile waiting for him there, patient as always, had him smiling right back.  

"You are my choice."  The words echoed with power, reverberating around them.  "You, Hob Gadling, who is dear to me above all others, are my choice."  

Joy, bright hot and burning, sparked through him as Hob chose that moment to kiss him, hard and passionate, everything he felt, everything he wanted burning through them both until it threatened to consume them.  They were both smiling as they parted and Dream wanted to pull him in again and again.  

Hob laughed and shook his head.  "You know, this is a bit unfair."  

Dream raised his eyebrows.  "Hm?"  

"I want nothing more than to take you to bed and ravish you, but-" He gestured to his head.  "I can still feel that stuff isn't screwed on right.  Not entirely."  Hob sighed.  "Also I'm still tired and this is the longest I've been awake here in... a long time."  

"As you have reminded me," Dream said, raising his eyebrows.  "We have time.  You will still need to heal."  

Hob nodded and snuggled into Dream's chest again, pressing his face against the cool skin of his neck as he yawned and nuzzled, kissing there.  "Can I stay here for a little longer?"  

Had he his father's power, Dream would have stopped Time itself to allow Hob Gadling this moment for as long as he desired it.  "I have some time before Lucienne will need my assistance," he agreed.  

"Okay," Hob said with another yawn.  "You'll have to show me around the Dreaming.  I wanna see all of it properly."  

Another spark of that same, powerful joy, shot through him at the clear desire and honesty in Hob's voice at seeing the Dreaming, seeing his Kingdom.  "I shall do so," he promised.  "But for now, rest, Hob Gadling."  

Hob poked Dream in the side, even as he got himself comfy against the shadows and silken cloak that seemed to be steadily wrapping around him.  "Stop using my full name now that we're together.  S'weird."  

Dream chuckled.  "Very well."  He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Hob's head.  "Sleep well, my Hob."  

Hob melted with a happy groan.  "That's... yeah.  Perfect."

Chapter Text

When Dream reassured him that Constantine was taking care of things in the Waking world, including an explanation of his absence (about the only way that car accidents were useful, horrid things they were), Hob settled into recovering in the Dreaming.  He'd gone through similar bouts of sleeplessness, though nothing this severe, and recovery took time.  Time that he knew Dream was manipulating to help him recover faster.  

Walking in Fiddler's Green with Dream (holding hands as Dream talked to him about Dreams and Nightmares, or Hob talked about things that he never had time to tell Dream about in their previous meetings), curling up in his bed at night, the power that had been settled in his chest since Hell seemed to grow stronger each and every day.  And even though Hob knew he should mention it to Dream - especially since it might have something to do with his stay in Hell, he couldn’t bear breaking this slowly growing thing between them with worry and fear.  Dream had had too many reasons to fear in recent memory.

In fact, he could have stood to have Dream be decidedly less gentle.  But that was a matter for another time, and reminding Dream that he couldn't be broken was guaranteed to earn him at least a kiss, which was enough, for now.  They had time to wait, and the smiles Dream now granted as easily as a summer's breeze were still something he hoarded closely to his chest.  

"What are you thinking about?" Dream asked.  "You are far away, even for the Dreaming."  

Hob blinked himself back to where they were, on the black sands - the Edge of Creation, Dream called it, with a heavy significance that meant Hob probably wasn't supposed to be building a massive sandcastle while Dream worked but.  He was having fun and Dream hadn't told him not to yet.  

"That I'm going to miss being with you as much as I can be here," Hob said, the words easy as he grinned over at Dream, carving out another window.  "I don't mind, I know this is about giving my mind time to heal.  And I'll see you more frequently than once a century, which is more than I ever thought I'd get."  

He paused and picked up another handful of sand, settling in to work to build more of the retaining wall.  "But that doesn't mean I won't miss this.  I am going to miss this."  

"You are almost healed," Dream said.  His lips twitched as Hob hummed in answer and continued to build his castle.  It was a conglomeration of castles from Hob's past and it grew regularly the more attention he paid to it.  "I suspect you'll be able to return to the Waking world soon."  

Hob slanted a glance up at Dream and smirked at him.  "Is that Dream-speak for you saying that you're going to miss me too?"   

Dream turned to him properly and tilted his head.  "Of course I will miss your presence.  But you will be here, each night, and though I cannot see you every evening, when I can, I will."  

Dusting off his hands to leave his ever-growing castle for now, Hob stood up and walked over to Dream, tangling his fingers in the galaxy-ridden cloak that dangled around Dream.  "I know love," he breathed, his voice soft.  "I told you, I'm fine waiting, I don't mind, and I'll cherish every moment that we have together."  

Dream leaned down to kiss Hob's forehead, smiling against his skin.  "You are too good to me, my Hob."  

"Nah," Hob disagreed, tilting his head up to kiss Dream, steady and slow, sinking into the kiss with a happy sigh as Dream pulled him closer.  Once again, that spark of power in him lit up and he pressed in closer to Dream, wanting to hold him tighter and for longer.  "Think maybe we could celebrate my going away?"  He paused and grinned, lifting his eyebrows, so Dream had no doubt what he was referring to.  

Dream hummed and pressed a thumb to Hob's lips, watching them part so easily for him, a low groan escaping from him.  "Perhaps," he allowed.  "If you are feeling up to it.  You know that we have all of the time we need."  

Hob laughed and kissed Dream's thumb before sucking it into his mouth, just to pull another of those low groans from him.  "Just because that's true," he said, giving Dream a wink as he pressed another kiss to his thumb.  "Doesn't mean that I enjoy waiting forever.  I want to get my hands on you, oh ye Lord of the Dreaming.  I have several centuries worth of fantasies to get through and-"

A horn sounded across the Dreaming, stealing both their attention.  

Hob laughed and tugged Dream down for another kiss at the irritated and angry look on his face.  "I love you for being irritated, but go tend to your duties, my King."  He didn't miss the way that made Dream shiver and smirked at him.  "I'll make my way back to the palace.  And if I wake up while you are tending to your duties, then I will see you soon, won't I?"  

"You will," Dream promised, stepping away reluctantly into a cloud of sand, drinking in Hob's smile and wave as he allowed himself to be pulled away.  

Hob looked back at the unfinished Dreams and Nightmares, and to his castle that seemed to have grown and solidified from mere sand on the ground beside where Dream had been creating.  He probably should destroy it so he wasn't wasting any of the sand, but... Dream hadn't said he minded.  Which meant that it didn't need to be destroyed.  Giving it a nod, Hob carefully imagined the path back to the castle, through the familiar forest and along several substantial bluffs.  He could use the exercise and started off down the path.  

~!~

Since Dream had returned and finished rebuilding the Dreaming, Hob knew that he had been dealing with an almost endless (he chuckled to himself) stream of visitors wishing to re-establish diplomatic relationships with the King of Dreams.  He hated and loved it in turn.  It was a sign of healing, of true healing, that he was being approached in this way, but Hob also knew (based on the rants that he suspected he alone was privy to) that they frustrated Dream to no end, because they all wanted something.  Whether that something was control over nightmares, or freedom from Dreams, or their own little section of the Dreaming to call their own, they all came with demands.  

Which would be exhausting if Dream didn't have any other duties to attend to, so Hob got the frustration.  If he had to run the history department as well as teach, he probably wouldn't have lasted a month without stabbing someone considering the amount of in-fighting there could be.  (If he was also guilty of some of that in-fighting, well, it wasn't his fault that Professor Scribe - a pretentious, fake name if Hob had ever heard one - didn't hesitate to declare Shakespeare a peerless writer every time he was in Hob's presence.  Some battles were meant to be fought and he would stand by the fact that that was one of them.)  

The castle was quiet when he returned, and Hob yawned, making his way to the throne room that was, thankfully empty.  That meant he could go to bed without trying to dream his way up another staircase.  He knew from experience that always exhausted him.  (According to Dream, it was because he was dreaming a way to the very Heart of the Dreaming, a feat only Dream was usually capable of.)  But now, he could climb the stairs like a normal human and fall straight into Dream's bed with a happy groan.  

If there was one thing he was going to miss, it was going to be this bed, with it's cool sheets and its pillows that smelled like Dream, even if he never slept in them and…

Hob woke up.

He looked around his bedroom that was, thankfully, not covered in a thick layer of dust.  However, based on the IV in his arm, and the clear signs of someone coming in regularly, that meant Dream had been serious about him being tended to.  He groaned, falling back against the pillows.  Fuck, what timing, dammit.  Pressing his hand to his face, he tugged the IV out carefully and rolled himself out of bed.  There was a clattering in his kitchen and he looked up, frowning.  

"Hello?"  Hob opened the bedroom door and stared at Constantine, who was sitting on one of his stools, sipping tea out of one of his mugs, looking at her phone.  He took a deep breath, pinched his nose and remembered that Dream had told him that she was the one who'd been watching him.  

"Damn, so he was right," Constantine said, taking another sip of her tea.  "You're looking decidedly more lively."  

Hob pushed his fingers through his hair, making a face at how filthy his hair felt.  He groaned again.  "Come sit outside the damn bathroom so I can ask you about the cover story while I shower."  

Glad when she didn't protest, Hob turned the water on as scalding as he could stand and stripped off his clothes and stepped into the spray.  He heard the door crack a minute later and pushed his hair under the water with a happy sigh.  "How long have I been out?"  

"You were kidnapped for three weeks, and you've been out for an additional two since he brought you here," Constantine answered.  "You're probably still a bit malnourished, but since you can walk, I'm going to call it a win, just don't hit up any all you can eat buffets."  

"Right," Hob said with a hoarse laugh, grabbing at the shampoo on the side of the shower, scrubbing vigorously at his hair.  "What's the cover for all of this?"  

"The time frame fit a car accident, so that's what I went with.  You're at home, recovering, and I'm the only local relative you've got.  You've paid your bartender well, he doesn't ask any questions."  She paused.  "Does he know?"  

Hob sighed and rinsed out the first set of suds.  "He's guessed, and that's enough.  But he won't say anything, I helped put his kids through school and got his wife a job."  

She let out a low whistle.  "So not only can you not die, you don't age either?"  

"Something like that," Hob said with a laugh, lathering up his hair again.  "Do you know what's going on with my job?"  

"They were alerted to your accident, I filled out all the short-term disability paperwork, which you're welcome for, by the way, and as long as you give them a few days heads up, you should be able to return without issue," She said.  "He demanded I be thorough, and he is paying quite obscenely well, so I was."  

One more thing that Hob would have to find a way to thank Dream for - because this was a far more minimal interruption to his life than he had expected.  He let the second round of shampoo sit in his hair for several long minutes as he scrubbed himself almost raw with body wash.  

"You didn't touch anything, did you?" Hob asked.  "Outside of my kettle?"  

"Most of your kitchen," she admitted.  "I had to keep a closer eye on you in the beginning, I knew you weren't going to die, but unless I was monitoring you closely, you weren't going to easily heal either."  

Hob snorted and glanced at the open doorway.  "He threatened you if you touched anything else, didn't he?"  

