#fmaa2

What the hell was happening?

“Nightmare.” Dream smiled down at him, his eyes warm and full of love. The sight alone had said one’s heart beating loudly in his chest, blood flowing to his cheeks.

His heartbeat only sped up when Dream inched closer to him, soft fingertips brushing over the back of his neck as he felt the other’s thigh pressing against his hip.

Was that a dream? It had to be, there was no way this was happening in real life.

Dream’s other hand landed on his chest, making him wonder if the other was able to feel how quickly his heart was beating against his ribcage. Could he also feel the tingles of petals everywhere he touched him? He blinked, as if surprised before his smile softened, causing Nightmare’s heart to melt.

He had never felt so warm before, not even when the two of them were trapped in each other’s arms. He did not even know that such warmth was possible. It was not burning either, just the perfect temperature to have him feeling all fuzzy and soft inside, he never felt so good, and he never wanted this moment to end.

His heart all but leaped out of its place when the hand on his chest left, instead guiding one of Nightmare’s hands toward his own chest. Even through the fabric of Dream’s sweater, he was able to discern the soft thumping of the other’s heart that seemed almost like a carbon copy of Nightmare’s erratic heartbeat. The implication of that had his head spinning.

“I’m freaking out too.” Dream chuckled, voice light and relaxed, so different from the stifled and anxious one Nightmare was used to. He caught himself thinking that getting rid of the Priest was the best decision he has ever made, no matter how much he suffered in the aftermath. If it meant seeing Dream so joyful, he would not even mind going through all of it again. “But it’s not so bad, right?”

His grip on his wrist tightened just a bit but instead of hurting, it only spread warmth through Nightmare’s veins, his golden eyes bore into Nightmare’s, looking for an answer in those familiar irises.

All that attention was overwhelmingly pleasant.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” He heard himself say, gently freeing himself from Dream’s grip before he intertwined their fingers, his fingertips brushing over Dream’s visible vein lines. “Just us, just me and you together as it was always meant to be.”

Normally, he would never dare utter such words aloud, for fear of ruining what they had and because of how embarrassing it was, but this was a dream anyway, was it not? Maybe that was the source of his newfound shamelessness.

He tugged Dream’s arm forward, leveling the other’s wrist to his face before he leaned down and boldly kissed the lines drawn by his veins, his lips tingling where they met skin.

Dream’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red at his actions as he finally settled on straddling the other’s waist. “You... shouldn’t do these things so casually.”

Nightmare’s eyes turned to focus on him again, his lips still pressed against lighter soft skin. He found himself admiring how much that shade of red suited the other, especially since it drew attention to his sparkling eyes that only tempted Nightmare to stare at them and not look away.

“Nothing I ever do to you or with you is casual.” he replied, squeezing his hand to stop the subtle tremor he could feel against his palm. “It’s a gift from me to you, for everything you have done for me.”

Dream tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “For everything I have done for you?” He echoed, perplexed. Before he could follow it up with a question though, Nightmare opened his mouth once more.

“I used to believe hands were made for fighting.” He began, making the other shut his mouth to listen. “They were always synonymous of pain and fear for me, before you, I had no idea hands could be so comforting and healing.” As if to emphasize his point, he detangled their hands before pressing his cheek against Dream’s palm.

Almost mechanically, his thumb started drawing small circles on his cheek, earning him humming from Nightmare.

“I had no clue eyes could hold anything other than hatred; I didn’t even know eyes could be pretty before I met you. For me, to make friends was to receive glares and brace hostility, you’re the first one who ever showed me what kindness and respect even was.” As he talked, he found himself closing his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Dream’s fingertips against his skin.

“I was used to the cold and the loneliness, and I was fine with them. Then, you came into my life and swung an axe at what I’ve always known and decided to show me how warm another person’s embrace could be, how freeing it was to have someone by your side.”

To show vulnerability was something Nightmare wasn’t used to, so how come it came so naturally when he was speaking to Dream? He did not quite understand but he would not have it any other way.

“You have no clue how much you mean to me, hell if you did it might even scare you.” He chuckled at that, nuzzling Dream’s hand. “I used to think– Ah, I scratch that, I still do– that life sucked and I was just better off dead. I never cared about what happened to me because I had nothing to stay for anyway. Now, for the first time in my life, I’m afraid, not because I fear death, but because I can’t stand the thought of being separated from you.”

He pursued his lips, the mere thought enough to sour his mood. “To never be able to see you smile, to hear you laugh, to listen to your voice, to touch you, to just be there with you... it just sounds like hell to me. For the first time in my life, I’ve got a home to come back to and a person to protect, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to let you go.”

He ignored how unstable his voice had become or how shaky Dream’s breaths had gotten or even acknowledge how much Dream’s hand was trembling. If he did not say it now, he would never do it again.

“You make my life bearable, feel pleasant even. Seriously, how did you even manage to do that?” He risked a glance at the other whose eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Unfortunately, though, it only served to actually make him shed his tears. He sniffled, as he attempted to wipe them away with his sleeve. The other stopped him before he could though, instead resuming what he was doing and kissing his tears away.

“What are you crying about? I am complimenting you here, it’s not meant to be making you sad.” He could not help but tease, earning a half-hearted glare from Dream in response before he weakly slapped his shoulder in retaliation.

“You’re a moron.” He hiccupped reproachingly, shoving Nightmare back with a huff. Nightmare would have voiced how cute Dream was being but unfortunately, he was quite fond of the bed they were sharing and was not looking forward to sleeping on the couch tonight, so he kept his mouth shut about that. “Who even allowed you to say such beautiful things? Couldn’t you just say, ‘I love you’ like a normal person?”

Nightmare smiled fondly, reaching upward and playing with the other’s soft locks. “Such simple words could not even convey even a tenth of my adoration for you, after all my heart only beats for you.”

“Okay, now you’re just showing off.” Dream deadpanned, causing Nightmare to laugh. The golden-eyed one sighed, readjusting his position to rest his head on the other’s chest, his arms loosely wrapped around his torso. “How am I even meant to respond to this? I can’t word anything that wouldn’t sound bland in comparison to what you said.” He sounded genuinely frustrated, which was a surprise to Nightmare.

“If you’re worried about that, then between the two of us, someone is smarter than you.” Dream let out an offended gasp at that which was quickly ignored as he wrapped his arms around Dream, firmly keeping his head down against his shoulder. “I already know that you love me back, that’s enough.”

Dream clearly seemed to want to protest but he pressed him closer instead, adding with a voice too broken to be normal: “However, I need you to swear you’re never going to think of leaving me again.”

The trapped one opened his jaw, about to express his confusion before he abruptly shut it as pathetic cries, a burning throat, tears mingling with a soap-like substance, the smell of alcohol and medicine, and the shrieking of the ambulance car assaulted his mind.

Among the blurry memories, a figure with desperate purple eyes stood out, begging him to hold on and not make him live in a world where he was not there.

He tightened his hold over Nightmare, one of his hands ending up fisting the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t leave, not again.” He managed to squeak out, recalling how Nightmare held him after the incident, like he wanted to open his ribcage and tuck Dream inside or like he was the fool cradling sand and hoping it would stop it from being blown far away by the wind.

“But you better not go anywhere either.” He added, a familiar boy with a noose around his neck making sure to remind him he was not the only one who attempted to end their story prematurely.

“I’ll follow you for the rest of my life, if only you would be so kind as to permit it.” He replied, quickly adding the last part.

Dream scoffed, lifting his head before he crashed their lips together. Nightmare responded in kind, flipping them over so he would be on top of him instead.

The other’s arms wrapped around his neck, bringing them impossibly closer as the kiss deepened. Nightmare reached for one of Dream’s knees, lifting it by its back and rubbing soothing circles on the bare skin. Both would have been perfectly content to continue kissing but unfortunately, human beings did need to breathe, which forced them to separate for a bit.

“We should get married.” Nightmare said, out of breath, clearly too dizzy and drunk on the present moment to be deciding such important things.

“Talk about marriage after you get a ring.” Dream, always the reasonable one, wisely reminded him before kissing him again.

