Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hello, Father.”

Time looked up from his work, mildly surprised to have been interrupted by his most unruly child. “What do you want, Desire?”

“Oh, many things,” Desire mused, sitting on the edge of Time’s desk.

Despite being the embodiment of their function, desirable to all who looked at them, it was clear to Time in the lack of color they wore, in the artistic drip of eyeliner and glitter under their eyes, that his child was unhappy.

“Why are you here?” The elder being asked.

Desire shrugged. “I have been wasting my time wallowing, so I thought, why stop at mine? Why not waste the time of the one who has it all?”

Time returned to his work. “Why not bother your mother?”

“She knows my tricks, just as I know hers. It wouldn’t be very fun,” Desire mused, kicking one of their feet absentmindedly. “Besides, didn’t you complain about your children not visiting you?”

“Did Dream tell you that?” Time looked up from his papers, a brow raised.

“Danial did,” Desire responded, their tone despondent. “He has Morpheus’ memories but none of his reservations. He is not as fun to tease. It feels like I am picking on an infant. Which, I suppose in a way, he is, and I am.”

Time sighed again. “So this is about Dream.”

“Isn’t it always?” Desire asked, shifting to stare at their father. “Why didn’t you save him?”

“There was nothing I could do.” Time replied.

“Do not lie,” Desire said, leveling a look of knowing that almost unnerved the elder being. “You could’ve done what you did for Delirium when she first changed. What you did for Destruction when the first Despair left us.”

The reminder of the past, of what he’d done for his children only to have his gift thrown back in his face, was a tender nerve. One, Time had the shortest fuse for having stepped on.

“And what would have been accomplished by turning back the clock?” He asked, his voice hard. “Every time I have done it, trying to give any of you a chance to change what happened, it happens anyway! Delight still shattered into Delirium, and Despair still passed on which led to Distruction eventually abandoning his function. If I had given Dream another chance, do you honestly believe he would not have eventually killed Orpheus once more?”

Desire’s jaw ticked, but they said nothing, looking away, and Time sighed, slumping back in his chair.

He could understand Desire’s unhappiness because, much like Despair and Destruction, Dream and Desire were like two halves of a greater whole. They understood each other on a level no other being could really comprehend. Even if they didn’t always get along, even if they used that understanding to torment each other, even if they hurt the other in ways only they could, they could never fully separate.

But just like when Despair moved on and left Destruction with the new Despair who knew and didn’t know all at the same time, Dream had left Desire with a new Dream who understood but also did not understand them.

Honestly, the fact Desire had only locked themself away in their realm and not completely abandoned their function was an improvement from how Destruction had taken Despair moving on.

Which was quite ironic since Desire and Dream were often considered to be the most dramatic of the Endless.

‘Or were,'  Time mentally amended. Even he had to admit this new Dream was… soft when compared to his predecessor.

Desire had not been far off when they described the new Dream as a baby. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, per say, but for someone like Desire it was likely something akin to torture.

‘Damn it all,’ Time sighed to himself, rubbing his temple at the incoming headache as he mentally kicked himself.

He had really talked himself into doing the one thing he’d sworn to himself not to do again. Sometimes, he wished he was as cold and cruel as his children thought he was.

‘Well, most of them,’ Time looked at Desire who was fiddling with the metronome he had sitting on the corner of his desk. “How did you know about Delirium and Destruction? You shouldn’t have remembered.”

“I didn’t,” Desire replied, not looking at him. “Delirium talks when she thinks people aren’t listening, and also when she thinks they are. It often sounds like the ramblings of a person without sanity, but if one listens for long enough it begins to almost make sense.”

“And you thought to trust the ramblings of someone who cannot even remember what century she’s in?” Time’s tone bordered on condescending. “I thought you knew better, Desire.”

“And yet she was not wrong,” Desire mused, glancing at their father from the corner of their eye. “You proved that the second you opened your mouth.”

“You’re as manipulative as your mother.” Time pointed out.

Desire shrugged, dropping their gaze back to the metronome as it ticked back and forth. “I learned it at her knee, after all.”

