AN: Another drabble prompt. My word, "Dream." Damon felt the tears run down his own face. The stake slid out of his hand and hit the floor with a loud thud. He was still laying in bed with a now dead, grey, Rose. She died smiling. It was all because of him that she died happy. She died feeling more human than she had in centuries. It seemed like creating the dream was a selfless act, but to be honest, he did it just as much for himself as he did for her.