Constantine barked out a laugh and took another sip of her tea.  "Oh yes.  And I understand why, because your average person might not know the age of some of those antiques sitting around your apartment, but I sure as hell do."  

A laugh escaped him and Hob took his time rinsing off, feeling decidedly more human now that the additional layers of grime and time were gone.  "You're much nicer than your ancestor.  Granted, she threatened me, and Dream, but I think I like you better."  He could tell the comment had thrown her when she said nothing for a few pointed moments as he turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the rack.  

The sight of his beard in the mirror had him sighing and he grabbed his shaving kit.  "Anything else I need to know?"  

Constantine hesitated.  "Your apartment is warded against demons, now.  I know he did his own warding, but.  I had to keep you safe while I wasn't here.  Whatever grabbed you shouldn't be able to get you again, at least not in here.  I can give you a talisman-"

"That won't be necessary," Hob interrupted, thinking of the vicious smirk on Desire's face.  He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  That was the other thing he hadn't told Dream, because he'd wanted to figure out how the hell to approach it first.  He had no doubt that if he told Dream it had been Desire who'd brought him into Lucifer's clutches, the response would have been brutal and immediate.  Neither of which would have actually done any good.  

"You're sure?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.  "Not to put more value on you or anything, but you're a very useful hostage against him."  

Hob snorted and grabbed his toothbrush.  "Well, since they kicked me out of hell before he rescued me, I'm not sure that they would agree."  That, right there, had definitely thrown her and he scrubbed at his teeth with relish, glad to finally clean the last of the taste out of his mouth.  There was still a faint burning sensation in the back of his throat from singing in Hell, maybe that would fade in time?  He'd have to ask Dream.  

"No one gets kicked out of Hell," she said.  "I've been demon-slaying for years and-"

"And trust me, as someone several centuries your elder..." Hob grabbed the shaving cream and poured some into his hand.  "That things are rarely as cut and dry as they appear, Demons are sometimes much more complex than you or I would think, and Hell, like any other realm, is bound by rules."  

Hob could hear the frown on her face as he got started shaving, bringing the razor down over his cheek again and again, sighing happily as he got rid of the beard.  He didn't mind wearing one, and in fact would need to start in a few years to keep up the aging appearances, but not yet.  

"What are you?" Constantine asked.  "How did you meet him?"  

Hob laughed and reached out to kick the door open a fraction so he could look at where she was leaning against the frame.  "I'm just some idiot in a bar who insulted death in front of the right people at the time.  Nothing special."  

She frowned at him, tilting her head.  "I don't think that's quite right."  

He shrugged.  "Whether you do or don't doesn't matter to me, it's the truth.  Now, you're welcome to head out, I've got things well in hand.  You said he'd settled payment with you already?"  

"Yes," She said, taking a step back.  "I'll put the kettle on for you?"  

"You're wonderful," Hob said, turning back to the mirror as he heard her move through the apartment to do exactly that before leaving, the door shutting behind her with a ringing sound.  Looking at his face in the mirror again, Hob heaved a sigh and went back to shaving.  At least his life was still in tact, and he would be able to see Dream again soon.  

At least like this he'd be able to think on and hopefully figure out what to do about Desire and all the... weird power stuff.

~!~

He shouldn't have waited a week.

Of course, during that week, Hob had spent more time than he would admit jumping at anyone and everyone who walked around the corner, expecting Desire to strike again.  He was having trouble sleeping (which he knew was bothering Dream, though he'd been kind not to mention it) and he was having trouble focusing at work (which thankfully everyone ignored, thinking it was because of the car crash he had supposedly been in), but when Desire finally approached him again, it was a relief, because he was no longer consumed by the tension that had been lingering in his shoulders for days now.  

When he walked into his apartment and they were waiting for him, he sighed and threw down his keys, holding out a hand to them.  "Before, you try whatever you're about to, can I know why you're doing this?"  

Desire paused, tilting their head to the side, watching him.  "I need a reason other than playing with my dear older brother's favorite human?  There's no need for any other reason."  

"Well," Hob said.  "I haven't told him what you did."  

"And you're not going to get the chance," Desire said, delighted, stepping closer.  "I made the mistake of giving you to Hell, and while I don't know how you escaped-"

"I could tell you if you want," Hob offered, dropping his bag on the floor as he crossed his arms over his chest.  He slid a hand into his pocket and squeezed the small charm that he'd taken from Constantine, when she'd offered it a second time, despite his misgivings and watched Desire stalk closer.  "It's a fun little story."  

"Oh, don't worry," Desire said, bouncing eagerly on their toes.  "We've all heard of the way you sang your soul out of Hell.  But this time, you are not going to be able to escape, and this time, no one is going to be around to hear you."  

Hob sighed and closed his eyes as the dark wave of power hit him once again.  This really was getting old.  And he perhaps should have told Dream what was going on.  And about the other stuff too.  At least this time, Dream would know he'd been taken immediately.  

He blinked his eyes open to a gray sky and a very familiar beach, tensing.  Hob looked around, but there was no sight of his sandcastle, or the Dreams and Nightmares that Dream had been working on.  Instead, to his left, there was a rocky cliff face and to the right, nothing but endless black ocean.  

"This the Edge," Desire said, leading the human forward.  "When I thought about where to take you, where to put you, since you cannot die, this struck me as the perfect place."  They paused and turned to look at him.  "Even more so because you know how close you are to your precious Dream, but he will never hear you, not again, not here."  

Hob opened his mouth to speak and snarled, silent and angry as not a sound escaped.  This shit again?  

Desire led him forward, toward the cliff face.  "This is where we all began, you know.  Do you know why it is called the Edge?  It is the very edge of all of our worlds, tied into the mists of Mother Night and Creation.  It is here that I shall bury you, and when you, eventually, cry out for Death, not even she will hear you."  

Hob swallowed, his eyes widening as he looked around, struggling against the power propelling him forward, demanding that he did not stop.  He kicked up sand, doing anything, everything, to try to stop Desire, to buy him more time.  He needed to buy time, as much as possible.  

"You know, as fond of humans are of asking why, I don't think I'll give you the answer, even though I can feel how much you desire it," Desire said cheerfully, as they stopped beside a crevice in the rock face.  "In you go.  We'll bury you nice and deep.  I'm sure you've guessed it's some form of sibling issues, but the truth is - if this is how my brother will see me, then this is what I will be.  You've sought his attention, you understand, of course."  

Hob... paused.   

Standing in the entrance to the rock face, watching Desire's back, feeling the weight of the magic pulling at him, Hob ignored it.  He was rooted in place now, and he didn't feel the tugs of power, despite Desire looking back at him, their eyes golden and furious at the interruption.  He tilted his head and watched as they pulled, harder, on the magic holding him in place.  

Dream's attention was a heady thing, he did know that well.  His kind regard even more so.  But before... before his capture, the way he'd reacted to being called friend?  What kind of a sibling had he been?  He looked at Desire and frowned.  What had they said?  If this was how their brother would see them...

He gasped against the magic keeping him silent, his mind racing with the stories that Dream had half-told over the past several months.  Mentions of a Dream Vortex, of Rose Walker, her book was in the stack that he needed to read that Dream was reading! The soft hint that it had been a sibling who orchestrated it.  All of that had been...

Hob stared at Desire, at the anger that was twisting their face and took a step back, pulling against the power that was tugging him in oh-so-insistently.  It was growing weaker by the second, no longer holding him in place, and the power in his chest was becoming hotter, making him grunt in pain as he stumbled.  

"That is enough," Desire snarled.  "You are nothing but a mere human, and I don't know how you're resisting me here, but-" They grabbed Hob Gadling's arm and began to pull him toward the cave.  

Hob tried to scream Dream's name, but the power, the pressing on his chest was getting heavier and hotter and he tried to scream again and again, to no avail.  Desire continued to tug him deeper into the cave where there was no light, only darkness.  His head was fuzzy with the weight of whatever magic this was now, and he stumbled, struggling to break free, his shoes, his feet, bare feet now, somehow, were catching and sliding and slipping on the bare stone beneath him.  

"Cease your struggling, there is no one coming for you, and whatever magic you might attempt cannot stand up to this place," Desire shouted the words, shoving the human in front of them, even as his form was illuminated gold.  

Ripping at the power inside him, clawing at his chest, Hob tried again to scream for Dream, for help, his nails tearing at his shirt as Desire threw him forward, shoving him to the ground.  The wet rock around him was illuminated gold, a brighter gold than the burnished one in Desire's eyes.  

Desire scowled.  "Enjoy your eternal torment in this place."  They lifted their hands.  "It's been a horrible time meeting you."  

Hob clawed at his throat, the power strong enough now to suffocate him, impossibly heavy on his chest until at last it reached his mouth.  Chest heaving, choking on this power that seemed determined to swallow him whole, Hob screamed Dream's name, a wash of golden light erupting from him, illuminating the cave and Desire's shocked form as it escaped at last and kept cascading from him in wave after wave.  

Seconds later, the cave was gone, and they were on the beach, and Hob was stumbling away from the shocked form of Desire, and there were other shadows, other figures standing around him, and he spun, looking for a familiar face, looking for Dream when he was Called.  The reverberation shook through his body and he stumbled, trying to steady himself.    

"There you are." "Where have you been?" "You've taken your time."  

Hob froze, the power in him shuddering, even as it continued to leak out of him in steady waves, sinking into the sand around them.  There were six around him now.  Six and then three.  It was the three who were speaking.  "Who..." The word burned, it ached, and it was beautiful, all at once.  "Who are you?"  

"Payment!" "Payment needed!" "You must pay us for questions!"

Hob flinched back from their echoing, cavernous voices, slipping in the sand, his chest lurching as the power was suddenly yanked sideways and a moan of pain escaped.  It was too much, and it was too hot, and he was burning, and it hurt, oh it hurt, why was it hurting so badly?  He was going to fly apart with it.

A cry behind him that Hob recognized, that struck a chord in his very soul had him clawing at the sand, struggling to turn toward it, toward the figure that reached him in mere seconds.  Shadows swept over him, cradling him protectively, muffling the fire so he could draw in heaving, desperate breaths.  He grabbed at Dream's cloak, at the sound of fury that was growing in his power, his whole body trembling with every pulse of gold that bled out of him again and again.  

"Ascending is painful."  "Painful for humans."  "Agony for him to survive."

Dream narrowed his eyes at The Kindly Ones who had their eyes trained on Hob, who thrashed in his arms again, his whole body shaking.  His siblings were gathered around them, all of them watching, and Dream held onto Hob tighter.  "Tell us what is happening," he demanded.  

"Ascension."  "A New Endless."  "Rebirth and renewal."  

The voices echoed in his mind again and he bit down the demand that it stop, that whatever they were doing to him be stopped, because he wasn't going to be able to hold it all in, it was going to explode out of him.  It was too much, and he didn't want to hurt anyone.  He clung tighter to Dream and muffled another cry as another wave of some sort of gold magic erupted from him, washing across the sands of the Edge.  

