He doesn't know what universe he is in. He doesn't want to know. It doesn't matter. He just wants to stay.
The sun feels good on his bones. When was the last time he was under the true sun? With the sounds of leaves dancing in the winds and creaks bubbling out their stories? The bird chirps bringing that extra spice of life as other woodland creatures scurry about. When did he last relax in the grass blades surrounded by flowers? When had he last felt so calm?
He doesn't feel alone here. He doesn't feel anything but other being's hopes and wishes washing over him.
That bird hopes for a mate this year. Those pair of fawns each hope to be the winner of the little game their playing. That mother hopes for her child's survival. The trees hope to one day reach the stars. The very planet herself hopes, though her language is too old to translate past a glowing ball of bright emotions for each of her children.
He could feel himself being lost in the hope of this world. He could feel his chest rise and fall with the pulses Mother Earth sends out. His body feels boundless. And his SOUL… his SOUL is sucking up each positive emotion like a sponge.
This was the heaven humans always talk about. It feels too good for it to not be.
This is all Dream needs…
…
….
… there is someone here…
… they don't bring hope…
… they don't give him happiness…
… they're not here to live…
Dream opens his eyes. He doesn't see the trees that house the birds. He doesn't hear the streams that give life to all. He doesn't feel the playful wind that tugs everyone into games.
He does see the young human. They climb high above his head.
He does hear the chocked cries. They tie rope to the branches.
He does feel their SOUL. They have come to fall down.
He doesn't move, but they do.
He feels the horror coursing through his body as they just swing. There was no hope. There was no happiness. There was now nothing but emptiness making his SOUL ache.
…
…
…
He doesn't know what universe he just left. He doesn't want to know. It doesn't matter. He just wishes that they could have stayed.
He can't breath. He can't see past them. He can't hear anything but the sharp and terrifying crack of a snapping neck, of a shattering SOUL.
He can't believe that he left them there to rot.
He doesn't stay away for long. Dream soon finds himself in that universe once more. Staring at the body left behind, at another failure of his. His eyelights track their movements as they swing back and forth, back and forth in the billowing wind.
He climbs the tree, taking the route that they used, and with a sharp bone, he cuts them down. He flinches as their body lands with a thud on the ground far below. He now stands over them. He doesn't know how to go about anything else, he's never buried a human before, did they have any special way of going about it? He didn't want to look around and find out, so he figured that just burying them will have to be enough.
With some time and effort, Dream now stands on a grave, a makeshift cross (humans used those for their dead, right?) of magical bones that glows golden shows where the head lies. He doesn't move. He doesn't think. He doesn't hope.
He stands there for days, still as a statue. Looking. Listening. Crying.
He couldn't save them. He couldn't save his people. He couldn't save him. He couldn't save anyone. He was no bringer of hope. He was no dream.
A weight lands on his head and shoulders. So out of place that he opens his eyes (when had they closed?) and finally takes a breath (how long had he gone without?).
He was soaked. The rain pours down around him steadily. When had it started to rain? Error stands to his side, staring at the grave, unmindful of the rain and chill in the air. His jacket covers Dream.
They don't speak. They don't move.
Eventually the rain stops. Eventually one of them moves. Error looks at him. Studies him. Slowly turns him away from the grave. Looking in Errors eyes, Dream finally cries.
"I di-didn't sav-ve them." Dream sobs. "I coul-ld hav-ve, but I-I didn-n't."
"Okay."
No judgement. No 'you should have done better'. No pressure. Error didn't care about that.
Dream didn't do good, but to Error, Dream didn't do bad either.
He hugs Errors jacket to his face, hiding under the hood's black fabric as he continues crying. No one moves. No one says anything. Soon, Dream stops crying. He hands Error back his jacket and smiles. He's not okay, not by a long shot, but he's no longer monochrome grey.
He leaves first, and as the portal closes behind him, a surge of destructive force wells up in that universe. Dream doesn't look back.