And perhaps it was because Desire reminded Time so much of his wife that he loved and hated in equal measure, or because he was trying to make up for being the kind of terrible father that told his children he did not love them to protect himself, or maybe it was Desire’s influence, but the elder being eventually caved.

He didn’t say anything to indicate it, but the ticks of the metronome seemed to grow louder, echoing in the cavernous room that was Time’s study, the sound soon reverberating with the very fabric of reality. It unraveled the tapestry woven by the Fates, rewound their spindles, rethreaded their needles. Time knew when the Kindly Ones noticed, angered by his meddling, but he kept going, letting the clock rewind. And soon their fury melted away to confusion, eventually settling as they forgot his intervention.

And then it all stopped.

Desire blinked, looking down at the metronome and the hand of their father that had stopped it, before looking to him, an eyebrow raised.

“Go home,” Time said. “You’ve disturbed me long enough.”

Knowing when to push and, more importantly, when not to, Desire slipped off Time’s desk, dipped into a mocking bow, and gave their prettiest smile, though it never reached their golden eyes. “Until next time, Father.”

Time didn’t respond, but he could tell by the uptick of their smile that his child knew he was not displeased by the prospect of another visit, and he only let another sigh slip out once Desire had completely left.

Perhaps he’d been wrong in assuming Destiny knew him best and respected him the most. Sure, Desire had come with the intent to get something from him, to annoy him, but his shameless child had also stuck around and brought color to his otherwise unbothered existence.

‘It was nice, though only in small doses.' Time decided. ‘Desire’s penchant for mischief and debauchery was only amusing in its infrequency.’

And perhaps Time would visit some of his other children.

When Desire had returned to their realm after visiting their father, they had done so with the intention of lounging about in a most dramatic and brooding fashion. They had even changed into a long flowing robe of red velvet with black fur along the cuffs and collar, when they noticed something off.

Their realm, which had previously been closed off to unwanted visitors after the passing of their most hated brother, was completely open once more in the way they’d kept it for centuries.

“Strange.” Desire muttered to themself.

The golden-eyed being was about to reclose their realm when they caught sight of themself in a mirror. Their realm had many, Desire was rather a creature of vanity after all, but this one they had not seen since shattering it after an encounter with the Dream of before. And it was not just the mirror that was different. It was Desire’s form that had changed.

Gone was their longer white hair and lightened brows, and in their place was shorter, perfectly coiffed blond hair and dark brows. Their face more angular and reminiscent of a time the standard everyone had for their desires was sculpted and thin.

“How strange.” Desire critically assessed their form, wondering what had brought out such change, trying to figure out the mystery behind such a shift. In stroking down their form, they felt something distend the form of their robe, and from their pocket they withdrew a note.

Do not say I do not do anything for you.
- Father

“Well, that was cryptic,” Desire muttered, staring down at the words. “What is that even supposed to mean-”

Then they felt it: a familiar taste of desire that echoed out from a certain helm.

Breathe hitched, Desire rushed to their gallery and stared with wide, confused eyes at Dream’s sigil, wondering if perhaps they were imagining things. But no, it couldn’t be Daniel. His desires were not so… twisted and stamped down like Morpheus’. Hesitantly, they let their voice ring out.

“Dream, I stand in my gallery and I stand before your sigil. It is I, Desire.”

But no response came.

‘Perhaps more was needed.' Desire thought, taking Dream’s helm into their hands.

“Brother, I am holding your sigil. Will you not talk to me?”

But once again, nothing.

It was almost as if their message could not be received…

Well, if Dream wasn’t going to respond, Desire would just have to visit their most beloved and detested big brother themself.

Without changing their clothes, Desire twisted on their heel and soon found themself walking through the gates of the Dreaming. They ignored the visitors and residents, more focused on finding Dream, and frowned when they could not sense him.

“Your grace,” Lucienne spoke, looking mildly winded as she rushed up to Desire. “What brings you to the Dreaming?”

“I am looking for my brother,” Desire replied, looking around the Dreaming as if Dream would appear. “Where has he gone off to?”

“Lord Morpheus,” Lucienne’s expression twisted, looking awkward. “Is not here.”

“I can see that,” Desire stated, leveling their intense gaze upon the form of Dream’s librarian. “Where is he?”