Blue stood behind the cameras, exhaling softly. He stared quietly at the decor he would be filmed in for the next hour with a lot of apprehension, if the subtle tremble of his body was anything to go by.

Stage fright was never a problem he had to face.

On the contrary, he craved the feeling of eyes on him. He craved the feeling of being gazed upon with admiration. He craved the eventual applause of the public, satisfied with his performance.

When he started filming, there was no more audience to immediately react to his work, but movie reviews were quite pleasant as they were not bound to a particular moment.

Filming an interview with a journalist was hardly any different, feeling wise. Many of them had tried to set him up before, but he always did his best to not give that satisfaction to whoever it was.

Yet, he now found himself trembling.

Why?

Honestly, he knew the reason why. It had nothing to do with who would be interviewing him, it had nothing to do with the cameras rolling, it had nothing to do with the worry of looking like a fool.

No, it had to do with the subject of the interview itself.

The first thing that a young actor such as himself learns, most times the hard way, is to put on a mask, even if you are not filming. You always must play a role, no matter where you are or with whom you are.

The public and journalists will grasp any straws to get your attention and above all, they will pick out any flaws, any part of your personality that they do not like and pick at it, desperate to make you break.

The more of your real self you put out there, the more it will hurt when backlash comes to hit you in the face.

That is, after all, the fate of any public figure.

Yet, here he was, about to talk about the person he had carefully buried deep inside his soul and hidden with a mask. He was about to throw out the window everything he had come to learn to protect himself.

He already had the feeling that he was about to bitterly regret doing this.

But he could not back down, not if his testimony could help someone struggling with the same things he did... has.

His breathing started to go funny again but before it could escalate into anything, soft fingertips brushed his knuckles, giving him something to focus on as that fleeting sensation quickly turned into a proper touch, a familiar hand covering his own.

He lifted his head, meeting golden eyes in which concern glistened like diamonds.

“Are you alright?” Dream whispered, his thumb stroking Blue’s palm.

He hesitated for a moment, before nodding, using his free hand to cover Dream’s. “I am now.”

He scooted closer to him, their legs touching before he rested his head on top of Dream’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “Thank you for being here.” He muttered, hoping that his whisper was enough to convey just how grateful he was to him.

Although, he had the feeling that Dream was going to misinterpret his words as thanking him solely for being here with him on that day when really, he was thanking him for being here with him since day one.

But that was okay, he would have plenty of time left to thank him again, properly this time.

Dream’s lips twitched upward in a gentle smile. “No need, it is only natural.”

It was not, not to him.

“Mr. Blue?” A member of the staff, so recognizable by their uniform, suddenly called out to him, putting an end to his conversation with his husband.

“Yes?” He quickly responded, already dreading whatever the crew member was about to say. “Is something the matter?”

However, the person quickly shook their head, much to his relief. “Not quite, I was just sent to warn you that the cameras will start rolling soon since you looked quite...” They glanced at Dream, stifling a chuckle. “... Distracted.”

Dream chose to ignore that last comment as Blue thanked them for the warning.

“If you need a break, tell me, okay?” That must have been the sixth time in the last hour that the actor heard that request from the other, but oddly enough, he did not mind the repetition. If anything, it reassured him.

“I will.” He squeezed his hand, hoping it would give him enough strength to fulfill the mission he was meant to complete by coming here. “Thank you.”

They fell silent as the lights went out and the decor lit up, the presenter finally welcoming the audience warmly as they gave a summary of who the guests were and the program for the day.

As the presenter turned to him, professional smile stretching their face, Blue took a deep breath. This sight was familiar to him, such charade having taken place for longer than he could recall.

“I am glad that you were able to make it today, Mr. Blue!” They then turned to Dream. “The same goes for you, Mr. Von Licht!”

Dream waved the comment away with the back of his hand. “Oh please, no need to mention it. You can ignore my presence for now as I am only here to support my husband.”

The presenter feigned a chuckle, making a comment on how heartwarming that gesture was, before ultimately focusing on Blue. He straightened his back, putting on the same smile the public adored and worshipped since he was a child.

“Your fans have a lot of inquiries for you and most specifically about your mental health journey.” They began, bending to the right as they took a hat that Blue did not even notice its presence and put it on their knees, revealing the small cards discarded inside of it. “Would it bother you to pick one of those cards?”

Blue nodded as an answer, clutching onto Dream’s hand for dear life as his free hand reached for the hat that the presenter put on top of the coffee table in front of them.

He fumbled around the papers for a few seconds with a shaking hand before he finally caught one between his index and middle finger, pulling his hand back and opening the card.

“What does it say?” The presenter asked, as Blue could feel Dream leaning toward him and reading the contents of the card behind his shoulder.

Blue bit his lip as he read the card silently before risking opening his mouth, hoping on all deities out there that his voice would not quiver so early on. “Do you or did you believe that starving yourself made you more beautiful?”

The gentle rubbing of Dream’s hand on his shoulders made him almost want to cry but he quickly regained his composure. “... Quite honestly, yes. I still have a lot of issues regarding dissociating my appearance to my diet and do feel more appealing when I go on about my day on an empty stomach.”

Each word he uttered out loud felt like a stab in the chest, but he pushed himself to continue, thinking of all the other people who could be in the same situation as he is.

He turned toward Dream, who smiled encouragingly at him, which ended up making him crack a smile as well.

“Luckily for me though, I have an amazing husband who would still find me attractive no matter what I look like.” He paused as his smile faded. “I doubt that my relationship with my body or food will ever improve, but I have at least come to accept that my looks aren’t all there is to appreciate about me and am doing my best to try and put my health first.”

“Thank you for your answer.” The presenter finally said, after making sure that Blue was done talking. They eyed him for a few seconds, without malice, before talking again. “It is a priority for our guests to be feeling as comfortable as possible so how would you like to speak about a more usual topic?”

Blue tilted his head on the side, his curiosity piqued. Even if it was, he probably would have latched onto that opportunity either way, considering the dull pain in his stomach had been worsening ever since he started speaking or did it just feel this way because he wanted to do it again and he knew his last words were a blatant lie?.

“Not at all, what do you want to ask me about?” They were most likely referring to questions regarding his career, but perhaps they could be able to surprise him this time?

“I think many of us had dreamed of becoming an actor or play in a theatre at least once in our life,” She started, giving right to Blue’s intuition. “We all have our weaknesses when it comes to acting but, as a professional actor, what is, for you, the most difficult emotion to fake?”

Well, that was certainly an unusual question. Blue tapped his chin in thought, trying to recall any moment he had any difficulty entering his role.

He glanced at Dream for a moment, the latter flashing him with one of his confused smiles that never failed to make his heart flutter. He had his answer now.

“Many people would think it would be despair, especially with how hard it is for most people to cry for a role.” He shook his head.

“However, I firmly believe it is one of the easiest. No matter what degree, we have all felt desperate. Whether it be regarding an absence of support, an inability to connect with other people, mistreatment, financial problems, the death of a loved one... We have all been in that dark place that some of us are still not able to claw their way out. Tears are not the only form this despair takes as well.”

Despair could take the form of letting a trusted one do whatever they want, what you wanted be damned, your comfort be damned, as long as they stayed with you.

It could take the form of a blade that you would drag on your skin and silence whatever storm was brewing in your head before tempting you for more hurt, for more blood to stop the hurt you felt inside.

It could take the form of vomiting the little food you had managed to shove down your throat, heaving and gasping for breath as you could feel your throat and stomach burning like they were attacked by the embers of hell.

It could also take the form of standing in the middle of the crowd and feeling just as alone and unseen as if you had been thrown into the void itself.

He looked toward the camera, the people behind it eyeing him with attention. “The hardest emotion to fake is happiness, true happiness.”

At the raised eyebrow he received, he continued his explanation. “We have all felt despair, but only a few of us know happiness. I am not talking about those fleeting moments of satisfaction or relief, I am referring to a safe happiness, that euphoria you can always go back to no matter where you find yourself.”

“You could be having the roughest day of your life, but the memory of that happiness would not make you resentful, more miserable, or bitter, it would make you happy. That happiness of course would not prevent you from feeling miserable, far from, but it would, it will be there for you when you do.”

