The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters - Chapter 3: Nightmare
Content warning: The nightmarish imagery is up tenfold here, including references to animal abuse and self harm, so please be cautioned. I've tried my best to keep it T rated here, but be forewarned that it is still intense.
–
Jung ventured upstairs to where Hoothoot apparently stayed. As Jeanne stated, he resided in a room of his own where the Fire Boss' Quarters used to be. Lucky him. Jung almost knocked on the door when he remembered this dwelling wasn't too concerned about privacy. Since Hoothoot could've been asleep, Jung carefully turned the knob and the door creaked open.
Hoothoot's room was relatively more lavish compared to the common rooms, though the quarters still showed their age with the chipped plaster walls and the tiny spots of mould in the corner of the ceiling. In the middle of all of this, Hoothoot slept with his legs crossed, surrounded by an abundance of blankets and pillows, some of which looked too fancy for an old mining facility. Jung wondered if it was stolen.
The squeaky door didn't wake the elderly Hypno up. Nor did Jung's footsteps upon the aged floorboards. Although Jung got up to arm's reach, he considered turning back since he never liked rudely snatching someone from their slumber. But Jeanne told him that it would've been alright, so he needed to tear the bandaid off.
Jung patted Hoothoot's head. His fur was all coarse and wiry. He wouldn't budge, so Jung did the only thing he could think of at that moment: tug on his ears.
"Huh?" Hoothoot whispered and yawned all at once. "Who's there?"
"I'm new to this dwelling," Jung said, kneeling down. "I believe you're Hoothoot."
"You woke me up just to tell me that?" Even as he talked, he kept his eyes closed. "And just as I was about to have a good dream."
"Sorry for intruding. Jeanne said it was okay."
"Oh, her." Hoothoot scratched his yellow and grey beard. "Well, I like her, so I'll let it slide. For now."
Jung inwardly sighed in relief.
"So, Hoothoot. My name's Jung–"
"Did I ask?"
"Not really. I'm just saying, for formality sake." He wanted to ease himself into the conversation, but he didn't know if he wanted to spend more time than necessary with Hoothoot. "I'll be direct with you, I might need you to read or eat my nightmares."
Hoothoot stopped scratching.
"How interesting!" Hoothoot grinned, showing his toothless gums. "Come on now, go to sleep so I can chow down."
"Just like that? You know I can't just do it on the spot."
"It's okay!" He pulled out a huge pendulum from beneath the covers, which looked like it was broken off of a grandfather clock. "I'll do it myself!"
"Wait, hold on a minute!" Jung almost tripped over the hem of his longcoat. "Please don't do it right away!"
"You wanted to be direct, didn't you?"
"Yes, but not like this." He sighed. "I'd really like to avoid hypnosis if I can, both getting hypnotised and hypnotising someone."
"Ah, right." Hoothoot crossed his arms and grumbled. "I sometimes forget we can't just do that anymore."
This was going to be a long day. "Wouldn't you like to know what's been going on first?"
"Not really. Lots of Hypno come up to me and I just eat some of their nightmares on the spot. Last one I ate tasted like blue cheese." He smacked his lips. "Delish."
Jung didn't want to know what Hoothoot considered disgusting.
"I'm surprised you can do such a thing. I always throw up after eating one."
"Then you need to build up your tolerance, I'm surprised you're still alive with such a weak stomach."
"That's not the problem, I want to stop these bloody nightmares from happening in the first place!"
This wasn't like Jung. Well, maybe it was. He didn't know how to deal with an old Hypno, let alone old people in general. In any case, that got Hoothoot's attention as he defensively waved.
"Hey, there, I'm just playing around. What's troubling you?"
Jung sighed. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He repeated what he told Jeanne and also explained his job situation. As he spoke, Hoothoot stroked his beard like a kung fu master from an old action flick.
"Well, stress can cause nightmares, indeed." Hoothoot said. "When I was your age, I was still in the wild, and believe me, the stuff you'd see there gave me plenty of nightmares. Imagine being chased by an Ariados the size of one of them tall buildings!"
"Skyscrapers."
"Yeah, those. Then getting caught, trapped in its web, then forced to have its babies." If Jung had tea, he would've spat it out by now. "Well, I adopted them in that dream, I didn't lay them myself."
Marginally better.
"I don't even remember what dreams I had." Jung shuddered. "I just remember waking up, feeling like I was about to die, like my heart would stop, it was beating so much. Sometimes, I thrashed in the bed before I realised I had woken up."