“I…” Lucienne did not seem like she wanted to answer, but eventually relented. “He went out.”

Those words rung warning bells in Desire’s head. “For what purpose?”

“To capture a rogue nightmare.” Lucienne finally admitted, though she was deeply uncomfortable.

More warning bells. “And how long has my brother been gone?”

Lucienne bit her lip.

Desire’s stare became even more intense. “How long?”

“Ten years.”

Ten. Years.

Desire felt their breath catch. ‘Dream must have been captured then.’ With that new realization the taste of desire they sensed from Dream now made sense. The desire to be free. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

Turning on their heels, Desire headed for the gates. They did not want to waste another moment away from their brother.

“Wait,” Lucienne called, rushing after Desire. “Where are you going? Do you know where Lord Morpheus is?”

Desire ignored her questions. “Just do what you’ve been doing, but don’t let anything out. Shut the gates if you must.”

“But-”

“Do not make more work for your lord to deal with once he returns,” Desire said sharply.

Lucienne grimaced but nodded. “Very well.”

“Good,” Desire praised, smirking sharply. “I shall return with my brother momentarily.”

And with that, the embodiment of desire disappeared from the Dreaming, leaving a librarian in charge.

When Desire appeared next, it was just outside the Borgess Manor in Sussex.

Night had fallen, making the surrounding area dark, but Desire cared little for their mother and even less for the ways she affected the world, and as such moved inside to escape the light of the moon.

The first thing they noticed was the smell of something burning and shouts coming from inside the house.

‘How disorderly,’ Desire thought to themself as they looked around, walking the halls in the direction they could feel their brother’s desire echoing out from. ‘One would think that someone who managed to capture an Endless would have a bit more style.’

The manor was dull, full of occult objects that only occasionally sparked the Endless’ attention by the power sometimes held within, and Desire was rather bored with it. If not for the fact that Dream was being kept inside, the immortal being would have never stepped foot on the property and been all the merrier for it.

For those unfortunate to meet Desire on their path to their older brother, they soon found themselves caught up in acts of passion. For some it was sexual, but for others it was greedy, and occasionally violent. Just a few guards more, and Desire soon found themself descending the stairs into the basement.

It was the flapping of wings that Desire heard first. Then pecking.

Stepping into the room, Desire’s gaze was drawn to a glass prison suspended by chains and the pale form of their brother inside – the brother they had missed so very dearly, who looked so painfully thin, and was noticeably lacking in proper attire – before following Dream’s hopeful gaze to the little black bird fluttering around trying to free her master.

Though hazy due to their previous disinterest, Desire recalled Dream’s previous raven, the one with the white body and black extremities, that their brother had been so fond of. They remembered the brief moment of confusion they’d felt when seeing a full black bird with Dream after their brother was freed, but seeing the scene now, Desire could guess as to why the change had happened.

Watching the bird and her master interact, Desire felt that horrible yearning – that terrible hollowness that had consumed them after their brother had gone only to return as something entirely different – begin to recede, to warm. It was almost strange, having almost grown used to the feeling of utter emptiness, to feel whole again.

Sensing they now had company, Desire swiftly stepped from the shadows and caught the black bird, yanking their brother’s faithful companion to their chest a mere moment before a shot rang out, the sound like a clap of thunder in the small space, and a bullet lodged itself in the glass of Dream’s prison sending spider-like fractures to spread out along the glass from the impact.

“Careful, you idiot!” Roderick Burgess snapped at Alex Burgess . “Or you’ll release that thing!”

Glancing over their shoulder, Desire regarded the fatherson duo and watched as, with a little nudge of their influence, Roderick wailed on his child, beating the poor boy black and blue, all thoughts of anything else slipping away. Turning back, Desire found Dream staring up at them from his glass prison, with eyes full of cautious hope.

“That is the human that caught you?” Desire asked, unable to help but taunt as they continued to pet the little black bird cradled in their arms, pleased that their brother’s companion had yet to peck them. “How pathetic. I had been expecting someone… greater.”

The unimpressed look they got from Dream – their Dream – made their heart stutter. Oh, how they had missed this, missed him.