Dream watched, helplessly, looking to each of their siblings, but when Desire failed to meet their gaze, he snarled.  "How is he here?  How did Hob come to be here?  He could not get here without one of us."  

"One of you."  "Endless."  "Forever seven again."  

Desire said nothing, crossing their arms over their chest.  

"Desire!" Dream growled, a promise of pain in every word.  "Did you bring him here?  Was this another one of your games?"  He stood in a fury of bleak shadow and power, ready to step forward and challenge his sibling, when Hob grabbed at his hand again.  

"S-Stop," Hob managed the word, but it felt wrong, it didn't fit, it wasn't right in his mouth anymore.  The action was right, but the words were not, and his power was filling his chest again, suffocating him, and he pulled on Dream's hand, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe, tried to draw in enough air.  

Dream glared between all of his siblings, but they said nothing, their eyes on Hob and how he was thrashing in the sand.  Dismissing them, he knelt in front of Hob again.  "Hob," he breathed, his voice soft.  

"Wrong name."  "Name him right."  "He must be named."  

Shaking his head at the nonsensical demand from The Kindly Ones, Dream focused on Hob, whose eyes were glowing bright gold, and hazy with pain.  Dream pressed their foreheads together, holding onto him tight.  "Keep looking at me, I'm not going to let it hurt you."  

"Liar!"  "Liar!"  "Liar!"  

Hob grabbed a handful of the shadows of Dream's coat and did his best to hang on as he fell, forward, into the fire that was threatening to consume him.  There was a gong echoing in his mind, and he listened to it toll.  

ONE.  

Hob was drifting, floating above the sand, far above the Edge, and the six creatures he could see on the sand were so different now.  They were so much more than the shadowed figures that he had left behind, even as he floated higher and higher.  He could see the Dreaming, and beyond that, other lands, bright, dark, and even Sunless, all of them stretched out across galaxies, across eternity.  It was all there now.  

TWO.  

Shoved forward, Hob flew past them and into a more familiar world, centuries flying past him in a single blink.  Things he recognized, things he did not, places he had never seen and others that he knew better than any living human.  They were all there, they were all a part of him, and he ached for them, for what he meant for them.  

THREE.  

This time, Hob was ready for the rush that swept him away, and it brought him to quiet.  The sandcastle on the Edge of Creation.  The one that he had built himself, without touch of Dream, or any others.  The castle that was his, shining gold, growing, twisting, answering to what he wanted it to be, no matter what it looked like.  Was it his?  Did it belong to him?  

FOUR.  

He no longer had a body, and all he was was light, burning, violent, thrashing and desperate.  The only thing that remained, the only constant, a fire across lifetimes, across universes, and growth coming anew.  He was all of it, and none of it, all at the same time, until there was no beginning and ending, only endless.  

FIVE.  

Pain, as he was ripped apart, atom by atom, and reformed.  All he had seen, all he had been, torn asunder until none of him remained, no part of him that had once been, only what he would be.  The being, the power had consumed him, and there was nothing left behind, nothing to hold what was a consciousness together except sheer will and-

SIX.

Night.  It was black, bleak, and beautiful.  In it he could see the threads of Dream, the depth of Desire, the joy of Despair, and the comfort of Death.  It felt opposite, but oh it felt like home, and like acceptance.  It was half of his belonging, and he would always have a place.  

Time.  Endless, Endless, Endless, Endless.  Never ceasing, never stopping, never ending.  Endless, Endless, Endless, a chant that burned into his remaining consciousness, filled with rules and requirements and necessities, things to know, knowledge that had never been his to gain, but it was there, and it didn't stop.  

He was.  

SEVEN.  

He slammed back into his body on the beach, wrenched away from Dream, the bleed of power from him at last ceasing as all of his limbs trembled and he looked upon The Kindly Ones, still, so still that he would never need to move again if he did not wish it.  He sank his fingers into the sand, panting as he stared down at it.  It was different, now it pulsed with magic, wishing to be used, to be molded.  

"A surprising success."  "He lives and must be named."  "Name yourself."  

He swayed at the demand, at the command that resonated a chord deep within him, a Call to the power.  Name, a name, what was the name they wanted, he'd had so many, what name would they demand, would they take? He looked up at them, but they had no answers, they required payment for questions and the power was pounding, beating within him, demanding a name.  

What name?  

Clenching at the sand again, he forced himself up and to face the Three, their images flashing before him in an ever-rotating circle, their power growing darker and heavier by the instant as they circled him.  

"Name!" "A Name Required!" "A Name of the Endless!"

Endless.

A chord echoed across the sand and he swayed, staring at them.  Endless.  He was Endless, now, he was...

"Hob!"  

The shout, the familiar voice, the echo of pain, of love of...

He turned to look at the figure who had made the shout, the desperation in the galaxies of his eyes, the shadows that gathered around him like a coat and kept him protected.  He was... he was...

"Hope."  

Another loud, echoing chord and Hope closed his eyes, sitting back against his bare feet in the sand.  He smiled, The Kindly Ones chanting his name, letting it sink into him, a summons, a prayer, and a blessing, all at once.  Hope.  That was who he was, who he would be, and who he had been.  He lifted up his fingertips, glowing gold and laughed, admiring as his nails were polished in gold.  

He hummed in delight and the sound echoed across the sound, bouncing between them all.  Hope stood and faced Dream, and smiled.  There was something echoing in his chest and he stepped forward, before letting the words fall softly.  "Gales of song..." The notes danced around him, reverberating in the air.  There was a gasp, but it didn't matter, the song mattered.  "Guide me through the storm."  There was a storm, brewing inside him, around him, in the others, a storm he had to field, had to navigate.  "Let the melody lift me high!" The note rose to echo in the air with power, rippling the air with the force.  

Abruptly, it dropped, back down softly, and Hope sang. "I'll be me."  He cupped his palm in front of  him and watched as his Sigil formed, singing it to life, shining silver and sparkling with stars.  It chimed when Hope pressed a finger to it and he grinned.  Lifting it up, he tossed it, the sound echoing joyously.  

"Hope lives."  "The creation of an Endless."  "The Six are Seven again."  

Hope grinned, pleased to have been Named, and cupped his Sigil close.  The sound of that name from before reached him and he turned, looking to Dream, to the other Endless, tilting his head.  There was something... He frowned, and took a step toward him.  

"Dream."  

Death's warning fell on deaf ears as Dream stared at Hob's golden eyes, so kind, so gentle, but with no spark of recognition in them.  A part of him shattered, and he stepped closer, closing his eyes in regret that they had had so little time together thanks to him.  It was his own fault, and now he'd lost the one thing he had once hoped never to lose.  

"Dream," Hope repeated, walking forward.  There was a hiss from the Kindly Ones and he looked to them with a frown, shaking his head.  He had been Named, and now they were to oversee his first steps on behalf of Night and Time.  "Why do you look so sad?"  

Dream watched as Hope stopped before him, and oh, if there had ever been a word that his Hob had embodied it was this, it was Hope, and now, with another Endless standing in front of him, wearing his face, and his smile, it was torture.  Torture in the form of Hope.  How fitting.  Hob would have laughed.  

"It doesn't matter," Dream said, turning away.  "I welcome you, brother."  The word was acid in his mouth and a shadow wiped away the tear that threatened to escape before it could.  

"Not brother!"  "Not sibling!"  "Not One but One!"

Dream frowned, lifting his eyes to the Kindly Ones, but they offered no further answers, watching them and he turned back to Hope.  "Not... but he is Endless."  

Hope hummed, the sound echoing in the air again.  He reached up to touch Dream's cheek.  "Endless made, but not Endless born.  Different," he explained.  "Not the same, but same enough."  

Flinching away from Hope's touch, Dream drew back and prepared himself to leave.  "I will leave you to the others to help you find your way," Dream said, inclining his head.  "They are, they are far more suited to the task."  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Death, and the pain in her eyes for him, for them, for what he'd lost.  

Hope frowned, his hand falling as Dream turned away.  

Another night flickered before his eyes, a reminder, a life lived, a memory.  Rain.  Anger.  Upset.  Hurt.  But oh, hope, so much hope, that with time, his Stranger, his Dream would-

Hob stumbled in the sand, his eyes slamming wide as he fell to his knees, gasping for breath, for air, scrambling to get back up again.  "Dream, fuck, Dream, wait!"  He pushed himself upright and threw himself at Dream as the sand started to swirl around him and yanked him around, desperate, afraid, holding on, clinging to any part of him he could hold.  “Dream!” 

Dream turned to look at Hope, about to give a scathing dismissal when instead of shining golden eyes, he saw brown, wonderfully perfect brown eyes, with flecks of gold in them.  Brown eyes that were so filled with love he nearly collapsed at the sight.  "Hob."  

"Fuck," Hob swore, reaching up to grab Dream by the face, hauling him in for a kiss, clinging to him, afraid to let go, everything roiling up in him at once.  The fear of being trapped here, this magic calling for Dream, and then being made, fuck, being made an Endless, just like Dream.  "I'm here, I'm here dove," he breathed against Dream's lips, holding him close, pressing against him.  "It's me, I'm here, I had to..." he frowned, remembering being torn apart and pieced back together.  "I had to get, unmade, I think.  It took me a bit to come back to myself."  

Ignoring the knowing looks from his siblings, and even the disdainful one from Desire, Dream clung to Hob, to Hope, just as hard, kissing him again and again until the edge of desperation at last started to fade.  "What..." he breathed out slowly, looking to the others over Hob's shoulder.  "What happened?"  

"A story to be told."  "Punishment to be delivered."  "Attempting to kill an Endless."  

"Right," Hob said, rubbing the back of his head, his body still aching from... all that he'd gone through.  He pushed that aside and took Dream's hand, bringing him back to the circle where the other Endless and the Kindly Ones were still standing.  "Desire, care to explain how I came to be here?"  

When that got him nothing but a scowl, and Dream radiating slowly growing fury next to him, Hob took it upon himself to explain.  "Desire brought me here to bury me," he said, keeping it short and simple.  "Since tossing me into Hell didn't end up accomplishing much."

Dream snarled, his eyes snapping with fire as he glared at his sibling.  "You dared to touch what was mine?  I warned you, Desire!"  

"Vengeance deserved."  "Vengeance earned."  "Justice for Hope."

Dream stepped forward, ready to charge across the circle when a hand in the center of his chest, echoing with power, stopped him.  He frowned and looked down at Hob, a golden aura glowing around him, and gold rings around his eyes.  "Hob, they must be-"  

"Oh, look at Hope, taking my side in the first family spat, hm?  Think you might end up on the couch tonight thou-"

Hope growled and sent a wave of power in irritation at Desire, knocking them back into the sand, before turning to Dream again, his eyes firm before he shook his head.  Faint hints of the conversation from Before were echoing in his mind.  Attention, younger siblings, a broken family, but not shattered, not yet.  "Let me," Hope said, his voice soft.  

Dream scowled.  "If you give them an inch, they are going to find ways to get out of any punishment, and I would not have you taken advantage-"

"Let," Hope repeated, his voice firming and echoing with discordant musical notes.  "Me."  