"Night terrors," Hoothoot hissed. "You have it worse, then."
"Yes, and I'd like nothing more than to stop this mess."
Hoothoot paused, continually stroking that beard. Jung scratched his chin reflexively, wondering if he was capable of growing stubble that long, or what equated to stubble for Pokemon with fur.
"I've had young'uns, much younger than you, that have had these night terrors. It's the most common in Drowzee. Although they have parents they can confide in, they often come to me and tell me about their nightmares. A lot of things can cause it. Stress, as I said. Seeing someone else's nightmare. And other Hypno pass on as well, which they sometimes see in their dreams, and it can kick up quite the fuss. We grow up to, what, how many years? You're a doctor, aren't you?"
"38 years." Jung shivered. Saying it out loud really put into perspective how little time Jung had to make his mark on the world, especially compared to humans.
"And that's assuming you don't get caught by any predators, battle yourself to death, or die of some other cause. Here, though, we don't have to worry about that. We basically farm each other and bother nobody else."
"But then…"
"So, Hypno eventually pass on. And when they do, they linger, like an afterimage. We see them in our dreams. We might even talk to them for a little bit, sometimes consciously, sometimes not. They either die a second death when that memory fades, or they morph into something unrecognisable from when they were once flesh."
Jung focused on the spots of white mould in the corner. Did he know anyone like that? Yes. But he didn't want to think about that for now.
"What are you getting at, Hoothoot?"
"Oh, nothing." He grumbled. "I know I don't have much life left, so I'm just reflecting, I suppose." Jung wanted to offer words of comfort to him, but his mind drew a blank. "Anyway. When you're ready, go to sleep and I'll be there to chow down on your tasty nightmares."
Jung grimaced and laid down, getting into a comfortable position in that fortress of blankets. As expected, it felt like lying on a cloud.
"I still don't know how you can stand eating them. They stink to high heaven."
"Well, yeah, they do, but compare them to human delicacies. Did you know some humans have this dish where they incubate the eggs of certain Pokemon, particularly Ducklett, just long enough for it to develop but not long enough for it to become a hatchling?"
"Well, I wish I didn't know now. But it's not implausible." He traced his hand over his face. Even outside of work, he couldn't stop thinking about that Eevee.
"Alright, then compare it to that. Or Durin berries. If you think of it as an acquired taste, then that makes it digest a little better.
Jung put that thought aside for now. He didn't want to have even worse nightmares than before, imagining what other barbaric delicacies humans cooked up.
"If you want, you can hypnotise me into sleep."
"Sure thing." Hoothoot retrieved his giant pendulum. "Be warned, you will experience parts of those nightmares before I reach them. Not all of it, but you won't like it one bit."
"I understand."
"Alright, so you'll drop in an instant once I use my powers. Nod and I'll do the deed."
Jung took a deep breath. He must've been very powerful to have those capabilities. Hopefully, he used them for good in his lifetime. With nothing left to lose, Jung nodded, and Hoothoot's eyes flashed pink.
Jung peeled his own face off like a sticker. He still saw with his bare eyes wide open, but the outer shell fell apart like the rind off of an orange. He offered it to the first Pokemon in line: a Yamask. It wore Jung's face over its clay imitation of a countenance.
"Please, don't." Jung's mouth flapped over the clay's etched line. "You don't need to do this – you've already given so much."
Jung waved them away for the other Pokemon in line to come out. The next in line was a Machop. He peeled off a bit of muscle of his own arm and offered it to them. They ate the pieces of his bicep and smiled with a chocolate-covered mouth. He didn't bleed. His body was all a confection. It didn't even hurt to take pieces of his body away. His eyes were gobstoppers. His teeth were pieces of candy corn. His bones… were just bones, made of marrow, but everything else that connected to them was made of sweets.
A Sylveon with no ribbons. Jung gave them his arms. Although he couldn't use his hands, he still offered himself to the other Pokemon in line. And when he had no more parts, he offered his bones as well. A Banette. A Froakie. A Pikachu. A Komala. A Pangoro. By the time he was finished with all his patients, he didn't even have a claw or a metatarsal left. Just his soul, floating outside of its shell.
An Eevee popped out of the darkness, the one with scars lining their body. He begged at the floating orb with his eyes, whimpering like a beaten dog. Jung would've loved nothing more than to help that Eevee. But neither of them were ready yet. If he gave too much, then Jung would disappear too, and he wouldn't have anything left.
"Jung?" He finally spoke. "It hurts. Everything hurts."