Glancing down at the binding circle on the floor, it only took a swipe of their shoe to break it, then Desire’s gaze was back on their brother. “I trust you can break yourself out the rest of the way.”

Taking a few steps back so as to not be caught in any kind of magical backlash or be cut by stray bits of glass, Desire watched as Dream eventually managed to break himself free of his prison. They were still observing their older brother while petting the pretty black bird even as, with a twist of their hand, Dream was dressed once more, so they did not miss when Dream shivered at the feeling of clothes upon his form.

When Dream looked at his sibling, his eyes held a thousand unspoken things, and he opened his mouth a few times, hesitant to say anything, before finally settling on a simple, “Thank you.”

Desire’s lips pulled into a large smile, their golden eyes sparkling as they stepped closer, plopping the little black bird on Dream’s shoulder like a prop before smoothing down the lapels of their brother’s coat, polishing his appearance.

“It was my pleasure, Dear Brother.” They purred, feeling warm and whole when they felt Dream twitch under their hands.

A little furrow appeared between Dream’s brows as he stared at Desire, his beautiful blue eyes brimming with questions, but his sibling merely smiled and flicked some imaginary dust off his unoccupied shoulder.

“Do you want me to keep your little messenger company while you teach these fools why keeping you prisoner was unwise?”

Desire felt pleasure burn in their chest when they noticed Dream’s confusion, having apparently become lost in their presence, before remembering where he was and his gaze turned dark.

“That… would probably be wise.” Dream murmured, his voice gravely from disuse, though Desire still likened it to thunder rumbling through the clouds; comforting yet dangerous.

With one look from her master, Jessamy gave one bump of her head to the side of his before fluttering over to Desire’s shoulder, though it was not long before she found herself cradled in the younger Endless’ arms, being pet once more.

“You will spoil her.” Dream said, sounding as if he was trying to protest but was too fond to really achieve it.

“Best wrap up your business quickly, then,” Desire shrugged, turning to make their way out of the basement. “Lest I corrupt her entirely with my affections.”

As they made their way back through the manor, Desire took the time to pocket the objects that had previously called to them. Some were truly dark and should never have fallen into the hands of mortals, others were merely pretty. They had even managed to find their brother’s beloved things, and were just pocketing them when the screams started.

“Your master certainly likes his revenge,” Desire tutted to Jessamy. “If he took even half as much pleasure in my company, perhaps I wouldn’t resort to such drastic measures to gain his attention.”

Jessamy didn’t say anything, being a rather quiet bird compared to her successor, but she did cock her head in thought.

Eventually, Desire grew bored of listening to the cacophony of screams, and having run out of interesting things to look at, they took their leave and went to stand by the lake not far from the manor to wait for their brother to finish.

To others it might have been cold, but for an Endless and a resident of the Dreaming, neither Desire nor Jessamy felt the chill. Instead, they found the way the moonlight danced upon the surface of the water to be much more interesting.

Desire continued to speak to Jessamy about anything that came to mind – the dislike they held for their mother, fashion trends they found interesting or hideous, how they were convinced Delirium had stolen a pair of their socks – getting little clacks or ruffled feathers as a response from the quiet bird, and overall felt it was quite a nice chat.

They didn’t let up even when they felt their brother’s presence close in on them.

“You’d think that someone with such decadent style would appreciate my efforts, but no!” Desire rolled their eyes, waving their hand about. “She tried to banish me to the depths of Hell all because I told her that wearing two shades of red without enough contrast was just asking for ridicule-"

“Are you done boring my raven with your tales, sibling?” Dream asked, finally coming to stand beside them at the water’s edge.

With Dream returned, Jessamy was quick to hop back onto his shoulder, ignoring the pout Desire directed her way in favor of cuddling up to her master.

Dream, though overstimulated by the feel of so many textures and sensations after feeling nothing for ten years, cupped a hand against his raven to keep her close. He had missed her greatly.

Beside the pair, Desire watched, feeling their heart squeeze painfully at the sight of peace that had settled on Dream’s face. It had been such a long time since their older brother had worn such an expression in their presence, and it hurt more than they thought it would.