The presenter stayed without talking for a few seconds before speaking again. “And did you find yours?”

Blue beamed at Dream, planting a kiss on his cheek. Startled, the latter’s cheeks turned rose as he stared at Blue in bewilderment. He squeezed his hand once more as his smile widened. “Yes, yes I did.”

He turned back to the presenter, this time, genuinely confident he would get through that interview unscathed.

He could fall as many times as he wanted, he could break as many times as he needed as well, it all did not matter.

He was out of that dark place, despair could try to drag him back there, it could tempt him all he wanted with that cursed picture in his mirror or those sharp blades, he would not stay there any longer.

Even if he fell once more, he would do anything in his power to claw his way back up.

He was damaged, that much was obvious.

It was Monday morning, and a new day of high school full of learning for Dream and Nightmare. Though, it would be more accurate to single out Dream since Nightmare was currently sprawled over his desk, his face buried in his arms as he slept.

Dream, sat next to him as usual (Nightmare never let anybody else sit beside him, he was his best friend, get your own), seemingly unfazed by the other’s state. There was nothing surprising about it as he usually spent the day sleeping and the night thriving.

But how repetitive this was seemed to just get on the teachers’ nerves and that held especially true for the history professor, who was angrier than usual that day.

They had just finished scolding the whole class when they noticed Nightmare’s sleeping form, their wrath reigniting on the spot as they ordered Dream to wake his friend up.

At the latter’s refusal, the teacher walked up to their table and reached out to Nightmare, about to shake him awake themself. However, they were stopped from touching him by Dream grabbing their hand.

Before they could think of lashing out at him, he spoke up. “Believe me, you do not want to see how problematic Nightmare can be when he gets woken up.”

They stared at each other for a solid five seconds before the teacher finally turned away, scoffing.

They were not the only one dissatisfied with Nightmare’s behavior, their colleagues were too, often complaining about how he did not pay attention to class, too busy sleeping to care for their lessons.

Some would even complain about Nightmare having the audacity to lay on Dream’s lap and sleep, not budging an inch when he was called out to.

They could all agree that Nightmare was a student who did not care about lessons yet, he always got one of the highest grades on tests, right behind Dream.

At first, they were convinced that he was cheating on Dream’s paper, seeing that he was the top student and always sitting next to him, it did not seem impossible. However, Nightmare’s results would be the same even if he were to be put alone in a room. The worst thing is that he only ever seemed to improve.

When he was questioned about it, he only responded that he had a very good night tutor.

But who would be able to teach that well and so frequently?

***

Dream was popular at school and those who interacted with him frequently liked to say that they knew him. Truth was, they did not know anything about him.

Nightmare quite liked to make that point clear.

For example, they had no clue that Dream not only sleep talked about the classes he attended earlier in the day or what he studied for a test, but he was also capable of answering questions about said topics, even better than when he was awake.

So, the late-night tutor he was talking about was in truth Dream, who himself was not aware of it and was as equally confused as anyone else on how Nightmare managed to ace his classes.

Now, even if he was not listening in class, Nightmare was far from stupid and could generally understand things fast.

Literature? He could bullshit his way through.

History and Geography? Easy, done.

Math? He could cook an egg while waiting for his classmates to finish solving their first equations.

Physics and Chemistry? He could do those while in deep coma.

Although, he did have one weakness.

Biology.

That wicked subject was truly the bane of his existence, nothing about it making sense for Nightmare. He was just unable to understand it.

Of course, the next day he was going to have a test on that subject, where would the fun be otherwise?

When they got home, the routine would be roughly the same. Make sure the kids were okay, Dream would make some dinner since it was his turn this week while Nightmare practiced his violin seeing his upcoming recital, eat together and then Dream would get to work while Nightmare played games or something.

“We have a test tomorrow.” Dream would remind him, an eyebrow raised. “You’re not going to study?”

Nightmare would then wave his worries with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him. “Don’t worry, I have got it all figured out.”

Used to that, Dream would just shrug and go back to studying. His best friend was always quite the unique individual, he would most likely be alright.

***

A problem that could arise with counting on this technique was that he needed Dream asleep deep enough to start talking, which meant that if that day he unfortunately had trouble falling asleep, it would be bad news.

Of course, the one day he actually needed his explanations, Dream would only find sleep at midnight. He kept his frustration in the back of his head as he patiently waited for the other’s eyes to flutter shut.

Soon, soft breathing reached his ears as Dream’s chest slowly and subtly rose, his head heavily leaning against the pillow. After he had fallen asleep, it usually only took a few minutes for him to start talking so he waited, quietly admiring his sleepy face.

Dream was always so stressed all the time; it was quite a breath of fresh air to finally see him so relaxed after everything.

Whenever he was smiling, Nightmare always found himself staring, thinking to himself how badly he wanted to be the one to cherish that smile forever.

I mean, Dream was quite awfully pretty and always treated Nightmare well when nobody else has, was it really so weird for him to have fallen for him?

He wondered if the other would one day ever return his feelings.

He shook his head, cursing. This was not the time to think of things like that.

As if on cue, Dream’s lips started to open, all the signs Nightmare needed to reach for the notebook he hid under his pillow.

“The average male adult body possesses 36 trillion cells while an average female adult body possesses 28 trillion cells--”

There we go.

Dream just started and Nightmare was already confused.

“How can they be sure of the number? Did they just count the cells??”

A pause.

“They are not actually certain about the numbers cited earlier; those are just estimations.” Dream began to answer, bringing the blanket closer to his body. “They based their research on the number of cells in a tissue, determining their average sizes and mass and only then estimated how many cells that tissue possessed based on 1500 scientific papers.”

Nightmare scribbled down the information, knowing their biology teacher was likely to include fun facts like these in the test. He would bet a hand that Dream was the one who searched up the information on top of reviewing their lesson.

“The research was conducted based on an adult male body weighting 70kg while the woman was around 60kg. However, it is interesting to know that the estimation on the female body’s number of cells was based on figures that largely depicted male bodies so there is a lot of uncertainty surrounding it. Moreover, even the estimation on the male body is largely contested as the variation between male bodies each weighting 70kg is similar to one between a male and a female body.”

Oh stars, he was going to hate tonight’s tutoring, was he not?

***

It was 4 a.m. and Dream had stopped talking.

They were far from finished and Nightmare was eager to finish taking notes already, so he raised an eyebrow at Dream. “Why did you stop?”

Nightmare finally understood what was happening when Dream’s facial expression changed to a frown as he groaned.

He was waking up.

“Fuck!” He cursed, sitting up. “Dream, for the love of everything you want, please stay asleep I really need you to continue your explanation-”

The other did not seem to react to his words, looking even closer to waking up.

The other panicked as he thought of all the ways he could try to prevent him from waking up. Maybe he could whack him like a fly and hope it would knock him out? But then again, that sounded like an awful idea.

Then, two memories popped into his head.

In one of them, he could feel Dream’s fingers in his hair as he laid on his lap as he slowly fell asleep to the feeling. In the other, a similar situation, only that Dream was the one having his hair played with.

...

It was a habit they had as children when the other had trouble sleeping.

They have not done it for a long time, but it was worth a shot, right?

He was desperate to keep Dream asleep anyway, he could think of an excuse to give him on the spot, if he ended up waking up to the other petting his hair.

He hesitantly reached out, his fingers sliding between the other’s locks.

Dream tensed at first, though he was quick to relax, almost immediately leaning into his touch. Soon, as he kept petting his hair, Dream resumed his soft breathing, his eyes closed.

...

Okay, who gave Dream the right to be so goddamn cute? Nightmare questioned as he snickered, hiding his flustered face behind his free hand. He kept going for a few minutes, the other’s speech picking up where he had left it.

He reluctantly retrieved his hand, continuing to take notes.

The next morning, Dream was confused as to why Nightmare could not seem to look him in the eye.

It was a Saturday evening when Blue and Nightmare ran into each other at the hospital where Dream was being treated. Well, perhaps ‘ran into each other’ might not actually be entirely accurate. They just found themselves in Dream’s room at the same time.

Neither of them seemed surprised at the other’s presence, despite never having seen each other until now, they knew they were both extremely worried about Dream’s prolonged absence and have been visiting him as often as they could.