One of the scars reopened a gash on his side. The wound was pure black.
"Please, help me." He tried to nuzzle against Jung's spirit, but his snout passed through Jung's core. "I don't wanna go back. Don't take me back there. They'll kill me."
Jung tried to say sorry, but he had no mouth to apologise with. Another scar reopened across the Eevee's face.
"You're just like them. You're a monster. You wanna eat too?" The Eevee offered his paw. "Then eat. Think about it. I'm tasty. Imagine sinking into those nice dreams. And flesh. I bet you wonder what Eevee meat tastes like too. Just like the others."
Jung wanted to run away, but his soul was fixed into place.
"Or what if I eat yours?"
The Eevee's face contorted into something completely unrecognisable. All Jung saw was that hundreds of teeth and eyes replaced the face, and the tails behind the body whirled like a whip. All of the eyes squinted at Jung. Behind all of that darkness, there were faint shades of yellow, as well as stitches that connected each eye together. They looked like they were all grafted from the faces of dozens of Hypno.
Before the maw consumed him, Jung recognised one set of eyes from the patchwork mouth. Brown eyes. Her eyes. Those sunken lids.
"Jung, play that record for me again, please."
Hoothoot popped out and twirled his pendulum. Instead of sucking Jung's soul, everything else, the malformed Eevee included, got sucked into the Hypno. Everything turned blacker than black, except for the glow of Jung's soul and Hoothoot, whose belly expanded with an orange glow like a Toxicroak's sac. Then Hoothoot deflated like a balloon, squeaking as he floated away.
Jung appeared inside a giant birdcage. It had everything him and Alice needed: a hallway, a kitchen, a lounge area, a bathroom, a bedroom, a piano room, an attic, a hamster wheel, some birdfeed, and an electronic chandelier, spread across three floors. But aside from the artificial light, there was nothing else illuminating the indoors — outside the birdcage, it was just pitch black. A Fletchinder bigger than Jung chirped inside the lounge room, head touching the ceiling. Alice. The feathers on her body fell like snow, melting onto the floor. She yawned as she nursed her broken wing.
"I don't even know what to do today. I just feel so sluggish."
"Don't strain yourself, Alice." He gently grasped her good wing. "Better to rest than to keep spinning your wheels."
"I know, I know." She looked outside the draped window. "I mean, we've watched everything you suggested, I've got all these books but I never feel like reading them." A whole library of books spun around the room like disco lights. "And I keep buying them."
"You can never have too many, I suppose." Jung looked through the translucent walls into the piano room. "Perhaps you could try opening up your slots for more students."
"I'm not doing that." Alice pecked the floor. "I can't even play a note without freaking out anymore. I try to calculate the notes I'll play, then I'll worry about messing up the next one, then— oh, what's the point anymore?" She plucked one of her own feathers out — a bad habit of hers as her plumage had many gaps in them, revealing her bare skin. "How can I teach anyone in this state?"
Jung didn't have an answer for that. He knew how debilitating her anxiety was. For all the time he spent studying psychology online and trying to get into the programme at the university, he still didn't know how to help her, and her family didn't think she needed a therapist. The sertraline sat in the bird feeder, packed like Wishiwashi in a crushed tin box.
"Why won't you switch up your medication?"
"I don't know," Alice sang. "I'm scared of what'll happen if I stop taking them — they've been helping me sleep at night."
"But they might help you — and you might be able to play the piano without spiralling or feeling like a zombie, with the right pills."
"Yeah, I suppose." She preened her remaining feathers. "I think I might put on that jazz record, see if that inspires me."
"I'll be in my room." Jung traced his hand along her fuzzy side. "I hope you find something to get past your block."
"Thanks." Before Alice left the room, she turned to Jung, her head drooping. "I don't deserve you, Jung."
"Don't say that." He forced a smile. "You're good company."
"I wish I could be better, though." She shook her tail. "Never mind."
Jung was alone now. The notes of the saxophone and harp drifted from Alice's bedroom. That would be good background noise as he got back to his studies. He didn't know if he wanted to leave, but he didn't know how long Alice would be around in this state. He didn't even want to think of what his life would be like without her, even though that possibility loomed above him more than ever.
Something else crackled from the record player's sound system: voices.
"Ugh, disgusting creature," Alice's mother said.
"I'm surprised she still keeps that thing around," her sister said.
"Well, she doesn't want to get rid of it," her father said. "Besides, it still helps with her insomnia."