Fingers twitching at their side, Desire eventually, hesitantly, reached their hand out, wanting to be close, to feel that Dream – their Dream – really was there, was alive. But then Dream flinched at their touch and Desire immediately recoiled, the beat of their heart echoing in their ears.

‘Of course Dream would not wish to be touched,’ Desire scolded themself. ‘He was imprisoned for ten years. Which, while better than the previous one-hundred-and-four, was still miserable. Wasn’t he already showing signs of being overstimulated? Adding to that was such a stupid idea-’

A cold hand slipping into their own, threading their fingers together, drew Desire’s attention, and the younger immortal looked at their older brother.

“Dream-”

“This is what you wanted, is it not?” Dream cut Desire off, tightening his grip on the younger Endless when they tried to pull away.

“But you,” Desire protested. “Is it not too much? You were imprisoned in that glass prison for ten years. That can’t… it could not have been comfortable.”

“It is fine, sibling.” Dream shrugged. 

“That is not what I asked.” Desire pointed out.

Dream’s jaw ticked. “I said it is fine.”

“Dream…” Desire’s voice died at the look their brother sent them.

He looked exhausted, like he’d fall apart at the slightest pressure, and annoyed, but he always tended to look annoyed when around Desire since their falling out all those eons ago (not that Desire couldn’t even remember the ‘why’, having long forgotten the reason for their falling out, just that it had been that long).

“I am tired, my sibling.”

Those words, that tone, it was all too similar to that horrible final day in the Dreaming – the day that Desire tried to forget, pretended like they hadn’t been there, hadn’t watched as their most detested sibling (their other half) passed on – and they broke.

They only realized they were crying – great, ugly tears spilling from their eyes, mixing with eyeliner and glitter, running down their face – when Dream’s own eyes widened with shock, his lips parted as if to ask ‘why the tears, my sibling?’, and Desire would not take it, could not stand it.

They turned their face away and tried to rip their hand from Dream’s gasp, but their brother would not let go, and eventually Desire sank to the ground at his feet, trying to muffle the sounds of their sobs in their hand.

“Desire,” Dream spoke softly, crouching down to be even with his sibling. “Why do you cry?”

That only seemed to make Desire cry even harder, and that worried Dream.

The pair might have been at odds for a long time, but Dream had never seen Desire so miserable, and he did not know what caused it or how to help. This was the being who knew him inside and out, who understood him so completely it sometimes hurt, who he sometimes resented for being able to express themselves in ways he could only wish to. This was Desire. And yet, now that very same being, who seemed greater than anything, was weeping at his feet.

“Sibling-”

“Because you do not!” Desire shouted, turning those beautifully sad eyes upon their older brother. “Because despite all that happens to you – the betrayals, the heartbreaks, being literally fucking imprisoned – you still do not cry!”

Dream was at a loss for words, but Desire was not done.

“I know you,” They said, curing in on themself. “I know that you are not always content with just your function. That sometimes you desire to simply cease, and you know what? I have tried. I am a slave to my function as you so often like to remind me, and when you desire so greatly I cannot help but try and fulfill it.”

“Oh, sibling.” Dream’s eyes softened.

“And then you hate me! And-and push me away, and call me all kinds of bitter things when all I am doing is trying to do as you want, and I hate it! I hate it!” Desire wailed, left gasping as they tried to breath through their sobs.

Unable to help himself, Dream pulled his sibling into his arms, ignoring Desire’s attempts to set themself free by squirming and hitting, until eventually his younger sibling collapsed against him, fingers clinging to his coat and head burrowed into the crook of his neck. Only when he was sure Desire would not pull away did Dream loosen his hold, cradling the golden-eyed being in his arms, petting their hair, soothing them.

And though neither would ever admit it outloud, they both missed being held in the other’s arms. That feeling of wholeness, of coming home, made their painful past feel like just a distant memory.

And when they eventually pulled away, when Dream wiped the evidence of Desire’s breakdown from their face with a handkerchief, when Desire returned Dream’s items to him, when they parted, it was peaceful.

Not all was forgiven, not all their wounds healed, but there was now an understanding that things would be better, and for them that was good enough.