Both of their attention turned toward the bed as fast as it was diverted. Today again, the heart of their concern was still lying completely motionless on the piece of furniture, eyes closed and breathing calm as his heartbeat was being drawn in real time by the green machine standing proudly next to him.

It has officially been ten months since Dream had been shot, both of them starting to lose hope on the man ever waking up.

Blue’s heart seemed to screech in his chest at the thought, hitting the cage of bones it was trapped in with as much force as possible. The latter tried to make the thought disappear by shaking his head, reminding himself that Dream hadn’t been planning to die and wouldn’t let himself be dragged into the underworld so easily.

Perhaps, it was a silly reason to believe he would open his eyes but who was going to judge him?

He began to lightly scratch at his arms, ignoring how it reopened some wounds in the process as he stared at Dream’s face with intensity, looking for any twitch, any change in expression.

There was none, Blue fought back the urge to bang his head against the wall.

As he was busy controlling his frustration and despair, Nightmare had moved closer to the bed and replaced a few strands of Dream’s hair that fell onto his face due to the open window from his side. His fingertips grazed at his forehead, his eyes narrowing.

He could hide it all he wanted, he really missed Dream and there was no changing that until he would wake up. “Don’t forget that you promised we wouldn’t ever leave each other.” He let out in a hushed tone, as if speaking to his friend only. He didn’t quite know what pushed him to mention such a vague memory of their younger selves pinky promising such a silly thing but it felt… right, comforting he might dare even say.

He didn’t know if Dream could hear him but as he always said, innocent until proven guilty. He would keep believing he could as long as nobody was able to present him with arguments that it was false.

He reluctantly brought his hand back to his body, letting the limb fall back on his sides. He glanced at the setting sun from the window, briefly admiring how its light faded into an orange hue before leaving for the impatient night. Already, the moon was showing its nose as a faded figure in the distance.

When he first got into the room, the sun had been looking down on the nation high up in the sky, had he been standing there all this time? If so, it was no wonder he felt so rooted to the ground. His gaze turned toward the clock on the wall.

“Visiting hours are almost over.” He remarked aloud, startling Blue. Once the words were processed, Blue looked up toward the clock as well and nodded, confirming what he just said.

“Time sure passes fast.” His eyes returned to gluing themselves on Dream’s figure. “I don’t want to leave.”

Nightmare sighed, dropping back onto the chair he had been sitting on for the past while. Unlike Blue, he decided to divert his gaze, knowing that if he were to look at him just a second more then he would be unable to leave. “I don’t want to either.”

Silence fell into the room.

Blue suddenly froze, letting out a surprised squeak that startled Nightmare so bad he flinched. The latter raised an eyebrow at him, Blue vaguely hearing him asking what was wrong.

However, he couldn’t get himself to look back at him, his widened eyes even more glued to Dream than they were before.

A twitch.

He saw his eyebrow twitch.

He held his breath, refusing to even blink as he analyzed every single one of his features in search for another anomaly, a sign to tell him he didn’t just hallucinate that and a proof that he wasn’t absolutely losing his mind.

Even Nightmare seemed freaked out by his silence, repeating his question slightly louder, wondering if he should call a nurse in.

Just as Blue was about to conclude he was in fact losing it for good, Dream’s whole face changed expression before a muted groan escaped him. That was definitely not a hallucination, Nightmare having reacted to the noise as well and breaking his vow not to look at him anymore.

“Dream?” Nightmare called with a higher pitch than his usual voice, sounding close to tears. And he was, if the burning at the side of his eyes were anything to go by.

Said one’s hand twitched at the name, his golden eyes appearing into view as his eyelids opened for the first time in ten mouths. His eyes were still half-lidded and his entire being showing how dazed he was but neither really cared about that, more focusing on the fact that he was finally awake.

“Hhh?” A noise left him as his gaze met Blue’s, then Nightmare’s. “What…?”

He blinked a few times before yelping as both of them almost launched themselves at him, however they did not have the opportunity to do much else as a nurse suddenly barged into the room, eyes icy as she told them visiting hours were over.

Dream looked as confused as ever as both men refused to go categorically. It went to the point where the nurse had to go get security to force the two out, much to their anger and dismay.

However, waiting until tomorrow to see Dream was in none of the two’s plans.

It just so happened that this decision ended up saving his life.

***

“I don’t suppose I should be surprised to see you here.” Nightmare rolled his eyes at Blue after the comment left his mouth, scoffing.

“Well duh, I haven’t seen Dream in ages. I'm not going to wait an entire night because a terrifyingly dense nurse didn’t want me to stay.” He crossed one of his arms around himself, letting his arm carrying his broken wrist rest on his side. “But why are you here? I didn’t take you for the type to break rules.”

It was Blue’s turn to cross his arms, glancing at the nearby areas to see if anybody was coming. The coast was clear, he hadn't seen any security guard for a while, which was weird. Where were they all? “For the same reason as you are.” He replied, staring up at the window behind which their reason to be here so late at night was most probably resting.

“But you do have a point, I usually do not like concentrating negative attention by breaking rules and the like.” He turned back to look at the lavender eyes that have been studying him in quiet judgment. “However, I’m not above trespassing some rules if I deem it necessary.”

“I see… Well, you’re free to come with me then.” Nightmare began to turn away, or well, that was until movement at the window was caught by the corner of his eyes. “What the hell?” He hissed, squinting into the darkness. “Who the hell is this? You can’t tell me that’s a doctor.”

Blue looked up to the window and spotted a person hunched over Dream’s bed. Nightmare was right, they did not look like a doctor in the slightest. First, they were lacking the usual coat people of this career usually wore. To make matters worse, the feeling of deja vu that Blue was experiencing couldn’t be a good sign.

Like Nightmare he squinted, trying to determine any relevant features that could help him recognize the person. Dark hair, green eyes, light spot near the eye? Oh, that was a scar.

Wait.

Blue froze, the colors draining from his face as his breath hitched.

Of course, he looked familiar, how could he forget the face of the one who got Dream in coma in the first place? He turned toward the other in panic…

“Nightmare, that’s–” … Only to find an empty spot where Nightmare’s silhouette used to loom over. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he looked up to the window once again, just in time to see the short man yanking the stalker back by the elbow.

***

The moment Nightmare spotted him, his entire being has been sending the alarms to get the adrenaline going. Even if he didn’t have any clue on who the fuck that person was, something at the back of his mind had warned him that whatever they were up to, couldn’t be a good thing.

Besides, he had just gotten his best friend back, he was going to lose him again because a fucker had decided that for one reason or another they needed to get rid of him for good.

When he had stepped into the room, he made sure to be as silent as possible to avoid scaring off that person before he could have a chance at making him talk. He was faced with their back.

As he walked closer, he could hear their voice muttering curses under their breath, seemingly blaming Dream for ‘ruining’ something. Nightmare briefly thanked whichever part of him decided to follow that gut feeling that this guy wasn’t up to anything good.

He gazed over at the bed and his eyes widened at the sight of a syringe.

Poison.

Unable to stay still anymore, Nightmare stepped even closer than before, grabbing their elbow with his intact hand and pulling them back. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” He yelled at them as he pushed them toward the window, their back colliding with the glass wall loudly. His scream and the noise startled Dream awake, the latter blinking in confusion as his gaze swept over the room.

Seeing that the target had been woken up, the unknown person sent a death glare at Nightmare, shouting that it was none of his business. Then they sprinted toward him, their hand curled into a fist as they tried to swing at the man.

Unluckily for them, Nightmare’s strength that only works once every decade decided to trigger itself, giving him the opportunity to dodge the punch… and shove them out of the open window.

The mysterious attacker’s eyes widened as they fell, the distance between them and the ground decreasing with every moment that passed. The wind howled around them, their mouth opening wide to let out the most chilling scream of terror that most would have heard in their lifetimes.

A loud thud was heard as their body crashed into the ground.

Nightmare’s own facial features were expressing his bewilderment and confusion, pupils locked onto the open window. Since when was it open?