Before Jung could listen to any more of this nonsense, Hoothoot phased through the cage. He didn't immediately raise his pendulum, instead, staring at Jung with lowered eyes.
"What are you waiting for?" Jung asked, realising this was a dream.
"This isn't a nightmare. At least, it doesn't seem like one."
A Fletchinder skeleton materialised in the room, strung up, hung on hooks, and encased in glass as if she was an archaeological exhibit.
"It is a nightmare. For me, anyway. I don't like to revisit this place."
"Alright. I'll get down to business."
Hoothoot half-heartedly opened his maw. The birdcage, Alice's skeleton, everything in it, dissolved into a murmuration of Starly, flying away, taking Hoothoot and Jung along with it.
Jung stood in chains. His back was bruised. His arms shivered, struggling to stay up even if they were bound above his head.
A long-haired human with a blank face, a long powdered wig that reached their waist, and a star-studded sceptre that doubled as a microphone approached Jung, tugging his ears.
"Well, do you confess?"
Everyone waited. Liliane. Amelie. Alice. Pierre. The rest of the judges, juries and executioners, most of which were taken up by Kangaskhan. They stood before him on their podium. Most of them sat idly as they stuffed their faces with fried Torchic or chocolate truffles.
"Confess what?" Jung asked. Just for that, the human struck his face with the sceptre on the jagged end. He was numb to it.
"Your sins."
"Did I eat too many sweets without brushing my teeth?"
"Yes." The human caressed their sceptre like a baby. "But also, look at the screen."
A large, silver screen materialised from nowhere and flickered to life. A CGI intro to some courthouse show played, the one Jung was live on. Judge Judgy appeared as a presenter, recapping the case as they waved their sceptre. The plaintiff was everyone in the world. Humans and Pokemon alike. The defendant was Jung, chained to the chandelier. The crime? Existing. And giving the dentist a migraine because of his sweet tooth.
"Can I call a lawyer?"
"Did you forget that Pokemon don't have legal rights at all?" Judge Judgy cocked their head at a 90 degree angle. "Why make laws for something that has no right to exist? At least, among humans. You have no defense."
"Oh, right." Jung only had himself to blame for being born with yellow fur. "I apologise then for being born."
"That's more like it." They turned around, hair swirling around them like rolling waves. "I suppose I could give you a lighter sentence for confessing and apologising, but remember, you have no rights."
"Why bother talking to me at all then?"
Judge Judgy turned back and snapped their crooked fingers. Jung's knees buckled and his arms stretched to impossible lengths to accommodate the chains. This made Jung into a chair for the judge to sit on.
"Know your place, you foul Hypno." They ground their heel into Jung's fingers. "What are you even talking about? Why do you think I care about the azimuth compass? The skipping record? The Ekans eating itself? That's all I hear from you, even though you learned our language. We'll never learn yours, we don't owe you that much."
"What do you want?" he groaned.
"I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want, and that's for you to decide for yourself. Why would I give you the satisfaction of having an answer? What difference does that make to the way I treat you?"
"None."
"Exactly, so shut up." Judge Judgy pointed their sceptre to the Kangaskhan. "Judges, juries and executioners? What is your verdict?"
The cubs popped out of their mothers' pouches and pressed the big red buttons that sat before them on the jury's desk. It made a buzzer like the losing sound on a game show. Jung scowled. Liliane, Amelie, and Alice pressed a smaller green button, which dinged like a doorbell. They were outmatched.
"Alright. The verdict has been decided." Judge Judgy mercifully stood up. "Jung Hypno, for crimes against humanity and Pokemon alike, and for not flossing your teeth, you are sentenced to an eternity of humiliation." They pointed the microphone towards him. "Now, bark into the nice little Mikey."
"Woof."
They bashed his head with the end of the rod.
"Not good enough! You need to be convincing, acting is reacting, you'll never hit the awards season if you don't put your all into it! Walk on all fours and bark like the dog you deserve to be!"
Jung tried, though his arms were still stuck to the chandelier. He couldn't reach his arms down.
"What do you expect me to do with these chains holding me?!"
"Nothing. Even though you have no control over it, we still expect you to fall in line. Remember, you are beneath us, not even worth the dust at the bottom of my shoes." They raised their heel, sharp tip aimed above Jung's head. "Now put your hands on the floor and bark."
Hoothoot appeared in a Houndour suit, plastic horns protruding from his head. With one bark, he sucked up everything in the room.