Now with that crisis averted, Desire now just had to make sure their brother never killed his son. Change was surely inevitable, but with Desire now set in keeping their brother chained to them for the rest of existence (or until they both moved on together) they’d just have to figure out how to give their nephew what he so desperately wanted without getting any of them caught in the crossfire.

Desire sighed. ‘So much to contemplate, so little time.’

At least they were back in the good graces of their dearly detested brother.

Chapter Text

When Dream first realized he’d been trapped, he was angry that these mere mortals dared to trap one of the Endless, dared to trap anybody, and succeeded in doing so. He was pissed, but thankful it was not his sister, Death, who had been the intended target. He was furious, but heartbroken by the betrayal of his masterpiece of a nightmare, the Corinthian.

He chose to stay silent, not only as an act of rebellion against his captors, but because what Roderick Burgess asked for was not something he could give. Chose to endure the humiliation of being held by mortals, stripped to nothing, just an ornament in this glass prison.

So for ten years, he endured. Which, especially in the eyes of the Endless, was not a long time, but when one was forced into solitude, it had a way of wearing down the soul.

 With so much time and nothing else to do but sit and think, Dream could not help but feel the oppressive sense of hopelessness that came with every day that passed, and he was not free.

He worried about the Dreaming and its inhabitants, contemplated where he might have gone wrong for the Corinthian to have betrayed him in such a way, and forced himself to swallow the bitter pill that none of his siblings would intercede on his behalf.

He tried to spend his time more productively, watching what happened around him, looking for a way to turn this to his advantage, to escape, but nothing. His glass prison kept him contained, the binding circle outside it kept him from his power, and without his tools, he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been.

So what was left but for him to sit and wait?

“ Dream, I stand in my gallery before your sigil. It is I, Desire. ”

Dream lifted his head at the familiar call of his sibling, and saw the swirling gold as Desire’s apparition called from outside the glass. But after ten years of imprisonment, of isolation and humiliation, hearing one of his siblings reaching out to him… Dream wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not.

“ Brother, I am holding your sigil. Will you not talk to me? ”

Dream’s eyes widened when he realized, no, he hadn’t been imagining it, Desire really was trying to call for him. His siblings hadn’t forgotten him, or, at the very least, Desire hadn’t. They were even calling out to him, trying to speak with him! Sure, his sibling likely wanted something from him, but if Dream could convince them to free him, he’d do anything.

However, when he tried to open his mouth, to reply, to call back, to show he was listening, he found he could not speak. And when he searched around for a reason, panicked and wanting desperately to reply, Dream soon realized that perhaps his silence had not been completely willing.

In his prison, the glass had no holes to allow someone to breathe. Not that he’d noticed because he did not need it to continue living, but to speak, to form words and have them heard, was impossible without air.

No breathless gasps for air, no silent pleas, no banging on the glass would gain his sibling’s attention. Thus, he was forced to watch helplessly as Desire’s apparition eventually faded, leaving him to wallow in isolation once more. Bereft of the hope he’d held but for just a moment, and finding the silence that followed to somehow be worse than that of the last decade he’d had to endure.

But then the shouting started, and hope arrived once more in the form of white feathers and black eyes.

Seeing his beloved Jessamy had Dream felt like a breath of fresh air that compelled him to move from his curled position.

It was something he needed, something that pulled him from the depths of despair’s realm, something that allowed him to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d be free. And though a small part of him worried, the larger part of him watched in wonder as his precious companion flew around, pecking at the glass, trying to set him free.

Then pale hands with sharp black nails reached out and caught Jessamy, yanking her away just as a great boom echoed out, startling Dream, and he was forced to scramble for balance as his prison was rocked back and forth.

“Careful, you idiot!” Roderick snapped. “Or you’ll release that thing !”

But Dream barely noticed as the human began beating his child, his attention completely taken up by the sight of his sibling, of Desire, petting Jessamy after having saved her from becoming a smear on the now cracked glass of his prison.

Desire, who had never looked more untouchable than they did in the red velvet and black furs that draped their frame. Who stared at him with eyes like molten gold. Who was… different in a way Dream couldn’t quite put his finger on. But it was his sibling, the one he often bickered with, nonetheless.