He turned around, only to see Blue’s own shocked expression. Though, it quickly morphed into a nervous smile as he met Nightmare’s gaze. “Oops?” Ah, Blue must have climbed into the room by the window and was too focused on getting away from the fight scene to remember to close the window shut.

Well, it actually wasn’t that bad in his opinion. He was planning to throw that person out of the window once they were knocked out after all, he guessed that the inevitable just happened sooner than expected.

“W…What…” He froze. Ah shit, he completely forgot that Dream had woken up and had probably seen them fall. Unlike him, Dream was bound not to approve of that turn of events. He turned toward him with the most innocent face he could muster, lavender eyes locking onto trembling golden ones. “is goiNG ON?”

When, during one of his most violent outbursts, Papyrus had threatened to isolate Blue in a psych ward to show how much worse he could make him as he was struck down to the floor, Blue had no idea he would actually go through the idea.

So, when he found himself standing in front of a nurse in the hospital, telling him to strip, he could hardly believe he was not hallucinating.

The nurse, a woman in her thirties who looked old enough to be in her fifties instead, glared as Blue stayed motionless. “What are you waiting for? I don’t have all day and you're not the only patient I have to see so I would appreciate it if you were to hurry up.”

“Ah- Excuse me but is this really--” He was unbelievably uncomfortable but the nurse, instead of softening her features at the sight of a poor 16-year-old boy so distressed, only had her eyes narrowed even more.

“If you keep stalling, I’m going to have to do it myself.” She hissed, tapping her finger on the wooden tablet on her lap.

That finally prompted him into action, reluctantly taking off his shirt. After he was done removing his clothes, the woman got up from her seat, looking him up and down before he heard her count aloud.

Was she... was she counting his scars?

After she seemed satisfied, she handed him a shoebox, telling him to change into the gown he would find inside. She took his outdoor clothes from him, along with his scarf.

“Can I not keep my scarf at least? It’s quite important to me--” He asked before he was rudely shut down again.

“Unless you want to know in advance how our sedatives feel, you can’t.” She simply replied, walking toward a bunch of drawers. She opened one of them, throwing his belongings inside before locking them up. “You’ll get it back after you’re discharged, now get moving. As I said, I don’t have all day.”

That is how he found himself being led by two staff members; their faces expressionless. Similarly, to their colleague, they seemed unwilling to answer his questions or even look his way. It was almost like they had been tasked with walking a dog instead of a human being. Blue tried to stay positive, telling himself that these two at least were not actively threatening him.

He had a feeling it would not last long. Although, he decided to ignore the thought for the moment.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door leading to which he assumed would be his room. One of the psych techs handed him a binder labelled “Unit rules,” urging him to read it carefully. The other opened the door, explaining that he would be sharing his room with another patient who would be the one explaining how life worked in the facility.

He would have been fine with that if his roommate was not dangerous to him at least.

He stepped inside the room, checking his surroundings. The space they had was quite limited but sufficient for two people. The beds were each pushed against the opposite wall of each other, while what looked like a closet was placed against the wall facing the entrance, next to the window. A small desk filled the other corner of the room.

Each piece of furniture was either secured to the ground or the wall, leaving no place hidden for the staff. On his left, a door leading to what he assumed to be the bathroom stood there, slightly ajar.

Although, his attention was more attracted to the boy sitting on one of the beds, a nurse standing before him, holding his arm. Blond with some brown strands at the back of his head, dark blue eyes underlined by heavy eyebags, pale and young-looking, he looked... tired.

He was wearing a long-sleeved gown just like Blue himself was, but one of said sleeves was rolled up, revealing the poor state of his forearm. It was covered with both old and fresh cuts, some of which were even covered with concerning bruises. At the sight of the cuts, Blue involuntarily let out a gag, attracting the attention of both the nurse and the boy.

One of the psych techs narrowed his eye at him, telling him to better control himself. He nodded, not risking another look in fear of ending up throwing up. The nurse just rolled her eyes, pressing a syringe onto the patient, taking a little blood from him.

The boy was heard wincing, the grimace on his face easily guessable.

Blue waited until the nurse had left the room before risking a glance forward, the blond one waving in his direction with a small smile before he stood up to meet him. As he expected, he had rolled down his sleeves again, hiding the scars underneath the fabric.

“Hello!” He beamed. “You must be my new roommate, what’s your name?”

“You can call me Blue--” One of the psych techs cleared his throat before he had the chance to ask for the other’s name.

“He was asking for your real name, kid.” He sighed, looking away.

“My name is Lucian.” He has always hated that name, why did he have to be called that even here anyway?

Unexpectedly though, the other just smiled. “Hi Blue!” He glanced at the psych tech who only glared at him before taking his leave. “I’m Theodore, I’m glad to meet you!”

“As am I.”

“I’ve never seen you before, are you new here or did I just not notice you?” he asked, studying his face.

“I got here a few minutes ago.” He answered, grimacing as he recalled the behavior of that nurse. “The two others told me that you would explain how it was like here?”

Theodore raised an eyebrow, surprised. “They did?” He scoffed. “Actually, it doesn’t surprise me that they would make me do their work in their stead, oh well!”

“Did they give you the shoebox?” To answer him, Blue simply lifted the box in his hands. “Okay, perfect. You are in luck, we’re in our free period so nobody should bother us while we’re talking.”

Blue raised an eyebrow. “A free period?”

“They didn’t explain that to you either? Our life here is heavily monitored and rhythmed by a schedule we all follow.” He walked over to the desk, picking up a notebook Blue assumed was his. He flipped a few pages in front of Blue, ignoring most torn pages. He finally stopped on the last page that he showed Blue.

“In the morning, the staff takes your vitals which really means that they check your temperature, your blood, your bpm, and other stuff like that. After that is done, you’ll be led to the cafeteria to have breakfast--” Blue grimaced at the mention of the meal, already dreading it. “-- and you’ll follow up with an activity. It depends on the day but most of the time, you’ll be given free time.”

He nodded, showing he was following. “At noon, we’ll have lunch then free time, so what we are having right now, and then we’ll be sent to group activities.”

Blue tilted his head to the side in confusion, group activities?

Theodore smiled. “I had the exact same reaction as you when I was told that. Basically, we’ll be put in small groups with a psych tech who’ll make us read the unit rules and then talk about ourselves and stuff like that.”

“... That sounds extremely boring and uncomfortable.” Theodore nodded in agreement.

“You could not be righter. Did they tell you in which group you’ll be with today?” Blue shook his head, making Theodore frown again. Judging by the other’s reaction, it was clear that this was once again information he should have gotten but was not told of. He wondered just how many times this would happen today.

“I’ll just ask if you can join my group later then.” He scribbled something in his notebook along these lines with a... crayon?

Noticing his staring, the other laughed. “Yeah, they don’t let us use real pens because they’re worried about us trying to hurt ourselves with those.”

“I see...” That would also explain how thin these blankets look. Blue did hear something about the presence of ‘anti-suffocation’ blankets in wards. He never thought he would one day find himself using one of those.

“If the two thirds of the day are quite boring, nighttime is a bit more chill. We start off with dinner, then a shower--” He interrupted himself midway, looking around. Under Blue’s confused gaze, Theodore walked over to the door before closing it, motioning for him to come closer.

He did so as the other leaned in next to his ear.

“You’re honestly better off not washing your hair, the shampoo here is awful.” He whispered with the voice of someone who had learned that the hard way, before backing away again. “The bathroom is over there.” He pointed toward the door Blue had noticed upon his arrival, confirming his theory.

“There is no lock on the door since the staff is going to check up on you every once in a while, to make sure you’re not trying to drown yourself in there.” He added, making Blue’s heart drop.

“They... can enter at any moment?” He must have looked distraught as he said that, if the sympathetic look the other gave him was any indication of that.

“Pretty much yes, but there is nothing to worry about, there is a shower curtain, so you only need to pop your head out when they are there. Besides, I will always be right outside so if there is any problem, I will gladly throw hands.” He pat his shoulder, a dangerous look in his eyes. That look was kind of scary, but he supposed he didn’t mind it that much, considering he had said that to defend him.

“Right... You also spoke of the staff taking vitals in the morning I believe?” Theodore nodded. “Yet I just saw you get a sample of your blood taken and it is well past noon, why is that?”

