Death was not hard, it was easy. It felt like floating.

Hope was floating in a sea of peace and tranquillity. The water, that wasn't really water, was warm and comforting, not cold at all. And she thought she wouldn't mind floating like this forever. With the entire universe looking down at her, with moons shining and stars winking.

There was nothing else. Just the galaxy up above, and herself, floating in an endless sea. The only sounds came from her limbs languidly moving through whatever substance she was floating in.

It was so serene and peaceful here, she didn't even mind she was all by herself.

As she floated, memories came to visit her, but they triggered no emotion inside of her: good memories, not so good memories, most of them bad. Her life became nothing but a collection of random slides.

A tentative pull, right behind her navel, made Hope go very still.

What the…?

Another slight tug, and then… a harsh yank on an invisible tether dragged her down into the depths.

And as an impenetrable darkness pressed in on her on all sides, Hope screamed and water rushed into her mouth.

She struggled against invisible bonds, fought against hands that pressed her down as agonising pain stabbed through her body, the pain so severe it made her gag. She was forced on her back and she struggled, screamed as sharp bolts of pain shot through her body; her insides felt as though they were torn apart and as if someone was shoving a red, hot poker right up her rectum.

That's when she knew she was in Hell and death was not so easy after all.

She could hear three voices arguing, though whatever they were saying was indistinguishable.

Hope thought one of those voices belonged to Dee and that managed to calm her a bit. Though she knew enough about the Endless to understand that if her fate was to suffer in Hell, not even Dee could help her… hearing her voice, fighting on her behalf, was enough to cease her struggling. And the pain eased.

The two other voices she did not recognize. One was strict yet kind. But the other one… It was whisper soft, the voice you could sometimes hear at the back of your head. And it boomed like thunder, laced with the fury of a thousand raging blizzards and a cold that had existed before time, before sunlight had first cast his rays down on earth. It was also deep and smooth like satin.

An idea was forming in her head, a knowing of who that voice must belong to, but she forgot.

Heat rushed over her skin, scorched her, and she could feel herself drying up on the inside while soaking in sweat on the outside. She might have pleaded for a drop of water, but her lips refused to move and her tongue felt thick and clumsy. She wanted to weep, but she'd become like an empty well and she wouldn't be surprised if sand fell from her eyes instead of tears.

Not that she would ever blame Dee for not getting her out of here–she'd made her own choices after all–but she wasn't sure she'd be able to endure this endless torture for eternity without losing her mind.

Just as she started thinking that perhaps she'd made a mistake in bartering her mortal life, her soul, in the vain attempt to help an immortal, cool drops of water gently fell on her cracked lips and trickled into her mouth. And she nearly choked on them because she was too weak to swallow.

The demons of Hell then decided to leave her alone because the torturing pain faded, to be replaced by dreams she could not make sense of and she could feel her mind slipping.

"It was fun hanging out in here. I think. So many colourful frogs and they were all hopping. And I like your crown. A lot. Do you know the word for when your body is in a place that doesn't really exist but you are there anyway? I think there's a word for it. There should be a word for it. Don't you think? Oh, my siblings want you to return. I hope to see you again. Bye!"

What?

"I've done all I can for her, my sister. My powers are depleted and I must soon set out to retrieve my tools of office that were taken from me by my captors. Only then will I be able to fully heal her and she can return to the waking world."

"Thank you, little brother. Look, I have to go now. There was just a major car pileup in Tampa and it requires a lot of focus. But, I would like to check in on her later, if that's alright."

"You know you are always welcome in my realm and chambers, my sister."

Hope struggled to break free from the tight clutches of sleep. Dee was here, that was all she knew and it sounded a lot like she was about to leave. She thought to bolt upright and call her friend, but all she managed was cracking open one eye, and an eternity later the other. And the strong voice she'd imagined using, was little more but a pitiful rasp. "D!"

It took her a moment to realize that the ceiling was… miles above her. She blinked her eyes a few times but it was still there. High up there. And painted with blue skies and white clouds and cherubs frolicking and playing.

Huh.

A careful sideways glance told her she was in a huge bed, covered in crisp linen sheets and a luxurious light-blue, silk, counterpane. Large windows were open, and the softest of breezes made the thin fabrics of the sheers billow softly. But, instead of seeing the sun shining down, high up in the sky, Hope caught a glimpse of night, a plethora of stars and swirls of colours mixing with the inky blackness. She was looking at what she always imagined space to look like.

Where the hell was she?

Vague memories of torture and pain had her looking around utterly confused.

"Dee?" she croaked. Hope winced at the sound. As if sandpaper had done a thorough job of destroying her vocal cords.

"Oh, my! You're awake! No, don't try to get up! You are not yet fully healed!"

A dark skinned woman with large round glasses hovered into view. And… wait, did she have pointy ears? Hope fell back into the cushions that… Good God in heaven! They felt like little clouds!

"Who are you?" she managed to ask.

Hearing her barely audible rasp, the woman gave her a pitying look. "I am Lucienne, head librarian in the Dreaming. I'm in charge of the Library of Dreams."