Dream stiffened and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, nodding once in agreement.  

Hope turned to the Kindly Ones who were watching, always watching, always observing, ready to comment but rarely ready to help.  "Desire attempting to murder another Endless.  The laws dictate they must be punished for this."  

"Punishment!"  "Punish the Endless!"  "A Rivalry Turned Bitter!"  

Hope nodded and stepped closer.  "As the recipient of that attempted murder, I request the right of Punishment, since it resulted in my early Making.  I should have had several more months before this happened in a much more natural setting."  There was a hum of magic through the air, curious and interested from the others, from the knowledge that he would have been here eventually, but not yet, it was almost too soon, and he had almost lost the part of him most important to Dream.  

Hope stared down the Kindly Ones, who continued rotating, considering, thinking through his offer.  He stepped closer and faced them fully.  "I should decide their punishment, as the crime was against me."  

"Very well."  "Choose wisely little Hope."  "Request granted."

Hope nodded his thanks to them, turning to look at Desire, only to catch them running back to The Threshold, a shimmering portal left open behind them.  His lips twitched.  Home field advantage was sometimes a hell of a thing.  He turned to look at the others.  “Please await my return.” 

Following Desire into the Threshold, he made his way to the center of the heart, his feet bare on the floor, able to feel the pulsing warmth through them.  With another breath, Hope let himself relax, focused on the task ahead.  There was much that he needed to attempt to repair and very little time to do it in.  

“Gotta admire needing to bring me here,” Hob called out, stepping into the main room, even as Desire scoffed and turned away from him, pretending to ignore him.  “You going to ignore me?  You know that’s not going to end well.”  

“As though any of this is going to end well, little Hope.”  

It was a true enough statement from Desire’s perspective.  But he was not here to tear them apart further.  Dream would not be able to survive another sundering of the family, no matter what he might believe in this moment.  Nor would he be the one to raise his hand, not so soon after what had happened to him, and with the Vortex.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, keeping it simple when Desire’s eyes snapped to him. 

Hob kept his gaze steady and calm as he looked at Desire of the Endless.  He could see that they were nervous, for whatever punishment he would ask for from the Kindly Ones for his attempted murder.  But that wasn’t how he wanted to begin, nor was it how he wanted to continue to go on.  So instead, he sat down, wrapped his arms around his knees and smiled at Desire.  

“Oh don’t look at me with that saccharine smile.  What will it be?  My death?” 

Hob shook his head.  “Nah.  That’d be bad for everyone.  I can feel that, in here now.”  He pointed to his chest and felt the now-familiar swell of power that filled him and was him.  He paused and rocked back a fraction, the motion familiar and soothing, grounding himself in his body.  “I think I know why Delight became Delirium.”  He had their attention now, their full attention, and they were wary. 

“How could you possibly know that?” Desire scoffed.  “Endless are-” 

Hob waved a hand.  “Yes, yes, I’ve heard that speech from Dream a dozen times over, I don’t need a repeat.  Especially since I am one now.”  He grinned and shook his head before plunging in.  “I think she had too much of a good thing.  She let herself get too caught up in the delights that the world offered, and without any separation, lost herself to it, and became Delirium.”  He paused and frowned, tapping a finger against his jeans, rubbing at the fabric.  Grounding.  He needed to stay grounded.

“I think Dream tried to do the opposite,” he continued, his voice soft.  “Removing himself from everything the collective unconscious feels so it does not consume him entirely.”  

Desire tilted their head and watched Hope more carefully.  “Did he tell you that?”  

Hob shook his head.  “No, of course not.  He’d never be that forthcoming.”  He grinned at Desire again when they let out a surprised laugh.  “But he did tell me that he let his Dreams and Nightmares take care of any dreams of demons because it’s too easy for him to lose himself in their dreams.”  He paused pointedly.  “I knew what he meant.  When… when I started singing, in Hell.  The hope that it gave everyone…” he shuddered.  “It was staggering, how much power it passed on.”  

“What’s your point?” Desire asked, sighing as they rolled over on their chaise.  

“That Delight became Delirium because they drowned too much in their own consciousness.  That Dream prevented that - but hurt himself in other ways - by pulling back from what he was.”  Hob paused and met golden eyes flaring at him.  “That you are in the process of making the same mistake that Delight did before they became Delirium.”  

Hob watched Desire leap off the couch, their eyes flaring brilliant with power and anger and smiled faintly, watching it.  “You’re one of the most powerful forces in the universe, Desire.”  They paused and he met their eyes.  “You, more than any other Sibling, work in tandem with me, and what I am now.  Hope feeds Desire.”  He winked.  “Wouldn’t you agree?”  

Desire sank back down onto their chaise and frowned at Hope, studying him.  “You are the first to acknowledge the power of what I can do.”  

Hob laughed.  “Of course I am.  I was human before being Endless.  Not only have I seen the bad parts of you, I have seen the best parts.  The parts that drive Hope, for millions.”  He shrugged and scratched at his jeans.  “Hope is about the future - about possibility.  Desire is about the drive to reach for it.  Without you, I am nothing but a Dream.”  He stared at them, pointedly.  

Desire continued to frown at Hob and then snorted, leaning back in their chaise.  “You want me to leave your precious lover alone.”  They scoffed and stared at the ceiling.  “It’s obvious.”  

Shaking his head, Hob kept watching Desire.  “Dream has made millennia of mistakes.  He is not unaware of this, especially the ones he has made regarding you.”  He looked down at his knees and tapped on the fabric again.  “You have made mistakes with him as well, and you have most definitely made mistakes with me, and you are aware to the extent of which.”  Desire twitched and Hob fought down another smile.  

“However,” Hob started, his voice softening.  “I don't know if you know this, but, I haven’t had a family in several centuries.”  The old, familiar pain made him ache.  “Now, suddenly, I find myself with one.  Not only that, but one I desire to keep, every single bit of it.”  

Desire stared, unblinking at him.  The truth of that statement, the desire behind it, had them shuddering with power and they breathed through it slowly.  Hope was unafraid of the honest desire and that made it even more powerful. “What do you want, truly, Hope?” 

Being Named sent a shiver through him and Hob took a breath, trying to focus.  For the first time since sitting down, he could feel the fission of hope sliding through the room, between them.  This was the right way forward, it would be.  “I want you to teach me what Dream cannot.”  When their eyes widened, shock blatantly obvious on their face, especially as they registered the truth of the desire, Hob grinned, knowing that he had them.  “That’s your punishment I am requesting.  For you to teach me.  To truly, honestly, teach me about what you are and how that works.”  

“Dream’s not going to like that,” Desire pointed out with a frown.  “He will be angry with you.” 

Hob shrugged.  “I’ll deal with it.  This is more important.”  He could tell the statement surprised them and stood up, carefully making his way over to the chaise.  “I won’t lose you to the darker side of yourself, Desire.  And I’ll drag you and Dream both along kicking and screaming if I have to.”  

Desire laughed, leaning back in a sprawl over the chaise.  “There might be a bit of both,” they admitted, their eyes twinkling.  

“That’s fine,” Hob said with a smile, sitting down next to them.  “But no more trying to kill each other.  I’ll work with the others on getting them to respect and understand what you do better, you teach me what you know, and together, we end up in a better spot.”  

Desire flopped away from him, groaning.  “Ugh.  I can practically feel your power bleeding off of you, stop that.”  They flapped a hand in Hope’s direction.  

Hob laughed.  “That might be a great place to start, because I have no idea how to do that,” he said, shrugging.  “But come on, promise me.  No more machinations of murdering Dream or I.”  

Desire hesitated and sat upright again, watching Hope with narrowed eyes.  “Swear to me first your half.”  

“Okay,” Hob said with a nod, meeting Desire’s eyes easily.  “I swear to you, as Hope of the Endless,” he paused, wrinkling his nose.  That would never not be weird.  “To have you as one of my teachers for the power I now embody, to work with your family so they better understand you and the power you carry, and.”  He paused, pointedly, his own eyes glowing bright in the light of the room.  “To pull you back to yourself if you begin to drift too far again.  On all that I am as Hope, until your Eldest Sister takes us all.”  

Desire let out a shaky breath before nodding, facing Hope fully.  They held out their hands and shivered when Hope took them, easily and readily, not flinching away.  They smiled and met Hope’s eyes and felt lighter than they had in millennia.  “I swear to you, as Desire of the Endless to have you as my student and sorta-sibling,” they winked.  “To teach you the breadth of your power as Hope, and that no true harm shall come to you or Dream by my hand or hand of those I influence.”  They paused and smiled back when Hope grinned at them again.  “On all that I am as Desire of the Endless.”  

Hob beamed and felt the power of the oath rush through the room and then out again.  “Don’t think I didn’t catch you leaving a loophole for pranks of any and every type there.”  

Desire laughed delightedly, springing to their feet, their eyes twinkling.  “My dear Hope, we all have to have some sort of fun!”  

“That is fair and understandable,” Hob said, laughing.  “But don’t forget one very important thing.”  He paused, pointedly, smirking back at them when they tilted their head curiously.  “I might be the first of your siblings to prank you right back.”  That earned him another bright laugh from Desire and he stood, stretching.  

“Now, before he worries too much, I’m going to go talk to Dream.  I have your Sigil in my gallery,”  he shook his head and huffed a little bit at how natural and normal that sentence sounded.  “I’ll ring and we can start some training classes.”  

“I’m looking forward to it, Hope,” Desire called.  “Safe journey!” 

Hob grinned and felt the swell of hope from Desire - the hope that this would truly change things for the family of Endless for the better.  But now, all he wanted to see was Dream.  Looking at the mask hanging in Desire’s gallery, instead, he let himself reach for the place they’d come from, that they’d all been summoned to and stepped onto the dark sandy beach.  

Dream was beside him in an instant and Hob smiled up at him, at the shadows crawling around him, the desperate, bright fractals of his eyes.  He kept still under Dream’s desperate roving gaze and leaned into the hands that were holding onto his arms, clearly afraid to let go.  “I’m here, dove, I’m here.”  

“They did not hurt you.”  Dream’s voice was an echoing storm, vicious and violent in its rage as he surrounded Hob.  

Hob smiled rather helplessly and shook his head, leaning into Dream with a happy sigh.  “No, of course they didn’t.  We had a really good chat, actually.”  He pressed his arms into the shadows around Dream and felt the otherness of Dream intensify for a few moments before he was holding onto a slim waist.  Breathing in deep, nuzzling into Dream’s neck, he gave himself another moment before he pulled back to look at the Kindly Ones, standing in the middle of the remaining Endless.  

“Be right back,” he promised Dream, grinning up at him before turning to them.  He lifted his chin.  “I have chosen my punishment for Desire of the Endless.”  Hob didn’t miss the way all the others tensed, even if it wasn’t as obvious in some.  

The Kindly Ones growled low with power and Hob stepped closer to them and lifted his chin.  “We have both sworn so, on all that we are - an unbreakable vow.”  The air around him went abruptly still and he grinned at the surprise on Death’s face.  “Their punishment is to be one of my teachers.  To teach me how to be… what all Endless are.  To teach me why they do what they do, and how, and how to use this power.”  

