Room 322, Thursday Morning
Death was on a rocky peak on the Dreaming, rain battering down on her as she talked to her brother for what she knew would be the last time.
"There's personal responsibility, too, y'know? Not only the kind you're always talking about," she told him. She fought with her umbrella as she did so he couldn't see her start to cry. "I just want to know why."
"I did not plan this, my sister," Dream began. "I had imagined that I would be able to keep events here in check. ..."
He kept talking. Death's umbrella was now up, then it flew away in the storm as her anger and impatience with Morpheus rose in her throat. "Destruction simply left," she reminded him. "Took down his sigil, said he wasn't responsible for the realm of destruction anymore, that it was no longer his affair, and took off into the forever. You could have done that."
Dream's answer was simple. "No. I could not."
As Death nestled into his bare, wet shoulder, she could only say, "No, you couldn't, could you?" She might have stayed like that for a while, let the rest of the world do what it was going to do, but a voice came from above her.
"Did you feel that, Dream King?" it taunted. "We are ripping your world apart."
Death could feel Dream's already weak will to live slipping even further as she frightened the Kindly Ones away. "There," she said, once they'd retreated, then: "Well ... what are we going to do with you?"
"They are destroying the Dreaming. What else can we do? I have made all the preparations necessary," Dream said. He'd sat on the edge of the cliff, letting his feet dangle into the nothing below.
"Hmmph. You've been making them for ages. You just didn't let yourself know that was what you were doing," Death said crossly. And for once, Dream didn't argue.
"If you say so."
She steeled herself. "Dream? Give me your hand."
As they touched, he turned into the light that took him wherever dead dreams went.But this was where Didi's dream split from reality. The flash was warm as sunlight, and Dream's voice came from it. "Dream of me, and I will come."
Waking, she knew it meant more than the vague promise it might have seemed. The rock had told her that much.
Her only question was how Del would react.
[OOC: Dream text borrowed from Sandman #69 by Neil Gaiman. Thank you to icecoldfrost for finding and uploading a scan of it for me. Closed door, open post!]
"There's personal responsibility, too, y'know? Not only the kind you're always talking about," she told him. She fought with her umbrella as she did so he couldn't see her start to cry. "I just want to know why."
"I did not plan this, my sister," Dream began. "I had imagined that I would be able to keep events here in check. ..."
He kept talking. Death's umbrella was now up, then it flew away in the storm as her anger and impatience with Morpheus rose in her throat. "Destruction simply left," she reminded him. "Took down his sigil, said he wasn't responsible for the realm of destruction anymore, that it was no longer his affair, and took off into the forever. You could have done that."
Dream's answer was simple. "No. I could not."
As Death nestled into his bare, wet shoulder, she could only say, "No, you couldn't, could you?" She might have stayed like that for a while, let the rest of the world do what it was going to do, but a voice came from above her.
"Did you feel that, Dream King?" it taunted. "We are ripping your world apart."
Death could feel Dream's already weak will to live slipping even further as she frightened the Kindly Ones away. "There," she said, once they'd retreated, then: "Well ... what are we going to do with you?"
"They are destroying the Dreaming. What else can we do? I have made all the preparations necessary," Dream said. He'd sat on the edge of the cliff, letting his feet dangle into the nothing below.
"Hmmph. You've been making them for ages. You just didn't let yourself know that was what you were doing," Death said crossly. And for once, Dream didn't argue.
"If you say so."
She steeled herself. "Dream? Give me your hand."
As they touched, he turned into the light that took him wherever dead dreams went.But this was where Didi's dream split from reality. The flash was warm as sunlight, and Dream's voice came from it. "Dream of me, and I will come."
Waking, she knew it meant more than the vague promise it might have seemed. The rock had told her that much.
Her only question was how Del would react.
[OOC: Dream text borrowed from Sandman #69 by Neil Gaiman. Thank you to icecoldfrost for finding and uploading a scan of it for me. Closed door, open post!]