Jung stood in a white room, facing an invisible mirror that reflected himself. He admired his features. He tugged at the tip of his ears. He adjusted his glasses. Look at that fur. Look at that longcoat. Look at that long nose. Every feature was fixed perfectly into place. Except, one thing was missing, his pendulum.
It didn't matter. Jung had tossed it away in the ocean on Alola's fine beaches. He watched it sink to the seabed. From now on, that blasted piece of metal would no longer dictate his life.
The reflection moved. Jung's soft, round eyes morphed into angular features until Jung's mirror image stared back at him. Its squinting, pinprick eyes peered into his soul.
"████," it said.
"Yes, that's what I am." Jung crossed his arms.
"█████."
"Oh, so you have a one word vocabulary, that's fine, I guess. I only thought it happened in that TV show…"
The Hypno pointed at him with one hand. The other raised a silver pendulum. Polished to perfection. Not a speck of orange or green on it. It dangled the pendulum in its paw.
"█████, █████, █████," It chanted along with the swaying of the coin.
Jung tried to speak. He couldn't. The psychic force stitched his mouth shut. His body was now a cage for the Hypno to open, and it possessed the skeleton key to his soul. It raised its arm, then Jung raised his. It tapped its foot, Jung tapped his foot. It took a few paces back, as did Jung. It ran towards the mirror, and Jung crashed through the substrate.
Shards pierced through Jung's skin. He broke through the psychic field long enough to scream, like a Chespin jumping on hot coals. His mouth closed again. Damn it, that Hypno did this on purpose. Of course it would. All Hypno were complete, utter bastards that deserved to be put down like dogs.
Including Jung.
The Hypno didn't stop there. It grabbed a huge glass shard off the floor. Jung grabbed a huge glass shard off the floor. It raised it to its stomach. Jung raised it to his stomach-
No, no no no, no no no, no no no no no no no nonononononononononono
Jung resisted, pushing with all of his might as if pushing a bulldozer. The shard stopped short of piercing his belly. It stopped.
That Hypno opened Jung's mouth, letting him breathe a sigh of relief.
Jung knew what was coming before the glass plunged into his-
Jung woke up thrashing and screaming. His heart thundered in his chest. His breaths, raspy and choked. Hoothoot embraced him, hugging him as he cooed against his face.
"Shh, shh, it's alright. You're awake now."
Jung felt like such a baby. He hadn't been this scared since— no no no, he was always scared. He didn't want this. Jung didn't want to be a part of this anymore. He didn't want to be a Drowzee or a Hypno.
Hoothoot's body was so warm. So soft, despite age frizzing up his fur. Jung couldn't stop himself from sobbing into it as it soaked up his tears.
"Oh dear me." Hoothoot stroked the back of his head. "I've seen nightmares in my lifetime, but yours… yours is the worst I've come across by far. You've given me the first stomach ache I've had in a while."
"I'm- I'm- I'm- I'm so sorry-"
"No, shh, it's okay." He squeezed Jung tighter. "You've got nothing to be sorry about."
Jung had no immediate reply to that. Hoothoot kept hold of him until he gathered himself, however long it took. Even when Jung's heart slowed, he still clutched Hoothoot for dear life, and Hoothoot didn't let go either.
"Hoothoot," Jung croaked. "Why is this happening to me?"
"You… you've experienced a lot in your short life so far. I don't know the details, but I felt it in your dreams." He caressed his back. "We bear a huge cross, being Hypno. It's hard to keep one's spirits up when the world is against you."
"How do you deal with it?" Jung sighed. "I don't want to put up with this for the rest of my life. No matter how I make myself look or what I do, it's still not enough for people."
"I've put up with it all my life. Even back then, Hypno were feared all around the world, some of which was for a good reason. Do you know about the Dreamdivers?"
Jung's breath quickened. He never wanted to remember them ever again, in dreams or reality.
They were a nomadic pack of Hypno in Kanto, travelling from place to place to search for prey. They hypnotised people. Pokemon. Human children. They even kidnapped some of them and harvested them for their dreams. Some of their victims either died of starvation or other causes as a result of the hypnotism. The offending Hypno were tracked down and culled on sight. Then word spread through the region, then the rest of the world.
It may have happened decades ago. Or centuries ago. They might as well have been urban legends. Either way, it wasn't a rare occurrence for Jung to get comments comparing him to them.
"Yes, I do."
"Then you know how they ruined everything for us. The thought that a member of our species would do that to innocent people shakes me to my very core."
Jung pried himself away from Hoothoot's embrace. He wanted to run. He didn't want to listen to any more of this. Seeing Hoothoot's surprised expression, Jung gripped his paws.