“That is the human that caught you?” Desire asked, raising a taunting brow. “How pathetic. I had been expecting someone… greater.”

Dream could only hope his expression conveyed the lack of humor he found in the situation he’d landed himself in.

He watched as Desire looked down, followed their gaze to the binding circle, and held his breath as they dragged a delicate foot through the chalk, breaking the spell. The sudden influx of power, of connections and bonds snapping back into place, made the Dream King shudder. Simultaneously becoming tense and relaxed at the feel of it all.

“I trust you can break yourself out the rest of the way.”

Opening his eyes, Dream watched Desire step out of the range of any possible backlash, before closing his eyes once more. Forcing all thoughts of golden eyes from his mind, Dream pooled his returning power to his hands and focused it on the glass, feeling the grains of sand it used to be, and forced the material to revert to its original form.

The first true breath of air he took after being freed felt like the closest thing to a religious experience a being like Dream could get. Climbing out of that cage was like being freed from shackles he had no idea were clamped upon his form.

And when he suddenly found himself clothed after a decade of forced nudity, the feel of Egyptian cotton against his skin and the satisfying weight of his long coat on his back, Dream shivered. It was so strange, overwhelming, but good.

Looking back to Desire, to his sibling watching him with a molten gaze that Dream would’ve labeled ‘heartbreakingly fond’ had it been on literally anyone else, he hesitated. What did one say to a sibling with whom he had been on bad terms with for the better part of two and a half eons and had just rescued him from imprisonment? Nothing felt like it was good enough, so Dream settled for the bare minimum (he’d come up with something better later).

“Thank you.”

The smile that split Desire’s face brought a warmth to his chest that Dream had not felt in a long time. And because he knew Desire, he did not flinch when his sibling invaded his personal space to place Jessamy upon his shoulder and fuss over his clothes, he only twitched under the touch because he was unused to it.

“It was my pleasure, Dear Brother.” Desire practically purred into his ear.

Hearing them speak reminded Dream that this was Desire who was before him. Not Death. Not Delirium. Desire. His sibling, who seemed to carry a bone-deep hatred for him. The same one that swore to make him spill family blood. The one who now stood before him didn’t feel like the Desire he knew.

‘Did something happen to them?’ Dream thought, and a feeling of concern, of protectiveness over a possible threat to his family, reared its ugly head. ‘But no, Desire seemed fine. Just… Their eyes… They were so…. Heartbroken.’

What had happened to his sibling while he had been imprisoned?

“Do you want me to keep your little messenger company while you teach these fools why keeping you prisoner was unwise?”

The words Desire spoke confused Dream for a moment before he remembered that they were still in the basement of Roderick Burgess, and with that came fury as his previously helpless rage at being caged flooded him once more, reminding him of just who his enemies were.

“That… would probably be wise.” Dream murmured, mentally cringing at the gravely quality his voice had taken after a decade of disuse.

He pushed that thought to the side as well, directing his attention to Jessamy instead, and while he wanted nothing more than to keep her close, he could not bear the thought of her possibly getting hurt as she nearly did when freeing him.

With just a look, his beautifully smart bird seemed to understand his thoughts, nudged her head against his own affectionately, and eventually migrated back to Desire’s shoulder, though it was not long before his younger sibling had his companion in their arms to pet her once more.

“You will spoil her.” He said in a half-hearted protest.

“Best wrap up your business quickly, then,” Desire shrugged and turned to make their way out of the basement. “Lest I corrupt her entirely with my affections.”

Dream followed his sibling’s retreating form until they were truly gone from sight, and even then continued to look at the door, feeling like perhaps the rescue had been a fever dream and any moment he’d wake up. But time continued to pass, and Dream was still standing there outside his glass prison, clothed and free.

His gaze eventually fell to his jailer, and with it his unholy rage.

Standing on his balcony that had a truly breathtaking view of the Dreaming, Dream’s thoughts drifted back to the events following his release as he stared at his ruby. The one Desire had hooked over his head and fussed with until it lay perfectly against his sternum, then patted while giving him a smile full of relief, even as tears continued to drop from their eyes.

‘Something definitely happened,’ He thought to himself. ‘Desire was never so… vulnerable.’