The woman… Lucienne… gave her an expecting look. When Hope didn't reply, Lucienne's brows dove together in a frown. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I mean, you were the one who freed my lord, were you not?"

"I–I think I remember trying to free Dee's little brother. I'm not sure I managed though. I was dying and… Wait, did I die?"

Lucienne shook her head, giving her a warm smile. "No, you almost did though. If it hadn't been for His Majesty, you would have died. His sister was already at hand."

Hope held up a hand, tried to at least, it flopped down immediately… she just didn't have the strength. "Can you just… fill me in?" She wanted to indicate the room she was in, but that too was too much of an effort.

"Of course, you received a near fatal wound when you broke the binding circle, and in so doing you gave my lord the means to escape back into the Dreaming. He was almost completely depleted of power when I found him."

"How did I get here?"

"His sister brought you here. My lord Morpheus, though he gained back some power simply by being back in the Dreaming, he was cut off from here for so long… he used whatever he had left to try and save you. Even then, we weren't sure you were going to make it."

"Wait, Morpheus?"

Lucienne gave her a perplexed look. "Yes. Lord Morpheus. King of Dreams? Wait, you weren't aware of his identity?"

"Aware…" Her voice gave out again and she tried in vain to clear her throat.

"Oh, my goodness! You must be parched! Please, forgive my inconsideration!"

Lucienne walked over to the night stand and poured clear water from a huge glass pitcher into a glass. Hope gave her a gratified smile when she accepted the refreshment When she took a sip, she closed her eyes in amazement. Never, ever before had she tasted such pure, thirst-quenching water. It was absolutely sublime.

"Thank you," she said with a sigh. Despite the water, her throat still felt raw and her voice was still a mess, but the water helped. A lot. "I was trying to say, that I've only ever known him as Dream, as Dee always refers to him. Or, 'My little brother'. I didn't know he went by another name."

"Dee?" Lucienne gave her a puzzled look, then smiled. "Ah, you mean Lady Death?"

"Yes, I prefer to call her Dee though. Death… it just doesn't fit her personality."

"There's a lot of that going on in that family," Lucienne muttered and Hope nearly choked on a sip of water when she also chuckled at the wry tone.

"Why's my voice like this?" Hope then asked. "It feels like someone tried to strangle me, but, I don't recall anything like that happening."

At the question, Lucienne's eyes shuttered and her expression became an odd mixture that left Hope clueless about what she was feeling.

"You were screaming… in pain," she finally said, her voice softer than before. "You did so for a long, long time. It was difficult to hear. And see."

She felt a little minute jab in the region of her solar plexus then. A small twinge of guilt. Because what had happened, for Hope, was already past history. Clearly, for Lucienne it was not.

"Ah. Sorry I brought it up. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Make me uncomfortable? How about you? The pain you were in… the-the sort of damage that was inflicted on you!"

"I think it bothers you more than me. And, really, there's no need."

Lucienne gave her an incredulous look and Hope tried to explain. "I don't really remember any pain. Just remnants of fever dreams. As for the sort of damage… I blocked it all out. And, I would really, really appreciate it if we can leave it at that."

Because, as skilled as she was at disconnecting from herself at will, she was always afraid that talking about it would bring back unpleasant memories and feelings.

Perhaps it was her tone of voice, or maybe something in her expression, but Lucienne nodded in agreement, giving her a hesitant little smile. "Can I just say this then? How glad I am–we all are–that you did what you did and brought him back to us. We are forever in your debt." With that she solemnly bowed her head.

"You owe me nothing, Lucienne. And you are certainly in no debt to me. I–I don't mean to be rude, but I didn't do this for you. Or… Morpheus, for that matter. It was merely a favour to a dear friend."

As she said the words, images of that one dream came back to her, that expression of hope and gratitude on his face… and then the horror, shock and disbelief, and the grief. And she knew that what she'd just said wasn't entirely true. And with how Lucienne referred to her Lord, Hope also realized she'd unwittingly caught a glimpse of him that perhaps no one had ever seen before; she now knew something about Morpheus that he probably didn't even know had been revealed to her.

"Be that as it may, Hope Ericks. We are grateful." Lucienne told her solemnly.

Hope sensed the presence of someone in her room as she floated between comforting clouds, drifting in and out of sleep, her mind registering little else but mild bemusement. A blissful state she was reluctant to let go, because waking up inevitably came with worries about every day life.

But, someone was in her room and that was not something she could ignore.

So down, down she went until her mind settled itself back inside of her body.

She forced her eyes open and blinked and for a strange moment she saw a naked man, seated in a glass dome, with alabaster skin, wild hair, features set with grim defiance and his eyes filled with loathing.

But that was not possible, that was… then. When Dee's not so little 'little' brother was still trapped and held in a glass prison.

She blinked again and the image shifted. The same man–Morpheus, she reminded herself–was peering back at her, but now he was fully dressed, all in black. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, not sitting. The shadows from the dark hallway that surrounded him were in stark contrast to the cheerful lights coming from the shaded lamps in her room and the bright blue colour of her counterpane.