“This is what you wish, Hope?”  “That is all?” “Why not more, why not take all from them?” 

The three voices echoed together, pressing in closer to him and Hob stood firm, staring them down, his voice growing in power to match theirs.  “I demanded the right to name the price, which you willingly granted.  I have named my price, and Desire of the Endless has sworn to pay it.”  They shouted together in response, a wordless screech across the space, wind whipping around him, but Hob kept his eyes on them.  

“I will not be the reason for this family to be torn asunder further!” Hope thundered, his voice echoing across the space.  “Endless or not, anthropomorphic personifications or not, they are a family that has lost enough, and I hope-” Hope snarled the word, stepping closer to the Kindly Ones, a bright snap of music echoing around them all.  “-you understand that by raising me to Endless, I will bring stability to those that need it.  A beacon among the overwhelming.  The need for your punishment is done!” 

In an abrupt rush of power, Hob felt the Kindly Ones leave and sagged forward, breathing hard, his ears popping as there was a sudden vacuum of power.  His chest heaved in air and spots dotted his vision before he managed to focus.  The sound of a thump on his left had him turning to look at Destiny, whose book was on the ground, pages rapidly turning.  His power knew what that meant before he did and his eyes widened.  

Hob didn’t know how much was being rewritten thanks to what he had just done, and would do, but when Destiny picked up the book again, there was the faintest of smiles on his face, one that reminded him of Dream in their earliest days.  He inclined his head and grinned when Destiny returned the gesture before turning to walk away.  

“Well, welcome to the family, in one way or another,” Death said with a grin, reaching out to give Hob a hug.  She squeezed him tight.  “Take care of him, won’t you?”  

“Always,” Hob promised her, smiling wide before he turned to Despair and Delirium, who were both watching him in trepidation.  With a quick glance to Dream, who was staring at him stone faced, he hurried over to them and stopped between them.

Despair frowned and took a step back, holding her hooked finger tighter against her chest.

“DoN’t WoRrY!  PrEtTy OnE gOnNa HeLp!  JuSt LiKe I HeLpEd HiM!”  Delirium spun in a circle and laughed in delight when Hope did a similar spin to stop in front of her and her sister.  

“I’m certainly going to try,” Hob promised.  “And while I think Dream and Desire will teach me much of what I want and need to know, I want to come visit both of you too, if you’ll allow me.”  

“Hope?” Despair spat.  “Visit me?  Why?”  

Hob looked at her and smiled.  “Because you are my opposite.  How can I understand the heights of hope if I cannot understand the depth of Despair?”  He gestured to Dream.  “Is Dream not both Nightmares and Dreams?  You are the other side of my coin, and I wish to know you as any of the others.”  

“I am not kind,” Despair said.  

“No, you are not,” Hob agreed.  “But there is a place for that among all living things.  Just because it is not pretty or happy does not mean it does not have a place, and an important one.  You are as important as I am.  Without one, the other becomes unbalanced.”  

Despair scowled.  “If Desire will help you, I will too.”  

Hob smiled at her.  “Thank you.  Safe travels.”  Once she had left, he turned to Delirium and found her sitting on the ground, staring at the sky.  He sat down next to her.  

“ArE DeSiRe AnD DrEaM gOnNa StOp FiGhTiNg?  I dOn’T LiKe WhEn ThEy FiGhT!” Delirium said, knocking the tips of her toes together.  “WaNt ThEm To StOp.  MaKeS mE sAd.”  

Hob glanced over at Dream, whose face was still a blank, alabaster mask.  But at least he hadn’t left yet.  That was something.  Something important.  “I think they will always argue, and fight,” he started.  “But I have Desire’s promise that no longer will they try to hurt Dream or me.  I’m going to get Dream to promise the same.”  

Delirium leaped up to her feet, a wide grin on her face.  “ReAlLy?”  

“Yes, really,” Hob answered her, watching as she bounced in delight, spinning around in a circle before she disappeared with a wave and a pop. 

Hob looked up to Dream and made his way back over to the other Endless and held out his hand.  Dream’s lips thinned and Hob more than half expected to see him stalk off and refuse the gesture, but then long fingers were tangled with his, holding on tight.  He let out a sigh of relief and stepped in closer, a faint tremble in his hands making him stuff his free hand in his pocket.  

“You wish to go home.”  Dream’s voice was a quiet statement.  

Hob let out a small sigh.  Truthfully, he wanted to go back before he’d been kidnapped by Desire and sent to Hell that had set off this whole mess of events.  But he didn’t have luxury, instead he had a steadily growing power inside him that he needed to work to control and grow, and a we’re-more-than-friends thing to sort out with the Lord of Dreams.  

Well, one of those, at least, was easier than the others, and maybe they could get all of the shouting out of the way so they could curl up and just enjoy being together for a few hours.  The thrill at that reminder, that they would end up together made him grin and hold onto Dream that much tighter.  Time to push forward, like always.  

“I’d like to go to the Dreaming, actually,” Hob corrected.  He paused, before adding.  “And I want the whole me to go to the Dreaming, not my mind.”  When Dream’s eyes widened he grinned.  “Yeah, I can do that now, can’t I?” 

“You can,” Dream agreed, his voice soft.  “You are Hope, after all.”  

Being Named by Dream was different than being Named by the others.  There was a more profound energy to it, a statement of fact of who he was, not a name as a title.  “You’d better still call me Hob.  That hasn’t changed.”  He leaned in a little closer and started to grin.  “We’ll have to start a contest, see who has more names, me or you.” 

Dream nodded and carefully poured sand around them.  “To the Dreaming it is then.”  

For the first time, rather than sand that slowly cradled him to sleep, Hob felt Dream’s power surrounded them both and bring them through a swirl of stars and galaxies to the Dreaming, to the place that was his home, that was him, a corner of his power carved out of the universe for any and all souls to visit.  The place that he had seen during his unmaking and creation.  When they touched back down on what was the floor of the castle, Hob stumbled, trying to reorient himself.  Dream tightened his hold and pulled him close and he laughed, grateful.  

“Thanks, that was a bit, uh.  More, than the last few times,” Hob admitted, rubbing the back of his head.  He looked up at the ceiling of the castle and relaxed at the sight of familiar stars and galaxies swirling in them.  “I could feel where we were going - where this is, and how it is you more than before.”  He tossed his hair out of his face and relaxed again.  “I can feel the Dreaming now, too.”  Hob grinned at Dream.  “Pretty cool.”  

When Dream said nothing, only stood with him in the Throne Room with him, the two of them facing the stairs that led to Dream’s Throne, he sighed.  “All right, time for an argument.  Come on.”  Hob tugged Dream to the stairs, to the platform halfway up that he favored and sat down on Dream’s favorite step, looking up at him.  

“I do not wish to argue with you,” Dream said, standing in front of Hob stiffly.  

Hob raised his eyebrows.  “So are you just going to brood and be pissed at me?  Cause that’s what I see as the alternative.”  When Dream said nothing, only glared at him, Hob stared right back at him.  

Dream turned away.  “That accomplishes nothing.”  

“Right,” Hob agreed.  “Which is why we’re going to have a very dumb argument, I’m going to remind you that I love you, Dream of the Endless, that I am going nowhere, that there is nothing forbidden about being in a relationship with me, straight from the Kindly Ones themselves, and that you’re rather stuck with me!” 

“Yet you chose Desire as your teacher,” Dream growled, glaring at Hob over his shoulder.  

Hob glared right back at him, raising an eyebrow.  “And you clearly weren’t listening.  I chose them as one of my teachers, you jealous ass.”  

Dream spun back around to face him, shadows growing around him.  “You seemed perfectly willing to give them a light sentence after their attempted murder of you, after everything!”  

“And maybe you should ask me what else I negotiated,” Hob snapped back.  “For the record, I got their oath that never again would they try to cause you or I harm.  Either by design or their own direct intervention.”  

Dream reared back, blinking in surprise.  “You what.”  

Hob smirked, nodding.  “Yeah, I ended your war with your sibling.  You’re welcome for that, by the way.”  He sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair, getting it out of his face.  “I want you both as my teachers, Dream.  I want to learn from all of you.  I touch each of you, all of the Endless, and you know it, I have to learn from all of you, even if it’s you I am tied to in every way I wish to be.”  

Dream was silent and Hob stared down at the marble below his feet, sighing.  The weight on his shoulders, what he was, what he was meant to embody now felt heavier by the second and it was exhausting knowing what he was responsible for, now.  He heard Dream step closer and looked up at him, offering him a wry smile when Dream knelt in front of him.  

“You shouldn’t be kneeling for me here and you know it,” Hob said with a snort.  “Sit on the step next to me.”  

“Hope.”  

The word, his Name, the Call, echoed and reverberated through him, pulling him back, settling him back into his body so he was sitting in front of Dream with all-too-knowing eyes that sparkled with stars.  He sighed in relief and gave Dream a shy smile.  “Thanks.”  

Dream nodded and shifted to sit beside Hob, his coat sprawled out behind them both.  

“You’ll have to teach me to do that,” Hob said, pressing his shoulder tightly against Dream’s.  “That’s where I want to start.  You teaching me control, Desire teaching me how to use my power.  You’re both masters of those respective avenues, and I’m the bridge between you both.” 

“I can do that,” Dream agreed.  “If you are certain that is what you want.”  

Hob looked back up at the stars in the ceiling and smiled at them, his shoulders relaxing.  “Of course it is.  I can feel a lot of things I don’t think I’m supposed to right now because of how broken things are.  That’s why Destiny’s book changed.  You’ve all been missing catalysts to push for change.”  

Hob paused and took a deep breath, his voice softening.  “I got Desire to believe me by telling them what I desired more than anything else,” he admitted.  Dream was looking at him now, his expression open and curious so Hob took another breath and kept going.  “After the Kindly Ones forced my Naming, that first time, and I felt everything that being Endless was the first time, I could feel all of you, everything you touched and I realized…” he swallowed.  

“I realized that, for the first time since Death refused me her gift, I now had something I never thought I could have again.  A family.”   

Dream inhaled sharply.  “Hob.”  

Hob laughed, sad and poignant.  “How could I ask for any true punishment for Desire when a part of me was rejoicing in having a family who I wouldn’t watch grow old and die every few decades?”  A tear slid down his cheek.  “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much hope as I did in that moment, knowing that, truly, for the first time in centuries, I was not alone any longer.”  

“You were never alone,” Dream said, his voice as soft as a cherry blossom petal.  

Hob lifted his eyes to look at Dream and grinned, leaning in to press his forehead against Dream’s shoulder.  “I know.  But you know what I mean.  It’s different now.  Now that I’m Endless.”  There was a nod of acknowledgment against his shoulder.    

“Do you still…” Dream paused, frowning.  

Hob raised his head and looked at Dream’s profile, taking his turn to look at the ceiling above them.  He waited, trying to be patient as Dream found the words.  