Theodore smiled sheepishly, chuckling nervously. “It’s a bit hard to explain but let’s just say I’m a... ‘Special case.’”

Blue opened his mouth to ask him to elaborate, his interest piqued, but the other quickly changed the subject, this time gesturing toward the beds. “You probably noticed them before but those are ‘anti-suffocation’ blankets or, as I like to call them, ‘anti-warmth’ blankets.”

He made a grimace as he said it, grabbing one of said blankets and letting it fall to the bed again. “You can’t request for proper blankets, trust me, I’ve tried, but if it really is that bad some nurses do accept to give you painkillers to get through the night.”

Blue was not sure he quite liked the implication of the last phrase.

“During the day, you might be interrupted in your free time to talk to a therapist, a doctor, or any certified mental health professional. Most of the time, they ask you basic questions like ‘have you had thoughts of harming yourself or others the last 2 weeks?’ or to rate your emotions on a scale of 1 to 10. Though, since you are a newbie, they might ask you more personal questions.”

“You seemed to know your way around here quite well.” He remarked. “If I may ask, how long have you been here for?”

Theodore tapped his chin in thought. “... Which month are we again?”

“April.” He replied.

“Oh, then it must be my 4th month here since I’m still 14.” Oh, so Theodore was younger than him by two years.

“That... sounds like hell.” Theodore laughed, nodding in confirmation.

“Oh, it is, but there is not much I can do about it.” He walked past him to open the door. He gestured toward the hallway. “There is nothing left to see here, let me introduce you to the others and show you around!”

Blue gladly followed him. “What are you even here for?” Considering what he had seen earlier, he was quite certain severe self-harm was on the list, but he was quite curious to find out whether it was the only reason he was there.

The hall was mostly silent as they walked, which was quite surprising for Blue as he had more so expected to hear screams or at least a cry. Not that he was complaining though.

“You know, we’re not supposed to be talking about that kind of stuff.” He warned, eyeing a tech who was passing by. Then, quieter. “We always find a way to anyway but I’m mainly here for self-harm, sexual abuse and a bunch of lies.”

Blue nodded. “What about you?”

“Ah well...” He looked around, just like Theodore did previously, before sliding his thumb horizontally across his throat. He did not have to know the real reason for his internment here, it was probably fine if he lied for a bit.

“Ooooh, gotcha.” He gave him a thumbs-up before opening two large doors.

“We’re here!” Theordore announced as they stepped into the room. Unlike the hallway, this room boasted life; many patients were sat down, most playing cards. “This is the main area of the facility and one of the rooms you will spend the most time in apart from our room. During free time, we are mostly free to distract ourselves and during nighttime they typically bring us here to watch a movie together.”

Blue let his eyes travel around the room, focusing on studying the people reunited around the tables. “How would you describe the others?”

“Most of them are nice.” Theodore replied without much hesitation, following Blue’s gaze. “We are all pretty much in the same boat, fighting similar battles so you can say that we are pretty close to one another.” Blue nodded.

Since he had spent so long not able to interact with people, Blue never had many friends. He had a feeling this stay here was going to be a living hell, but maybe he could try to make a few friends?

He was about to ask another question before a girl, about their age, jumped on Theodore. “Theo!” She laughed, hugging him for a few seconds before letting go of the startled teen. “Nice to see you back, how was it?”

Theodore quickly regained his composure, shrugging at her question. “It was average, pretty much what always happened.”

She chuckled again, seemingly not having listened to a word he said. “Glad to hear that, anyway I gotta go, toodaloo!” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, much to Blue’s surprise, before running off again.

“...Who was that?”

“That was Ella, she’s probably in a manic episode again.” He calmly replied. “She won’t remember she did when she goes back to her depressive episode so you shouldn’t place too much importance on that.”

“Right.” After that, Theodore led him to a small group of people playing hanging man (here called standing man because it was ‘too inappropriate.’)

It was going to take him some time to adjust to this life but at least his roommate seemed to be nice. He could not ask for much anyway.

He hated it here.

Get him out of here.

***

Group activity had been even worse than Blue had imagined, but the fact literally every other patient and even the nurse looked like they hated this moment as much as he did, at least made it a little better.

But now he had to face an even more unpleasant event: dinner.

Just the thought of eating any food right now made him sicker than anything, his throat already going dry as Hacker led him to the cafeteria. He was not quite sure what he was supposed to expect from the facility, but he was positive that whatever it was they were planning was not going to enchant him one bit.

Not only that but he would have a tough time hiding from Theodore, one of the real reasons why he would be interned here. He liked to think that he was a good actor, but there was only so much one could hide.

He dreaded the pitiful look he was sure to be given once he found out.

He was fine. He did not need help.

He was in control of the situation.

He dragged his feet to the counter behind Theodore, the latter seeming oblivious to the raging tide taking place in his roommate’s head as they walked.

Just as it was about to be their turn, Blue caught a member of the staff looking in their direction before speedwalking toward them. He stopped in front of Theodore, who had to look up to meet the person’s eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as the other patients stopped their discussion, some even stepping a bit further away from the psych tech who just arrived. If Theodore looked neutral, Blue did not miss the subtle tremble in his shoulders as he spoke.

“You are Theodore Bradford, are you not?” He stared back at the boy, his gaze piercing.

He did not even wait for the other to confirm the assumption before he continued. “Follow me, we are going to have to take some more of your blood.”

Theodore frowned, glancing at Blue for a second, before he turned back to him. “Can it not wait for a few minutes? It’s di--”

He gave a pained cry as the taller man suddenly grabbed him by his wrist, the teenager’s other hand gripping the man’s arm as he desperately tried to get him off. As a response, the staff member only squeezed his arm harder, earning another muted cry.

From the way his eyes looked glassy, it did not take a genius to understand that it hurt like hell. Under the other’s hand, the fabric of the hospital gown he was wearing was slowly starting to taint red.

“I don’t have all day.” He simply replied as he began to walk away, dragging the young patient with him. Theodore glanced back as they walked back, meeting Blue’s staring.

The latter began to walk after them, about to call out to the staff member, only to see Theodore shake his head vigorously as a patient who was waiting in line behind him grabbed him by his shoulder, looking away from the scene.

Blue glanced at the sanitary workers behind the counter, who seemed to be pretending not to have seen anything, simply continuing to do their job. Why was no one doing anything to help?

The whole room seemed frozen in time as the duo walked to the exit, everyone coming back to life the instant the door clicked shut behind them.

Whoever that was, he was going to learn more about him since every patient seemed to be unusually scared of him. He wondered what kind of things he would be able to dig up about him. After all, he could not have this repeated.

And he quite hated not having his way.

The girl behind him finally released his shoulder, sighing. “You just dodged a bullet; you really don’t want to talk back to him of all people.”

“Why so?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“He’s the first ready to take you out if you misbehave.” She explained, her eyes turning toward the exit. “Poor Theo, we might not see him for the movies tonight.”

“So he is that bad then?” She nodded vigorously.

“Trust me, you don’t want to cross him. You are a newbie, right? Theo probably did not have the time to warn you against the psych techs you should be careful of, but this one is one of them.” She then paused. “Since he’s gone now, do you want to sit with us for the time being?”

He smiled sweetly, nodding. “That would be my pleasure.” There was something about this girl that seemed interesting to exploit, if she mostly stayed vague during their conversation, he was quite positive that she knew more about this psych tech than she let out.

Whatever she knew, he was quite determined to know too.

It was about time that he got it together, there was no other way he would get out of this place otherwise.

Seeing this other patient walk past him toward the ones serving the food finally made him muster enough courage to get up to the counter and ask for his portion too.

If he managed to get distracted thanks to the unexpected interruption of his conversation with Theodore, he now had nothing to distract him from the smell of food he could already sense as the employees studied his face. The sense of dread he had felt earlier just intensified as he caught sight of the plate he was being served.

His heart dropped as he realized an important detail.

The portion he was being served...

It was way more important than the others.

One look at another plate confirmed his dreadful assumption.

Even worse was the way the employees stared into his eyes as they let out one of the worst sentences he may have ever heard.

