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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 > SandmanuninvitedCatFR733,542141,61812 Sep 0312 Sep 03Yes

Someone's Rocking the Dreamboat

None of this is mine... Dream and the Endless were invented by Neil Gaiman. Buffy The Vampire Slayer was invented by Joss Whedon. I'm just playing with them. No infringements intended.

* * *

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, sat on his throne in his Hall of Endless Night and brooded. His legs were crossed, and one pale hand cupped his chin. His dark eyes were fixed as he felt his realm around him. The Dreaming. Reclaimed after his imprisonment from the wild dreams that had taken advantage of his absence. His bone helm was once more at his side, and his power restored, and yet... And yet there was something wrong. He could feel it, a tiny speck in the Dreaming that was not right. So he sat upon his throne, and brooded over this one speck.

* * *

... She loved him without even thinking about it. She knew she loved him like she knew how to breathe. It was instinctive. He stood there, in her room, in front of her dresser looking out the window at the tree. She loved him, and relished the fact that he was there with her. The times they'd spent together, celebrating her birthday, watching the Icecapades, doing normal stuff. They were precious to her. He turned, showing her a sad face, tired eyes. As she watched he began to shrink. Gathering speed, he got smaller and smaller as she started towards him, to try and hold him with her. She tried to object but had no voice as with a small 'pop' he disappeared completely. She froze, and gasped as she realised she was alone, bereft...

... She loved him. She could feel it as he stood there, tall dark and handsome like a cliché. Her heart swelled until she thought she would burst open with this love. He stood there, in her room, in front of her dresser, looking out the window into the night and she loved him. He turned, showing her an evil face and he lunged towards her as her happiness became terror and she screamed as she thrust the stake forwards...

... She loved him. He was her rock. She relied on him without even thinking about it. She knew that he would always be able to help. He was behind her, protecting her back. Even as she drew comfort from the thought and knowledge, she felt a small sharp pain in her arm. Her senses swam, but she could just make out his face studying her as he withdrew the needle, then he turned and walked away across the sea and her mind shrieked out at her betrayal...

... She loved her. Without even considering it, she knew she loved her. She knew she loved her like she knew how to breathe. It was instinctive. She stood there, in her room, in front of her dresser. She was looking out of the window, at the leaves on the tree. The love she had for her was all-encompassing and comforting, as she knew she was loved back just as strongly. And as she watched, the woman twitched, a hand going to her head in reaction to a sudden pain. Just as suddenly, the woman fell to the floor, and fell through out of sight. She sat, stunned, on the bed. Slowly, understanding came to her and she began to cry in despair...

... She loved her. Her bedroom mirror was not reflecting her face, rather it showed the terrified face of her sister. Her little sister whom she loved. The little sister who depended upon her for protection from those who would use her. As she watched, she realised that she had failed. There was someone with her sister, someone who was cutting her, and she was not there to stop them. The anguish of failure tore a scream from her throat...

... The mouth of the vortex was dark, promising bad things. The pain of her life, the knowledge of all the people who relied upon her to protect them while she had no-one to protect her. No-one to hold her, to promise that everything would be alright, to be her shelter from the storm of life. It all pressed on her mind your gift is death and she stepped forwards, into the vortex...

... Silence. Peace. Joy. Bliss...

... She loved him without even thinking about it. She knew she loved him like she knew how to breathe. It was instinctive. He stood there, in her room, in front of her dresser looking out the window at the tree. She loved him, and relished the fact that he was there with her. The times they'd spent together, celebrating her birthday, watching the Icecapades, doing normal stuff. They were precious to her. He turned, showing her a sad face, tired eyes. As she watched he began to shrink. Gathering speed, he got smaller and smaller as she started towards him, to try and hold him with her. She tried to object but had no voice as with a small 'pop' he disappeared completely. She froze, and gasped as she realised she was alone, bereft...
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