“Wish to pursue a relationship with me?  Knowing all that you do now about me, about us?” Dream asked, clenching the hand furthest from Hob in his robes.  “I understand if you do not.”  

Hob sighed and felt Dream tense.  “You are an idiot.  And you need to start listening to me when I say things.”  Moving quickly, he straddled Dream’s thighs and pinned him back to the marble stairs, meeting the barely-tempered fury there with a low growl.  “What part of ‘I love you’ do you not understand, Dream of the Endless?”   

“There is a difference-” 

Hob took a deep breath and pulled on the power inside him, letting it reverberate out of him, into the air around them.  “No, there is not,” he interrupted, the words echoing in their finality.  “I love you, Dream.  You are my other half.  I am here, I am what I am, because of you.  I am yours, and that is not going to change.”   He hesitated, quieting the surging power around them as best he could before he continued, softer.  “I, I hope that you feel the same, in some way.”  

Dream frowned.  “Have I left you in doubt of how I feel?”  

“Well,” Hob said with a faint laugh, reaching up to comb his fingers through Dream’s hair, draping his arms over Dream’s shoulders.  “That was before I got ascended, uh, is that the right word, even?  Anyway, that was before the whole Endless thing and murder-that-wasn’t happened.”  

“Do you think this changes things?” Dream asked.  “It does not.  If anything, it makes them… perhaps easier.”  

Hob raised his eyebrows and settled closer to Dream, pressing up against him.  “Does it?”  He felt Dream’s power fluctuate under him and then it was surging up to touch him and he grinned, leaning in to press their foreheads together.  “Because my mind won’t melt at seeing your true form?” 

“That,” Dream agreed, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Hob’s hair, tilting his head back to expose his neck, brushing his lips against the column of his throat, just to feel his blood pound in his veins.  “And I will not need to hold back with you when I have you, and when you have me.”  

“Fuck,” Hob breathed, whining low in his throat as Dream dragged his lips down the length of his throat.  “Dream, please…” 

“While I want nothing more than to have you right here, at the Heart of the Dreaming,” Dream paused and gentled his hold in Hob’s hair.  “It would be for the best if you were able to control yourself, at least moderately so, first.”  

Hob groaned and pressed their foreheads together.  “Oh fuck you for getting me all riled up, I’m going to make you pay for that.”  

“I confess I am looking forward to seeing you try.”  

Hob narrowed his eyes and saw the bright twinkle of silver in Dream’s eyes, the curve of his lips and pressed him back against the cool marble, kissing him for all he was worth.  Even if they couldn’t go further now, it was worth it to kiss Dream again and again.  And maybe in the very near future, he could take his time kissing every inch of Dream that he could reach.  

Dream broke free from the kiss, gasping as his head fell back and Hob started to kiss down his throat.  “You are making it very difficult to remember it is a good idea to wait.”  

“Good,” Hob growled, rolling his hips down hard, grinding against Dream, swallowing his gasp with another kiss.  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of this?”  

Dream chuckled against Hob’s lips and stretched out on the marble behind him, letting it mold itself to their comfort, relaxing into the kisses.  “Perhaps a bit longer than I’ve hoped for this, but now we both want with equal ardor.”  

Hob shuddered and pulled back enough to glare at Dream.  “That’s cheating.”  

“You did it to me first,” Dream challenged, raising his eyebrows.  

“Stop looking so insufferably smug, it makes me want to kiss you forever,” Hob said, glaring at Dream without heat.  

“Is that meant to be a deterrent?  Or an incentive?”  

Hob rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss him again.  “Shut up, dove.”  

Dream pulled him in closer, reclining back against the stone, his hips hitching up impatiently against Hob’s as they groaned together.  Perhaps it would be perfectly fine if they were to-

“Uh, boss?  You might wanna look outside.”  

Hob pulled back from the kiss and glared at Matthew whose back was pointedly turned to them and looked outside.  He blinked.  “It’s raining roses.”  

Dream followed his gaze and smiled.  “So it is.”  

“Was that me or you?” Hob asked, looking back at him.  He had had the thought of laying Dream out on a bed of roses for him to worship, but it had been a vague, unformed thought.  

“Me,” Dream admitted softly.  He stroked a finger along Hob’s cheek.  “The Dreaming is me, and it’s a reflection of how I feel for you.”  

Hob grinned.  “The Dreaming is one giant mood ring.  You can’t get all broody on me now!”  He stole another kiss, hard and quick, before he brushed their noses together, smiling into the galaxy-bright eyes of Dream.  “So what is it that you feel for me, huh?”  

Dream hummed, still stroking Hob’s cheek as he stared at him.  “Hope’s eyes shine golden, you know,” he said, softly.  “Golden, striking, captivating, and so very bright.”  

Hob’s breath caught and he stared at Dream, power flaring his chest at the almost command of Dream’s words and he felt Dream’s sharp inhale with how tightly they were pressed together.  “Yeah?” he managed, his voice hoarse.  

“It is a singular color with the full breadth of possibility beneath it,” Dream continued.  “For that’s what Hope is.  Endless possibility for all things.  All dreams, all desires, all despairs.  You are… possibility.”  

Hob blinked hard against the threatening tears, but he didn’t look away from Dream, from the web he had started to weave with his voice alone.  “Dream.”  

“You ask what I feel for you,” Dream stated.  “To call it love alone would be to diminish the sheer breadth of what my being is able to feel for you.”  He shifted a fraction, cupping Hob’s face in his hands.  “However, you deserve these words, so I shall make the best attempt possible.”  

Hob’s breath caught, and he tightened the hold on his lover, a tear streaking down his cheek that was almost instantly wiped away.

“To put it simply,” Dream continued.  “You, Hob Gadling, Hope of the Endless, are my dream.”  He smiled, faintly.  “If I were to attempt to give words to it in more detail, you are my guiding light that all Dreams hope to become one day.  You are my reminder that even in our darkest times, better ones await ahead of us.  You remind me that despite my mistakes, and shortcomings, of which I have been assured are numerous, I can grow, change, learn, and become better.  You make me feel as though I am in a forever-Dream, never to be touched by Nightmares, for what Nightmares would withstand your light?” 

Hob clenched his eyes shut, more tears leaking out as he held onto Dream as tight as he could.  “Love…” 

“And even beyond that,” Dream breathed, leaning up to kiss Hob.  “You give me true hope for the future, not because of what you are, but because with you in it, how can I not feel hopeful?  How can I not be sure that I will weather the storms that arrive on our shores because you are there beside me?”  He brushed their lips together, the faintest press of skin on skin.  “How can I not dream of you beyond all things when you inspire such in me?”  

“Shut up you magnificent bastard,” Hob groaned, pressing Dream to the marble again, kissing him desperately.  “Just shut up and kiss me,” he ordered, losing himself in the shadowed embrace of Dream, sinking into him with another happy sigh.  

A caw, loud and insistent broke them apart and Hob groaned.  “Matthew, bugger off.”  

“Nope, now Mervyn is complaining about the rose petals he’ll have to clean up, and boss-lady is getting that look in her eye that means I had better tell the two of you to cool it down, so I volunteered as tribute!” Matthew cawed.  

Despite himself, Hob laughed and stole one more small kiss from Dream’s pouting lips before getting himself upright, holding out his hand to Dream.  “Consider this a temporary respite,” he said, pointing a finger at Matthew.  The cawing laugh in response was good enough, for now. 

Dream stood up and straightened out his jacket, watching as the roses outside (and inside) began to subside in the speed of their falling.  He cleared his throat and turned to face Hob once again.  “It seems pertinent to distract ourselves.”  

Hob laughed and winked at Dream.  “So it does.  Any suggestions?”  

“You should tell me,” Dream said, gesturing to the castle around him.  “Unless you wish to go home to rest, tell me what you want now, and I shall endeavor to make it come true for you.”  

“What do I want now…” Hob asked, rocking back on his heels, humming in consideration.  He gave Dream a long look, dragging his eyes slowly up and down the length of Dream, smirking faintly.  It was worth it for the widening of Dream’s pupils, for the galaxies that flared in his eyes.  But there would be time enough for that later, hours they could spend exploring each other in every way.  

Hob took Dream’s hand and squeezed it, lifting it so he could kiss the back.  “I want you to show me the Dreaming.  As you see it, as I’ll see it now as Hope.  I want to see your home, Dream.  Will you show it to me?”  

“With pleasure,” Dream whispered, leaning down to press his face to Hob’s hair, his nose pressed to his temple.  “After all, it’s half-yours as my Consort.”  

Hob’s eyes snapped wide as the sand whisked them away, thinking of the castle he had been building on the beach at the edge of the Dreaming.  “Consort?  Dream!” 

Dream’s pleased laughter echoed across the Dreaming and Hob felt a bolt of hope, hope for the future, for them from Dream, and it was the most intoxicating taste of his power yet, because it was theirs. Hope’s, and Dream’s.  Together, as they should be. 

Chapter Text

His classes were done for the day.  

So was his grading, and his essays.  

He didn't need to be at the pub tonight, nor did he have plans with any of his coworkers.  Or lessons with Desire or Dream.  

He had nothing to do tonight, nothing at all.  

Which was, perhaps, why he was sitting here.  

Hob picked up a small bit of sand and formed it in his hand, concentrating enough to shift it into a spoon, then a fork, then a knife, then a tissue, before letting the sand pour through his fingers.  Control was always done in small pieces, not just the big ones.  He picked up another small handful, and imagined a teddy bear, then a candle, then a marker, then a sword, smiling at each of them.  

If he was avoiding looking at the castle in front of him, the castle that had long since been finished, the castle that he had seen gleaming in gold, with ivory towers that shone during his ascension... well.  There was a reason for it.  Sitting here, where Dream would create Dreams and Nightmares, well.  There was comfort here, and no one, save Lucienne or Dream would come looking for him.  

But.  

He could feel the pull of the castle, now.  The tug to push and make it real, to have it be his home, to house Hope and...

Hob looked back down at the sand and picked up a small bit again.  A pen.  A water bottle.  A coaster.  A book.  Sand again.  He let out a low breath and repeated the exercise again, and again, forcing himself to give it different shapes each time.  

The problem was not the castle, the problem was where the castle would go, what it would be.  The last thing he wanted was a realm of his own to preside over, that would take him away from Dream, and from his teaching and students.  So what was he supposed to do?  Hope needed a space, and he wanted a space, he even knew where.  But, Prince Consort or not... the Dreaming was not his to claim a space in.  

Reaching up, Hob took off the silver circlet adorned with shining musical notes, pressing his fingers to each of them as they rang with the note.  He smiled and stroked over them.  This was his mark as what he was, and he loved wearing it here, loved that it marked him, not just as Hope, but as Prince Consort of the Dreaming.  Hob let out a slow breath and lifted the circlet to put back into his hair.  

He still had several hours before he needed to be back in the Waking World, and perhaps Dream had finished with-

"You've been here for several hours now."  

Hob winced and looked back down at his castle and shook himself before standing to approach Dream.  "I have.  I wanted to work on control and practice.  It's easiest to do so here.  The Sands of Creation make it easier."  