His features, though less grim, were still drawn in serious lines and his eyes regarded her with emotions she could not define. At least they were no longer filled with loathing, but more of a… curiosity? A hint of wariness in them as well, perhaps?

"It is good to see you awake, Hope Ericks." His features softened somewhat upon saying those words. "Are you in any pain? How do you feel?"

She struggled herself a bit upright and instantly winced at the uncomfortable pull in her back and a bit of a burning sensation in her… bum. Knowing the reason for that particularly raw feeling sent flames of heat to her cheeks. Because he'd been there. Had seen what Jason had done. What she'd allowed him to do.

"Just a bit sore," she said quickly.

Something glittered in his eyes, though the rest of his face remained unmoved.

"You allowed that man to defile you."

Hope blinked at the statement that was delivered without inflection of any kind. She felt unsure at how to respond. It was such a random thing to say.

"I did not need–" Morpheus began, then clamped his jaw shut. "I was doing perfectly–"

His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips a little.

After a few heartbeats of silence he tried again. "It is not my wish to appear ungrateful, because I am not. And do not think I am not aware of the high cost you had to pay, because I am."

Interesting use of language there. Then again, he had spent over a century trapped in a glass bowl. Still, Hope had no idea where he was going with this, so she just waited, twisting her hands together in her lap.

Again something glittered in his eyes and this time Hope could see it wasn't good.

"Though I am glad to be free, I am less appreciative of the high cost I had to pay."

Bristling with affront, Hope remained silent and merely stared back at him.

The high cost he had to pay? She curled her fingers into the fabric of the counterpane and clenched it.

"Burgess only managed to capture me with that foolish circle of his because a strenuous ordeal had left me in a weakened state. Near depletion, in fact. The moment I regained my freedom, what little power I had left I used to get back to the Dreaming."

Hope narrowed her eyes at him for she had a feeling he was leaving bits and pieces out. Still, hearing him admit he'd already been weak the moment he'd been trapped. It did something to her. And she wondered. Had he been scared?

"There was barely enough of my power left to see you through your ordeal, but then I had nothing, nothing left to do what I had to…" He shook his head and breathed deeply through his nose. "No matter," he said, his voice suddenly dropping an entire octave. "Today I had to take back a gift I had given a long time ago. Just to be able to get some of my power back. I did not wish to do it, but there was no other choice. Because I had nothing left." He nearly hissed the word 'nothing' at her from between gritted teeth and this time she had no problems at all deciphering the emotion that flared in his eyes… anger.

Her first instinct was to retaliate with a matching temper. In fact, she'd already opened her mouth to, no doubt, fling some very unwise remark in his direction.

But she didn't. Her fingers unfurled and released their grip.

Because, hidden behind that facade of anger she detected something else. Pain. Regret.

She didn't know what had happened to him today, but to her it registered as a loss. It seemed, for a very long time, loss was all that had come his way. Jessamy, all they'd robbed him of during his captivity, his once thriving Kingdom. And now yet another loss. He was simply lashing out and that she could understand.

Still, she didn't like being accused of something she had no knowledge of and that ultimately wasn't her fault at all.

She levelled her eyes with his and calmly asked him,"Would you rather have been waiting for another century or whatever time you would have needed to free yourself?"

The look he gave her made her push herself further back into the cushions.

"No." His voice now raw and gravelly.

"Okay," she mused, "So, you do consider being free now has its advantages?"

"I did not say… Yes," he finally managed to say.

"Then your problem is not with the fact I helped you, but with the fact that healing me drained the remainder of your powers. So, why did you do it then? You could have simply walked away. What I did was not to help you, but your sister. You owe me nothing."

And then something interesting happened. His eyes rounded imperceptibly, his lower lip dropped just a fraction and she faintly heard a sharp intake of breath. Though that could have also been her imagination. His Adam's apple moved up and back down when he swallowed.

"I owe you every–" He stopped abruptly.

Point made.

His jaw worked spasmodically as though he was forced to chew on a mouthful of different emotions. Then his eyes shuttered and he ducked his head.

"I… I am grateful." The way he said it betrayed the emotion he was trying to hide.

He carried himself very straight, almost aggressively so, but, when he turned to leave her alone again, there was a brief moment his shoulders slumped, just a little. That moment he looked like a man who shouldered the heavy burden of the entire universe.

He quickly righted himself again.

And Hope couldn't help but wonder if, at that moment, that burden wasn't a little too heavy for those slim shoulders to bear.

She would have hugged Dee if her friend ever exuded a look of such loneliness and she wondered if there was anyone who ever gave him a hug.

Somehow she doubted it and that thought caused a slight twinge or pinch in her heart.

It was better to think of nicer things. Like his voice. Deep and rich, bitter yet a little sweet.

And now she had a sudden craving for chocolate.

She snorted a laugh at the absurd thought and settled back into bed with a smile.