"Sorry, I don't know how much more of this I can take. So you're saying that humans are right to fear us and there's nothing we can do about it?"
"You can, just that you can't change people's minds all at once, as much as we are capable of doing so if we're truly desperate to. The damage has already been done and I've accepted that." Jung was unsure if he echoed that sentiment. "Besides–"Hoothoot shut his eyes–"I'm with other Hypno that admire me, and I admire them too. I don't need the approval of stinking humans to feel content. So why do you?"
Jung blinked. "Why do I do what?"
"Well, you said it yourself, no matter what you do, it's still not enough for people. And caring after other Pokemon, some of which despise you on sight for what you are, sounds highly stressful as I said. That could be what's causing your nightmares."
Jung pulled back, clutching his arms. "But I haven't felt like this before and I've been working there for nearly a year now."
"Alright, then do you make sure to eat plenty of nice dreams? You need them to keep your strength up."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"You mean you don't eat any dreams whatsoever? Isn't that like a carnivore deciding they want to only eat veggies?"
" I eat plenty of other stuff that my body digests, thank you very much. Sweets and cake satisfy similar needs to those dreams."
"Sweets and cake, you've got a whole nightmare platter there."
"Again, what does this have to do with anything?"
"Those foods make you hyper. If you go to sleep while your brain is active, you might have more nightmares. And if you're using them as a substitute for dream eating, that leads to more nightmares because of stress. I thought someone like you would know that."
"I'm a psychologist, not a doctor." Jung scoffed. "And I'm not eating another Pokemon's dreams if I can avoid it. I've only eaten nightmares lately in order to put my patients at ease, just like you have now."
"Then quit your job."
Jung backed away, standing by the door.
"This job is all I have. Without it, I'm worthless. And–"
"You seem to tie your self worth to your work." Hoothoot gazed through him, his eyes as piercing as a Noctowl's talons. "Is that what you tell your patients, that if they don't give themselves selflessly into every action they take, they're not worth the same comforts any decent Pokemon should afford?"
"No, that's…" Jung sputtered, trembling on his own words. "That's not…"
"I've said it before, but if this job is causing you this much grief, then what's the use? Especially if you don't seem to enjoy it?"
Jung took a deep breath. He needed to gather himself. Jung was the therapist, not the one needing therapy.
"Enjoy isn't the right word. As an adult, you simply have to do things you wouldn't otherwise want to do."
"I know a lot of adults, well, adult Hypno, and they beg to differ."
"But these Pokemon need me!" Jung covered his mouth. He didn't mean to yell. "I've found a community with them and my human coworkers. And I feel like I have a purpose when I'm helping others move forward in life. So I want– no, I need to look after them."
"Alright." Hoothoot sighed. "It seems like you've made your mind up about that. The point about the sugar still stands. And really, what is the worst thing that can happen if you eat another Pokemon's dreams?"
"It steals sleep away from them." Jung paced back and forth across the room. "I couldn't live with myself if I ended up draining their energy to the point they couldn't function."
"But it's all in moderation – we know that first hand since we benefit off of one another. And eating one person's dream doesn't have too many lasting effects, just like losing an hour of sleep doesn't. So why not ask another Pokemon or human if they're willing to lend you the dreams that they want to volunteer?"
Jung opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn't have a retort there. Of course, asking his patients was out of the question since that would be taking advantage of their vulnerable position. He still wasn't particularly close to many people, save for Amelie, and asking her felt wrong.
"Because I have nobody to ask." Jung looked at his feet. "I don't have what you have. I don't know any other Hypno in my life right now. I don't have many friends. I can't get too attached to my patients either, it's not proper."
Hoothoot hummed, stroking his beard again. As he pondered. Jung's stomach rumbled and ached. It was worse than all of the hunger pains he had before. And of course, he forgot to bring more snacks, because he was a stupid Hypno. How was he supposed to know he'd be out this long? But Jung hid his grimace.
"I don't know what the other Hypno think of you. And of course, we try to be careful about how many Hypno we allow in this place. But while you're here, why don't you ask if any Hypno or Drowzee have any dreams up on offer? Tell them I gave you my blessing."
Hoothoot's words put a bitter taste in his mouth. It felt wrong to suddenly waltz into their dwelling and make such a request as an outsider. And it felt even worse to break his streak after ages of abstaining from dreams. He came close to eating the dreams of his patients a few times, sure, but he swore he wouldn't give into temptation.
But what harm could eating one tiny little dream do?