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Someone's Rocking the Dreamboat

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Summary: BtVS/Sandman xover. Dream has a problem with the Dreaming. Buffy just has problems. Previously published as Dream a Little Dream

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > SandmanuninvitedCatFR733,542141,63612 Sep 0312 Sep 03Yes

Chapter 2

I sit upon my throne in the Hall of Eternal Night and ponder. This mote is something strange, new to me.
New, and yet familiar. It isn’t a sign of a vortex. This isn’t another Rose Walker to tear down the
walls between dreamers. No, I know what a vortex feels like and this is different.

The sound of approaching footsteps attract my attention and I watch Lucien approach. He is followed by
two I recognise, Orkney and Gulch. They are fillers - whenever a dreamer has a gap, they fill it. They
have been many things to many people, but they have never been brave enough to approach me. Not until now.
Lucien speaks.

"Milord Morpheus, Orkney and Gulch have brought a matter to my attention and begged me to intercede with
you on their behalf." So. Not that brave then. "It seems that there is a dreamer who is killing dreams."

"S’right!" Gulch broke silence from behind Lucien’s leg. "Tench and Sweebo have been disappeared.
They was just doing their bit, and they’ve been disappeared." Orkney is making ‘shush’ motions at Gulch,
but he refuses to be quenched. "’Snot right. You’ve got to stop it!" Gulch suddenly realises who he is
addressing, and visibly swallows. "Milord, please." He edges back behind Lucien’s leg. I raise my gaze
to Lucien’s eyes.

"I took the remains of Tench and Sweebo to the Workshop, but the Craftsman was unable to restore them."
So. The fillers aren’t at all brave.

They’re terrified.

I wave a hand to dismiss the fillers. Lucien stays, waiting silently while I think.

"I am troubled Lucien. A dreamer killing my dreams so thoroughly that not even the Craftsman can restore
them? I have watched the cycle of dreams she is having and this seems strange.
" Lucien says nothing.
There is nothing to say. It is my responsibility, not his. I am Dream of the Endless.


* * *

I return to the dreamer who still feels wrong, but this time I enter the dreams. I watch silently from the
shadows.

... She loves him. She can feel it as he stands there, tall dark and handsome like a cliché. Her heart
swells until she thinks she will burst open with this love. He stands there, in her room, in front of her
dresser, looking out the window into the night and she loves him. He turns, showing her an evil face and
he lunges towards her as her happiness became terror and she screams as she thrust the stake forwards...

... As she thrusts the stake forwards, it changes into a sword. The room also changes, to a larger one of
stone, less furniture. A statue behind the man, with it’s demon mouth wide open. She has thrust the sword
into the man’s chest, and I see her look at him, her heart in her eyes. I move sideways, to see better as
she pushes with all her body and forces the sword clean through his chest. A dimensional gate collapses,
taking the man with it, and I realise why this feels wrong. This is not a dream, not a nightmare at all.
This is a memory.

She is standing there, her head bowed and I watch her. Suddenly, one swift movement, and the sword is at
my throat.

"Who are you and why are you staring at me?" She growls at me.

"Be at ease." I wonder what, how much, to tell her. "I am Dream. I am not here to harm
you.
"

"Oh goody." Her voice is rich with sarcasm. "Are you the one responsible for giving me these nightmares?"
I raise an eyebrow at her question. The sword is still steady at my throat.

"No. I am here because these are not dreams. These are memories." I reach into my pouch and draw
out a pinch of sand. "Walk with me." She considers for a moment, then drops the sword point and nods.
I scatter the sand.

* * *

The walls of Angel’s mansion dissolve around us. I keep a firm grip on the sword. Just because he says he
means you no harm doesn’t mean it’s true. I look at him, study him as he’s been studying me. Tall. Thin.
Wild black hair. I can’t believe how pale he is - paler even than most vamps. He’s wearing black jeans and
T-shirt with some kind of cloak. Black of course. Except round the bottom, there’s some kind of design,
like flames - or is it faces? I can’t decide. But it looks good on him though.

I don’t know where we are, but this place is maxing out on the Bizarre-o-meter. We’re on a path on a hill
that leads down to a pair of strange-looking gates. Through them is a castle. It doesn’t look like
Dracula’s castle, which is of the good, but it doesn’t look right either. Bits of it look too big. Not
in a they’re-closer-so-they-look-bigger kind of way, just like they’re not built to the same scale. Like
I said. Bizarre.

This Dream guy is walking pretty fast, striding around like he owns the place. Maybe he does.
"So. Why are we taking a trip?"
"This is the Dreaming. My realm. I am responsible for it. Your memories are warping it."

Oh. Well, that was short. Now I just wish Giles were here to tell me what it meant.

* * *

I walk with him through this freaky landscape. Looking at it, I can believe it’s some kind of Dreamland.
Things just aren’t quite right. Things like perspective. And architecture. That castle is still way weird.
Then I see the dot. A small black dot in the sky. The pale man next to me sees it also and stops walking
to watch it approach. Suddenly, as it gets closer, I realise it’s a bird. A black crow. Or maybe a raven.
I’m not good with birds, so I’m not sure which is which. But it’s one of them. Anyway, the Dream guy holds
out his arm and this bird lands on him.

"Hello Matthew." He says. Cute. Naming the bird.

"Hi boss." My mouth drops open. That bird just spoke!

"Matthew, have you seen Lucien?"

"Probably in the Library boss. He was muttering something about watches earlier."

"Thank you." The man looks grave. With a flick of his wrist, he launches the bird, Matthew, into
the air.

"I’ll tell him you’re on your way boss!" Matthew calls as he flies over the gates. The man turns to the
gates, then looks at me.

"The gates of Ivory and Bone. They mark an entrance to the Dreaming." He pauses, reminding me eerily
of Oz and how little he spoke. The Dream-guy looks at me intently, then faces the gates and holds up one
hand. The gates swing open showing a path up to the bizarre castle.

As we move up the path, I try to get some sense out of him.
"So, you say I’m warping this place with this memories? What am I doing?"
He looks out of the corner of his eye at me but doesn’t break his stride.
"Dreams are transient for the most. Things happen and then the dreamer awakes. My dreams that are involved
move on to the next. But not with you."
We enter the castle and I follow Dream in silence.
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