“You better eat everything there is on this plate, we will check whether you truly finished your meal or not at the end of dinner.”

He did not respond, grabbing what was being handed to him and walking away from the counter, joining a small group of people the girl he talked to was part of.

On his way, he was tempted to smash that cursed place on the ground, kicking whatever remained of this godforsaken food out of his sight.

Oh, how he wished he could throw its contents on those workers’ faces, see how they would like to finish it all.

He was gaining enough weight as is before he came in here, he did not need these demons to be ruining his progress with his body.

He was so close to being perfect.

Why did they have to ruin it all?

All these sleepless nights from hunger pains could not have been for nothing.

His pain was worth it, right?

But he shook his head, holding himself back from acting on the thought. While the action would bring him some sort of satisfaction for a moment, he knew this would only get him in trouble.

Considering how these psych techs treated the patients, he did not want to discover what they would do to him if he had the misfortune of letting his desires take the best of him.

He sat down, his plate suddenly attracting everyone’s attention. They shared knowing glances, confirming that the greater portion of food was intentional and directed at people suffering from anorexia like him.

As he had feared, a few of them gave him pitiful glances, just succeeding in pissing him off more. Why could they not leave him alone? He was fine, he was not sick.

He pretended not to notice as he picked up his fork, pushing a piece of ham toward some... rice? He thought it was rice at least. If they were going to get him all angry like that, they may as well try to be useful to him.

“Everyone seemed to know that man who dragged Theodore out.” He began, catching one of the patients froze, their fork raised mid-air. How lucky they were not to care about what they would look like after. “Who was he?”

Another boy sighed at the others’ hesitation before finally giving him useful intel. “That was the hospital’s director’s son.”

“Oh? Is that why he’s allowed to do all these... things?” He pushed on, avoiding the plate below him like the plague.

“It kind of helps when they are all the same.” He sneered, voice bitter. He would have pushed on to get more information but someone at the table suddenly spoke up.

“Dinner finishes in half an hour, they are soon going to pass the meal check.” She reminded the group, though it was obvious to anyone with a minimum of brain cells to figure out the reminder was more for Blue than anyone else.

Guess distraction time is over, huh?

He knew what he was supposed to be doing, but he could not help it.

He raised the fork to his face, the smell alone enough to almost get him to gag again. His hand trembled as he could not help but eye the piece of potato drenched in sauce.

How many calories did potatoes possess again?

What sauce did they use? Would it make him fatter?

Would they allow him to pour salt into his water?

The longer he stared at the food, the sicker he felt. The ache in his stomach just flared up again, almost begging him to take a bite.

He would not be able to look at himself in the mirror if he so much as touched the food, he knew it.

He was a bit happy about how floaty the gown was, it would at least hide his stomach if it really did end up screwing his form as he feared.

That did not mean the shower would not hurt though.

His beauty was one of the only things he could pride himself on, why did they have to rob him of it as well? Had he not lost enough as is?

A psych tech was walking toward him, so he worked up the courage to finally put the piece of food in his mouth.

The second he felt the warmth on his tongue, he felt the vague ache in his stomach turn absolutely unbearable. He slapped his hand over his mouth as he doubled over and gagged.

He shook as the tech came over, completely ignoring his sorry state as she simply stared at his plate.

“You did not finish your meal.” She flatly stated, noting something down. “How long is this going to take for you to do so?”

Blue looked at her as if she had lost her mind, wondering if she was blind or consciously ignoring the fact he was visibly trying to and struggling. “I can’t finish it.”

She looked at him up and down, before sighing. “It’s a pity we must use such methods to get people like you to listen.”

He was about to ask what she meant by that before she suddenly grabbed his fork from his own hand, picking up a piece of meat. She forced Blue’s jaw open despite his attempts to get her off him, forcefully shoving the food in his throat.

He choked, feeling tears form in the corner of his eyes as he tried to cough the food out. However, the woman’s grip on him was firm and she did not let him do as he pleased, staring coldly into his eyes.

“If you spit or vomit it out, you can be sure that you are going to regret it.” Blue was not even given a second to process the words before she shoved something mushy in his mouth again, causing yet another gag to escape him.

This time, the force of his repulsion managed to finally push the woman back as he fell on his hands and knees, throwing up whatever it was she forced into his throat.

She simply waited until he was finished before she grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back against his chair. She had another handful of food in her hand, her eyes cold and annoyed as she frowned at him.

“I’ve warned you.” She simply stated before she lifted her gaze away from him. “Security!” She called, making Blue flinch. “I have a patient going crazy over there!”

He tried to say something as he vaguely deciphered the sounds of hurried footsteps coming from behind him in his haze, before he was flipped onto his back, his wrists pinned together from behind.

The next moment, he felt pain.

“We’ll be having a mock trial next week.” Dream announced at the end of the class, gathering his papers. “The topic would be quite the difficult subject as it involves modern slavery.”

A few groaned at that. “What?! That is the most complex one! There are so many topics, of all of them, why this one?”

Finch, however, seemed to be glued to his words; hands curled into fists that rested on the desk as he stared into the teacher. He had been waiting for this, taking this kind of case was why he went for a law degree in the first place.

He noticed his fist shaking and he frowned at them, holding one with the other.

That is what he was here for, he could take it just fine.

Dream ignored the commotion created by the topic and continued. “I will send you all the details about the mock trial and the fake evidence that would be used during it. Only a handful of you would be able to participate and I trust that you will settle this matter among yourselves.”

Then, he glanced at Finch with a hint of worry. “Also, you are totally entitled to choose not to participate if you feel strongly about the topic.”

He turned back toward the rest of the class, the student pretending not to have noticed the staring. “If you have any questions, you are free to ask me while I’m still here, we have quite some time before the bell rings.”

Used to Finch always bombarding the professor with questions, the other students crossed their arms, waiting for Dream’s usual ‘Yes, Finch?’

However, it never came.

“Very well, you are free to leave then.” Dream dismissed them, a handful of people turning a wide-eyed face toward Finch, who did his best to ignore the stares.

It was fine, perfectly fine.

***

Finch was just on his way to get lunch when he suddenly overheard a conversation between other students. “Professor Von Licht’s comment was definitely directed at Finch.” One of them stated with disdain, causing Finch to freeze.

“Well, duh!” The other one replied, rolling their eyes. “He was definitely looking at him when he said that. Cannot see the point by the way, it is just a mock trial, it’s no big deal. Does he think he is some sort of baby or something?”

“I think it is more because Professor von Licht so obviously favors Finch. I mean seriously, he might as well be his secret child or some shit at this point!” Said one stood around the corner, hidden as he held onto his wallet a bit tighter.

“Yeah, he is definitely showing bias toward him. Hey, do you think that is why he has such good grades?”

“Now that you say it, yes! I knew that no one could get those without cheating in some type of way.” Finch was so busy listening to their conversation that he did not even notice a figure walking past him straight toward the group.

“Could you guys shut the fuck up?” A wild Ink butted in, looking annoyed. “I was trying to enjoy my lunch. Besides, I don’t think you should be talking shit about people behind their back, that’s a coward move.”

One of the students narrowed their eyes on him. “It’s none of your business. Who are you anyway?”

“You guys are talking louder than a wailing toddler so yes; it is my business. If you didn’t want anyone to butt in, then maybe you should have considered lowering your voice.” Ink rolled his eyes, one of his fists resting on his hip. “As for who I am, someone better, obviously.”

The man of the group raised his voice. “Why you--”

Before one of his companions grabbed his arm, hissing. “Stop it, Nathaniel.” She glanced back at the shorter one. “It’s Ink.”

Realization seemed to creep up and he finally gritted his teeth, letting out an aggressive ‘whatever!’ before his group walked away.

Finch flinched as the older man snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Oh uh, yes? Do you need anything?”

“Are you that Finch guy they were talking about?” He asked, crossing his arms around his chest, a sketchbook tucked under his elbow.

“I am.” He confirmed, looking down, slightly awkward.

“Next time you hear them talking shit, you should punt them in the face. Would save me the effort of shutting them up myself.” Was all he said before he walked away, not leaving Finch the time to respond.

Well, that was... an interesting encounter.