Dream nodded.  "But there is something on your mind."  

Almost on reflex, Hob looked back to the castle and the vision that he could see in his mind's eye and how his power responded to it, trying to reach out to bring the castle to life in all of the ways that he could.  He bit down a low growl and wrestled his power back under control before looking at Dream.  "I'm sorry, I-"

"Is it ready?" Dream asked, looking down at the castle.  "I haven't noticed you make additional improvements to it in the last several trips we've made here."  

Hob swallowed and followed his eyes to the castle.  It gleamed, golden and bright, the musical notes on the entrance nearly dancing in the low light of the sun.  "I don't know," he admitted, and at least the words were honest ones.  

Dream nodded.  "Mine went through dozens of iterations before the one I have now.  You'll be able to refine it as soon as it is made."  He stepped closer to the castle and observed it, stepping around it, taking in all of it.  "It is very well put together.  What do you feel is missing?"  

Hob let out a breath, and he could feel the care in the question, Dream wanting to know, wanting to help, because despite everything, he and Desire had stepped up and were always, always willing to help.  "I..." He bit down the rest of the words and looked up at the stars high above the Dreaming. 

Hope tilted his head back down and looked at Dream, meeting his eyes with a faint smile as he sat in the sand once more.  "I know not where to put it."  

Dream took a step forward and sat beside Hope, turning his attention to the castle.  "That would make sense, considering the Waking World is your realm.  Dropping a castle into it, would be conspicuous at best."  

Hope laughed, his head falling back before he leaned against Dream, his eyes fluttering shut at the comfort in the gesture.  No more did Dream flinch away from him like this, no more did he worry, and it made all the parts of him want to sing.  He reached out to take Dream's hand and squeeze it.  "He wishes to ask you for something and is afraid."  

Dream hummed, turning his face into Hope's hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.  "He is fearless, as you yourself are.  What is it that he fears about this?"  

Hope tilted his head up to look at Dream and smile.  "Your Consort knows not his precise place, Dream.  What he may ask for and what he may not.  Your Consort is an Endless, with the needs of one, and that has not, and will not change.  You know the answer to the question you ask."  

"You're not being particularly helpful you know," Dream teased, smiling against Hope's hair.  

"Never.  Hopeful, yes.  Helpful?  Not ever," Hope said with a laugh.  "But oh, he is worried now, so I shall let him step forward again."  

"Wait," Dream said, reaching out to brush his fingers against Hope's cheek.  "You, he... the separation does not bother you?  You are both all right?"  

Hope tapped a finger to his jaw.  "There is no separation in a concerning sense.  But it is easier for him, having once been human, to have a part of him that is dedicated to the human experience, and then myself, and all that I am.  It allows him to process and work through what he is now."  

Dream nodded and relaxed at the explanation.  "That makes sense."  And it did.  He pressed a kiss to Hope's cheek.  "I shall see what I can get him to admit."  

Hob sighed and leaned against Dream properly as soon as he felt his power settle back under his skin and grumbled.  "Anthropomorphic personification that was formerly human makes for an interesting fucking experience most of the time," he said with a sigh, rubbing his temples.  

"I do not wish to imagine," Dream said, and it was the truth.  He had only ever been what he was.  Imagining being something else was... beyond his desire to imagine.  And what a funny thing, the usual wince that would have accompanied his sibling's name was not present.  "But what is it that you need that you are not getting?"  

"I need a place," Hob said with another sigh, kicking out a foot in the direction of the castle.  "There needs to be a place for Hope.  For, for all the reasons that you yourself have a castle.  But I don't..." he frowned.  "I don't want my own realm.  I have one, already, and to add another would only burden me further."  

Dream hummed and looked to the castle.  "Understandable," he agreed.  "But the castle is meant to go somewhere.  Where do you envision it?"  

Hob dug his fingers into the sand and ordered himself to take a deep breath that he no longer needed.  He turned to look to the Dreaming, pulling the images into the distance from where they were sitting.  He swallowed awkwardly and looked back down again.  "I wish to put it here, in the Dreaming.  I, there's a forest, that often manifests near the Castle?  The Arcana is named Frederick, and just behind him, there is... space."  He pressed his fingers deeper into the sand.  "Of course if you don't want me there, I can always-"

"Hob," Dream interrupted.  "What is your concern?"  

"The Dreaming isn't mine," Hob answered immediately.  "I can no sooner make a decision about it than you could any of your Sibling's domains."  

Dream tilted his head and reached up to cup Hob's chin in his palm, studying him.  "And yet, none of them are the Consort and fellow ruler of the Dreaming, are they?"  He swept his thumb along the stubble on his cheek.  "Do you think I would deny you this?"  

Hob took a shaky breath.  "I think the realm isn't mine and you, you should always get a say of what's in it, and how it comes to be there."  

Dream held out his hand and easily tugged the two of them into standing positions.  Looking at the castle and then to Hob, he smiled, turning to lean into a kiss.  "The Dreaming is part yours now," he breathed.  "Never again will she be left alone while the two of us breathe, and never again will she feel the cut of pride without the temperance of understanding." 

Hob laughed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dream’s shoulders, pressing up against him, the tension draining out of his own as they remained, lingering together.  

“Now,” Dream said, shifting to kiss the circlet on Hob’s head.  “It is time for your castle to be finished, my Hob, my Hope.”  

A shudder rolled up his spine and Hob gave Dream a look. “Now you’re just teasing,” he grumbled, pulling away with one last quick kiss to look at the castle in the sand, shining and pulsing with power now.  He stepped closer to it and took a deep breath before looking back to Dream.  “You’ll, you’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone, or anything?”  

“You would no sooner hurt a creature in the Dreaming than you would yourself.  Trust yourself.  Trust your power.”  Dream stepped back and offered the one reassurance he knew that Hob wished for.  “If it is needed, I will keep you all safe.”  

“Right,” Hob gave a nod and looked back to the castle now.  Trust his power, right.  Should be easy, in theory.  He closed his eyes and imagined the Dreaming, where the castle was going to go, the mirrored partner to Dream’s own castle, not as opulent, but welcoming, a home, filled with joy and music, a succor from the storm of life where Dreamers and others could find their way forward.  

Hope was faith in the ability to move forward.  Hope was comfort, music, light in the darkness.  Hope was what had remained trapped in Pandora’s box, Hope was the force that drove humanity when nothing else remained, Hope was what had restored the Dreaming, had defeated Lucifer to bring Dream back to full power.  

Hope was… 

“Let it go, now.”  

Hope let out a laugh at the voice echoing across all his senses.  Yes, that was hope, was his hope, for a future, for a life, for a love that was Endless.  It was his hope in every way.  Music swelled around them, deafeningly loud and Hope held out his hands, keeping his eyes closed as he began to sing the melody.  

Dream had watched his siblings wield their power in every possible way over millennia - the subtle gentleness of Death, the pounding drive of Desire, the freefall of Despair, the wild joy of Delight, even the wrath of Destruction.  They were all beautiful and unique in their own ways, but none of them, none of them could compare to the beauty of Hope when the full strength of his power was at last unleashed.

In an instant, they were gone from the Edge of Creation - to the spot Hob had chosen for his castle and Dream felt the pounding drumbeat and echo of the song that Hope was summoning his magic around.  The entire Dreaming shook with it, golden power arcing through the air, all of it coalescing on the empty space in front of them, where the small castle stood.  Dream smiled, let himself relax and savor the strength of his Consort’s power.  

One after another, Dreams and Nightmares gathered at the edge of the Dreaming behind him, all of their eyes trained on Hope in front of them, the way the music continued to swell, the power growing stronger.  It was a matter of a thought, of an instant to settle the Dreamers into pleasant thoughts before beckoning his Nightmares and Dreams closer.  What they were watching, bearing witness to, would likely never happen again.  An Endless stepping properly into their power for the first time ever.  

When Lucienne approached him, Dream let himself grin at her, unabashed and in love, as Hope took another step forward, the Dreaming roaring under the weight of his power.  

“My lord-” 

“Watch,” Dream ordered, nearly vibrating with the magic surging toward him, turning to the castle as the golden power gathering above them under the pounding of the song Hope was still building at last began to descend.  “Have them all watch, Lucienne.”  He smiled at her again and felt the wild rush as the wave of golden light descended toward them, turning to sprint toward Hope as he, at last, began to sing, the words echoing across the entire Dreaming as the castle burst to life under and around them.  

lalalai

lalalai

When our heartbeats collide

I won’t mind,

In a place we’ve never been before

I’m reaching out for the moon and stars beyond it

The entire castle was rising up to meet them, moons, stars, music notes, gleaming alabaster, marble and dozens of other columns growing as Hope raced into the castle, magic swirling around them in a violent burst of creation.  Dream dashed after him, felt the magic spin around him, pulling him along, tugging for inspiration as he felt the castle at long last take the shape that it had wished to.  

lalalai

lalalai

Is it you I will find?

Though I feel left behind sometimes

When you close the door

I wanna know who you are

I wanna know it all

When Hope spun to him, his eyes shining nothing but brilliant gold, joy etched on his face, Dream grinned back at him, racing towards him as the lyrics of the song twisted around them, growing and changing with every passing second.  Never again would they remain left behind or locked behind closed doors.  Hope, his Hob, wished to know it all, and he would have it.  Dream spun, ducking under a wild spurt of magic that grew a staircase, then a stain glass window, twisting and turning off into the castle.  

Hope laughed again, and Dream wanted to echo it, his power, the Dreaming, reaching out in response to the magic running wild as the castle grew by the second, exploding under the weight of the song that Hope was imbuing into every part of it.  There was no piece left untouched, no piece left apart from the magic, and all of it answered, all of it sang at the command of Hope.  

The moment that life hits you

You can’t avoid the issue

You’re disconnected from the world

You thought you were a part of

A surge of Hope’s power hit Dream at those words, making him stumble and fall into the welcoming circle of Hope’s arms.  The truth of them left him shaking, but then he was being kissed and tugged along, magic spinning around the both of them.  It had been the truth once, but it was no longer, and the certainty of that, Hope’s certainty of it settled into him in a way that he had not thought possible.  

But if you close your eyes and let go

Of the mirage you haven’t met

Nobody else decides the words you see in your heart

Dream felt those words breathed against his lips by Hope, and when he met the shining golden eyes, and the familiar recognition there that told him this was both Hob and Hope speaking to him, he let himself be pulled into a kiss.  Beneath them, a tower grew, launching them both into the sky as Hope held onto him, magic enveloping the castle wildly, the song still echoing behind them all.  When Hope at last pulled free, there was mischievousness in his eyes as he pulled him toward the edge of the tower.  

Hope danced on the edge, and beneath them, a fiery whirl of power burned, and Dream could feel it, even here, growing with the weight of the song.  At the command to jump into the fire, Hope leapt and Dream didn’t hesitate to follow.  