Or maybe Desire was, and Dream just didn’t know because he’d been at odds with them for so long. Maybe Desire cried when they felt vulnerable and overwhelmed. Maybe they had finally reached their breaking point with him, and it had all come pouring out in tears and broken sobs.

Dream sighed, rubbing his thumb along the golden frame the ruby was set in.

A gold he’d picked despite preferring cooler tones because it reminded him of the one being in existence who knew him better than anyone. A gem of red he’d chosen because it was Desire’s favorite color. A piece of jewelry he’d crafted, stored power in, to try and lessen his own power so his other half might feel that they were on a similar playing field.

But the ruby was a liability now.

Dream couldn’t keep a part of him locked away, make himself smaller for the comfort of others, when it could affect his realm. For his function, his duty, he had let it go. So, with great reluctance, Dream undid the clasp, held the ruby between his hands, and before he could talk himself out of it, shattered the opulent piece.

Immediately, he was flooded with an overwhelming rush of power that he could feel rush out, healing the small cracks and disrepair that had begun to form around his realm in his absence. Apparently, he’d stored more of himself in there than he’d remembered. Oops.

When he parted his hands, all that remained of his ruby was sand, and he sighed. ‘What a pity. It had been nice to look at.’

Around him, he could feel the citizens of his realm celebrate his return, the dreamers rejoicing even if they didn’t really know why, and Dream forced himself to step back inside. He had a job to do, nightmares to corral, dreams to create, and a realm to maintain.

If he hoped that a certain sibling of his would visit, that was no one’s business but his own.

“What is this?” Dream asked.

He had been in the middle of… well, nothing really, but he’d at least been pretending to look busy when Desire had requested to come through, and Dream let them. Which had led to now, where he was staring at a box Desire had set on his table. A black velvet box.

“A present.” Desire replied.

Sending a look at his sibling, all he got was an expectant bat of Desire’s ridiculously long (beautiful) lashes, and he sighed. Opening the box, he wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to find, but a set of jewelry was not it.

There were rings, cuff-links, a tie pin, a brooch, and a necklace. All silver. All embellished with benitoite and celestite crystals.

“Why the sudden gift, sibling?” Dream asked, picking up one of the cuff-links.

“I heard about what happened to your ruby and figured you could do with a replacement,” Desire mused as they plucked up the brooch and held it next to Dream’s face. “As I thought. It matches your eyes.”

Dream blinked. “What?”

“The celestite goes well with your eyes in the light, and the benitoite pairs with your eyes in the dark, so I picked both to match you,” Desire explained. “The ruby was pretty, but let’s face it. It’s much more my color than yours.”

That was kind of the point, but Dream wasn’t about to admit that out loud, and instead set the cuff-link back in the box. “You do know I do not typically wear jewelry, correct?”

 “Perhaps you should.” Desire rebutted, messing with the collar of Dream’s coat to pin the broach to his lapels before conjuring a mirror and holding it up for their brother to see their handiwork for himself. “See? Doesn’t that look nice?”

It did, in fact, look nice. Dream wouldn’t consider himself to be a particularly vain person, but he did quite like the contrast the crystals had with the black of his coat and how it brought out the color of his eyes.

“You like it,” Desire teased, sounding all too pleased with themself. “I can tell.”

“Go back to your realm, sibling,” Dream said in reply, returning to his paperwork. “You’ve wasted my time long enough.”

Desire cackled, but did as requested and left, tossing a “See you soon, Big Brother!” over their elegant shoulder.

Dream shook his head in mild exasperation and went back to work.

And that brooch stayed on his coat, never moving until a day Dream had to visit the waking world for business. At which point, he very reluctantly placed it back in the velvet box for safekeeping and swiftly left lest he change his mind and bring it with him.

Later, he would visit the Threshold just to have Desire re-pin it to his lapel – enduring the teasing of his sibling because he had realized it felt wrong to try and do it himself – thus marking the beginning of a new tradition between Dream and Desire.

Oh, if only their siblings could see them now. The things they’d say.

Author's Note:
Here's what the crystals that are on Dream's new jewelry look like.
On the left is Benitoite, and on the right is Celestite.