***

Today was the day.

Finch walked to the establishment as he usually would, additional bags under his eyes. He was not one with healthy sleeping habits to begin with but the anxiety excitement of seeing the sun rise today was just one additional factor as to why he had to ignore sleep.

After some convincing with his classmates, he managed to get the role of the plaintiff, the role he would hopefully be playing in the future when he graduated.

The only difference is that this time, there would be real victims counting on him to get them out of here.

He shook his head to get the thought out of his head before stepping into the auditorium.

Since it was quite early, Finch was not surprised to see that no one had arrived yet. After all, he did always make a point to be in class at least twenty minutes before the actual class started while the others would be busy trying to avoid looking at the clock.

He could not really blame them though, some of them looked like they were forced to be here.

Normally, the empty room would have given him peace of mind, the calm atmosphere working wonders on his soul. But today, it seemed like it was doing the opposite.

He tapped his finger onto the bar stool, hoping to distract himself from his tight chest with the noise. Seeing that it did little to relieve him, he opened his bag and took out the files that the professor had sent them all about the trial they would be playing for.

He swept his gaze over the details for the millionth time, muttering the information under his breath before they could be taken in by his irises. He had already memorized the whole case.

That meant he was prepared for it academically.

Finch just hoped that his mental state would follow that example.

“Well damn, you really are a mini Teach.” A voice interrupted his train of thoughts, jolting him away from his daydreaming. He looked around him, but the room was as empty as he had noticed before.

He frowned. “Who is there?”

“Look up, loser.” Looking up he did, and Finch almost choked on air as he recognized the man from before hanging by his legs from the lights.

“What the—How did you even--” Finch stumbled on his words before he shook his head, gaining back his composure. “You should get down from there, you might fall.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes before he jumped down, somehow making a perfect landing. He crossed his arms behind his head before he started walking away.

Again, Finch ended up all alone with this time even more questions than before.

Ha vaguely wondered if he should be used to this.

***

Before long, the bell rang, and students came flooding into the auditoriums. Most simply ignored Finch being there early, which had been the norm, before they all sat down in their usual seats.

It did not take long for most of them to notice the special arrangements in the middle of the room.

“Greetings everyone.” Dream walked into the room, causing most of the student body to stand up. The teacher smiled before quietly motioning for them to sit down. The first ten minutes of the class were spent like a regular one before Dream finally decided to start the mock trial.

“Have you all chosen the participants?” At the affirmative response he got, he walked toward what could be assumed to be the judge’s seat, sitting down on the chair.

“Can the plaintiff, the defendant and the jury take their seats then?” A few students stood up and walked over to the miniature courtroom, sitting down. Dream’s eyes held a glint of concern as he noticed Finch taking a seat, but it quickly disappeared to his usual stoic expression.

“We may begin then.” A religious silence swept over the room. Dream turned toward the student playing the baliff at his side, who nodded before turning toward the audience.

“Please rise.” The players stood up as requested. “The Court of the Second Judicial Circuit, Criminal Division, is now in session, the Honorable Judge Dream presiding.”

Dream smiled encouragingly.

“Do you solemnly, sincerely, and truly affirm and declare that you will conscientiously try the charges against the Defendant, and you will decide them according to the evidence. You will also not disclose anything about the Jury's deliberation other than as required by law.”

***

He should have been ready.

He should have been.

His hands were trembling on the table as they had entered the cross-examination stage of the trial.

“He said he would hit me if I didn’t cooperate.” His classmate stated before they suddenly began to blur, their figure overlapping with one much shorter than they were.

‘She’ looked over to a younger Dream, who was sitting across from ‘her’ in panic as ‘she’ desperately fought off the urge to cry. He gave ‘her’ an encouraging smile. ‘She’ took a deep breath, imagining ‘she’ was just speaking to Dream and counting ‘her’ story.

“So, I listened...” ‘Her’ voice shook but ‘she’ tried not to let it get to ‘her, gulping down before starting again. “But after I completed the task, he got mad at me and--”

‘She’ was starting to feel ‘herself’ back into that horrendous room, ‘she’ never wanted to go back there ever again. “And he took my eye-”

A desk slam made ‘her’ flinch as ‘she’ looked up toward the noise. ‘Her’ eyes widened as ‘she’ met the furious gaze of the man ‘she’ feared the most.

“You ungrateful brat!” He screamed, ‘her’ ears ringing. “You would have been on the streets if it weren’t for me!” He leaped toward ‘her’ earning a terrified scream from the child. The officers who have been stationed there jumped into action, their hands in the air as they tried to reason with the furious man.

Meanwhile, the baliff called order to the court on top of the chaos, Dream having rushed to Finch’s side to calm ‘her’ down.

“Hey Finch, why did you not object there? That was totally a hearsay!” The person next to him exclaimed, looking annoyed. At the lack of a response from the other, they turned around, only to notice his violent shaking and irregular breaths. “Uh Finch? Are you all right, dude?”

Dream took notice of that, and his eyes hardened as he stood up from the judge’s seat. “Everyone, please stay in your seat. I will be right back.” He walked over to Finch and led him away under the questioning looks of his classmates.

‘She’ sniffled as ‘she’ held onto Dream’s hand for dear life, wiping at ‘her’ tears as the noise gradually subsided. While he might have been out of view and reach now, ‘she’ could still hear him threatening to kill ‘her’ in ‘her’ head.

‘Her’ missing eye felt like it was burning.

‘Her’ breath sped up as ‘her’ sobs got louder, ‘her’ ears ringing again with the sound of ‘her’ own screams destroying ‘her’ earbuds as ‘she’ remembered getting pinned to the ground, a figure growling as sharp pain made itself known through ‘her ‘eye.

‘She’ was going to die here.

“...ch!”

‘She’ could feel the darkness staring into ‘her’, ready to swallow ‘her’ whole and leave nothing behind.

“...Inch!”

It hurt, it hurt so--

“Finch!”

He jolted awake, vision blurry and breathing haggard. Meeting Dream’s concerned eyes, he tried to say something only for his voice to be caught in his throat, choking as he felt his head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

“Finch, I need you to copy what I’m doing, alright?” Finch nodded to show he was paying attention and Dream began to inhale exaggeratingly before holding his breath. Dream kept going for a while, waiting for Finch to follow his lead.

It was tough at the beginning, but he eventually calmed down enough to breathe properly, sniffing ever so slightly. The older one handed him a tissue and he gladly accepted it, wiping at the tears he had not noticed had the time to fall.

He sucked in a deep breath before he lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” He choked out after a few tries, almost getting sent right back to bawling town.

Dream frowned. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’ve ruined the trial.” He said, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry sir, I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Dream shook his head before he cupped Finch’s cheek and made him look toward him. “The only person you need to apologize to is yourself for not respecting your own boundaries.”

He opened his mouth to protest. “But-”

“I know that helping others out of forced labor is your final goal.” Dream declared, cutting him off. “It is quite a noble one and I do encourage you to pursue it. However, there is no way you can help anyone lost at sea when you are drowning yourself.”

Finch stayed silent at that before he looked down again. “Am I... ever going to ready to do this?” Uncertainty was laced in his voice.

“Yes.” Dream responded with confidence. “You will, but first you’re going to need to help yourself first.”

“Are you sure? I mean today was a disa--” Dream held up one of his hands and he cut himself off again.

“We have hundreds of students in the same class, and you still have a few years before you finish your studies.” He stood up, extending a hand to help Finch up too. He did not even notice they were sitting in the first place. “There would be other mock trials, and there would be plenty more opportunities for you to practice.”

Finch took his hand and stood up as well.

“But you can only take advantage of said opportunities if you are healed enough to. I might sound like a hypocrite, but health must be your priority and that includes mental health as well.” Finch nodded.

“I understand.” Dream smiled in response.

“Very well, in that case, let us go back. I would also have to ask you to step down from this mock trial for now and let someone else do it.”

Finch wanted to protest but it was for the best, so he nodded anyway.

“I’m sorry...” ‘She’ sobbed against Dream’s chest, clutching onto the front of his shirt. The latter petted ‘her’ head as ‘she’ buried ‘herself’ in his embrace.