Line up,

The party’s over here

Come one, come all, jump into the fire

They landed in a giant room, fire whirling around them, windows, walls, galaxies, stars, moments of a life lived six hundred years or more casting themselves amongst the flames as they etched themselves into the walls.  Hope, hope for the future, all of it seared into the walls to inspire and encourage.  Dream watched Hope dance forward, more of the magic curling around him now as he threw it at the walls, indiscriminately, with no thought beyond what he was, and what he wished to build.  It was breathtaking.  

Step up,

We are whatever we wanna be

We are free, that’s all we desire

When you pass through the veil of fantasy

There’s a world with a rhythm for you and me

Hope pulled him along, with both hand and magic, the truth of those words resonating through the entire Dreaming.  Whatever they wanted to be, they were free, after having fought for so long, they were free, in the veil of fantasy, a world that was nothing but theirs.  Dream felt the weight of the Dreaming shifting and changing, and beneath all of it, a new rhythm being added, just like the song had said.  There was music being weaved into the very epicenter and Heart of the Dreaming, Hope entwining himself so deeply that they’d never be sundered again.  

lalalai

lalalai

How can I find a love

Lost in time, there’s an answer in the stars for me

All the way across the galaxy, go on forever

Dream’s eyes snapped up to meet Hope’s, now far across the room, holding out his hand, reaching out for him.  The memory of 1889, of leaving Hob behind, then failing to meet him a hundred years later… He ran, galaxies and stars bursting from his coat behind him as he sprinted, running to Hope, because he knew the answer, they both knew the answer, they just had to reach for it.  

lalalai

lalalai

I will follow the signs ’cause I know

When I reach the end it’s you I’ll see

Though we can’t waste our time here

It’s now or never

Then, Hope, in raw form, pulling him closer, Hope taking his hand as he sang, of being the one at the end, where they would be together.  The shadows of his cloak tangled with the golden music bleeding off of Hope, the two of them twinning together, tangling together, his power unable to resist laying claim, just as Hope claimed him.  

Now or never, the finality of it all, a growing tornado of power around them, stone, stars, and galaxies swirling around them.  Hope stepped in close, his singing never ceasing for a second, even as Dream and the Dreaming felt ready to be torn asunder from the weight of the love of two Endless.  Never meant to be, but were.  It was now or never.

The relentless force of nature

The visage of our future

Sometimes I know it feels like fate is never on our side

Fear, cold and abrupt, sank into him at the words, and Dream stared at the seriousness of Hope, even as his power swirled, tighter and stronger around them, shielding them from all.  Fate wasn’t on their side, but what could stand against them like this?  Dream pressed his forehead against Hope’s and felt the tug on his power, pulling him in, giving back just as much, reaching out for him in a way that only another Endless ever could.  

But as I stand inside the vortex

I wanna have you here beside me

You’re all I need to leap into a perfect sky!

Dream felt the tug on his power, the surge of the music once again, the reminder that they were together, that they would be beside each other.  At the leap, the magic lifted them and suddenly they were sliding, Hope laughing in joy as the magic carried them on a spinning path to the outside of the castle, up and arching over the entrance, a giant musical note taking form under the press of his power.  Dream leaped as the path ended, and then they were down, sliding once again, Hope holding onto his hand as they moved together. 

Stand up,

The party’s over here

Come one, come all, jump into the fire

Dream laughed, glad the sound was stolen away by the roar of the music, and Hope’s voice rising above it all as they leaped again, together, sliding down what had to be a ceiling forming, only to launch themselves down another twisting musical note that rose above the castle.  Like this, he could see the sky in the Dreaming, glowing gold and pulsing with a light he’d never seen before, Hope permeating every inch of him there was, in every way.

Keep up,

Let go of your fears

Stand proud and tall, we will never grow tired

Sliding to a stop in front of the castle that at last towered above them, Dream grinned proudly at Hope, but the song wasn’t done, even as Hope stood tall beside him, still singing, this time at the Dreams and Nightmares standing in front of them, watching the show that Hope had put on for all of them.  He’d integrated himself into the Dreaming seamlessly, he could see the shoots of golden power through the Dreams, and even some of the Nightmares.  

Line up,

The party’s right here

Come one, come all, let’s follow the north star

Dream grinned, bright and wild, at Hope, as golden eyes swung to his, naming him the North Star, before turning to the Dreams and Nightmares to sing to them.  Inside the castle ahead of them, and on the outside, the gold and white stone shone with stars that sparkled, galaxies scattered across the material and magic inside.  

Step in,

You are whatever you wanna be

You are free just like all of us are

“Come,” he ordered his creations, dashing into the castle once more with Hope at his side.  The magic surged around them, and Hope swung himself into a dance as he sang, leading them all deeper into a castle that felt far more integrated into the Dreaming than even his own.  Dream did not let Hope spin him into dancing, but it was a close thing, even as Hope let out another laugh and Dreams and Nightmares surged into the castle behind them.  

Dance away a world you never loved from the start

It’s our ride to the future, are you ready to depart?

When had he last felt excited for the future?  Dream looked to Hope, who had sung the words directly to him, with his Dreams and Nightmares around them, they and his realm singing with the power that Hope was pouring into all of them.  It was a new future, a new world, that Hope was building into the foundations of the Dreaming herself.  Was he ready?  Ready for everything this would bring?  

Dream lifted Hope’s hand to his lips and kissed it, nodding at him.  

lalalai

lalalai

When our heartbeats collide

I won’t mind,

In a place we’ve never been before

I’m reaching out for the moon and stars beyond it

Dream gasped, a throne room bursting to life around them, the castle shifting, growing around them to accommodate it, stars, just like the ones in his castle bursting to nova-bright life around them, hovering in the air, not just the ceiling.  To the side, two thrones, side by side.  Together.  Collided, never to be apart.  Hope’s power sank deeper into him as he watched, a comforting, soothing touch, tugging him closer, pulling him toward what he had hidden himself from for his existence.  

lalalai

lalalai

Is it you I will find?

Though I feel left behind sometimes

When you close the door

I wanna know who you are

I wanna know it all

The song was winding down at last, the rest of the Dreaming starting to filter back in, but Dream was spellbound by the demand, the need in the lyrics of Hope’s song.  He truly did wish to know it all, hoped to know it all in a way that no other could, or wished to.  Who they would be after this, they would be together.  A hope for the future.  

Hope smiled at him, and Dream let himself fall into it, the song echoing around them, until the last words had him snapping to attention.  

Maybe it’s a dream, I don’t wanna wake

Even if a light goes out, I don’t wanna know reality

Everything in Dream froze at those words, simple, following the rhythm of the song, but the promise in them.  Even if the lights were to go out, Hope didn’t want to know reality, didn’t want to… 

Dream kissed Hope, the careful, hesitant smile that had been on his face, and for the first time since the moments he had created the Dreaming, had poured all of himself into this place that was him, that embodied him in a way no other thing could, he let go.

The collective unconscious was powerful, beyond imagining, all of it swirling around Hope, a response to the magic that Hope had been bleeding into him, and for a moment, Dream feared that it would be too much, too powerful.  There were shouts from his Dreams and Nightmares, but none of them were fear, so Dream leaned in to press himself against Hope, who glowed golden with power, joy, and love, and let his magic respond the same way Hope’s had to the music surrounding them.  

We didn’t waste our time here

It’s now or never

The final notes of Hope’s song died down, and Dream… 

Dream breathed, and carefully gathered the Unconscious back under his control and pressed his forehead against Hope.  Both of them, though neither needed to, were breathing hard and he let out a quiet chuckle.  Sound from the Dreams and Nightmares was filtering back in properly, as well as the sounds from the rest of the Dreaming.  

“When was the last time you did that?” Hope whispered.  “Let yourself go, without fear.”  

Dream’s exhale was harsh and he held onto Hope tighter, refusing to move away from him.  “Never,” he murmured back.  “Never have I done as I have done today, not since the day of my making.”  

Hope smiled and leaned into the touch from Dream.  “I can feel the Dreaming now.  It’s…”  He paused and hummed.  “Different.”  

Dream let out a low chuckle.  “It is.  You did not merely build yourself a castle, my Hope, my Hob.  You tied yourself to the Dreaming, to me in a way that cannot be undone.”  

“Huh.”  Hob blinked himself properly into control and looked around the castle, at the stars and galaxies floating in the air, the Dreams and Nightmares soaring through the windows as they explored, and the music he could hear echoing behind him.  “Guess that means I need to buy you a ring for when you’re in the Waking World then.”  

Dream’s breath caught and he froze.  “You…” 

Hob smiled and rocked back on his heels, staring up at Dream, a Dream roaring happily in a room nearby.  He reached up and tapped the circlet crown on his head.  “I’ve been around long enough to know what Consort means, dove.  Only if you want though.”  

A new future, a better step forward.  A lover who wished to know all, the pain, the agony, the love, the life that he had existed for, his mistakes and triumphs, his violence and gentleness.  Dream wrapped his hands around Hob’s face and pulled him in for a desperate kiss, shadowed galaxies growing around their feet.  

“Yes,” Dream breathed the word against Hob’s lips, watching his eyes flare gold-bright.  “Yes, my Hob.  I want.”  

Hob yanked Dream into another proper kiss, devouring him, even as he heard the sound of roses beginning to rain in the Dreaming once again.  Pressed this close, he could feel the heartbeat of the Dreaming, an echoing beat in his own heart, Dream’s heartbeat if he ever were to have one.  

“Good.”  Hob growled the word against Dream’s lips.  He truly wouldn’t have minded if Dream didn’t, but now, knowing that he did? He wanted to see his claim on the Lord of Dreams.  Pulling back a fraction, he looked to the two thrones side by side, and tugged Dream toward them.  

“Come,” Hope teased, sitting down in the one with musical notes surrounding the ornate silver filigree.  He gestured to the seat beside him, etched with galaxies.  “I want to meet all your creations, your people, my Dream.”  

Dream settled into the throne beside Hope and reached out to take his hand.  “Our people now,” he corrected.  A quiet pulse of power shot through the Dreaming at the correction, his realm bending to the new reality and truth of that statement.  

A flap of wings had both Hope and Dream looking at the raven who stood, perched on the connecting rod between their thrones.  

“You two done with this whole elaborate decorating foreplay thing you’ve got going on?” Matthew asked.  “Not that it wasn’t cool, but still.  Here I thought Lord Morpheus had a sense of decorum.”  

Hope turned back to tease Matthew when a hiccuping gasp came from Dream.  His eyes widened as Dream tried to cover his mouth, his eyes crinkled into almost slits and his shoulders shaking.  “Is that… are you laughing?”   He could not stop the astonished grin even if he had tried.

Hope watched, in awe, as that broke the damn, and Dream of the Endless fell back into the throne that had been built for him by Hope, laughing loudly enough for the sound to echo across the throne room, gloriously mangled thing that it was.  It took Dream far too long to bring himself back under control, and even Matthew had been shocked into silence, but when Dream, his other half in every way, grinned at him, the smallest sheen of gold around him, Hope grinned right back.  

What kind of beautiful future awaited them in a world where the Lord of Dreams was no longer afraid to laugh?  Hope could not wait to see.