#one small difference

This mirror didn’t belong here. He knows that much. It was easy to tell. It was a nice mirror, with engraved details along the top and sides. It looks new. But he knows none of the others had bought a mirror, and if they had, they wouldn’t immediately put it down here to get ruined. No, this mirror was not brought here by anyone in the castle. But if it wasn’t, how did it get here? Who brought it? Surely it didn’t just…appear all on its own. That was impossible.

Dream steps closer, peering at his reflection. It seems like a normal mirror. Nothing special to it, just odd that it was here instead of upstairs. Maybe he should go and get Crossy and Kiki and they could check it out with him. Maybe they knew where it came from. If not, maybe Nighty would. If not…then it was a mystery. And everyone loves a mystery now and then, right? It would be cool to try and solve this one.

He reaches out to touch it.

Something scurries over his foot, spooking him, making him yelp, and he falls forward, his other hand flying forward, hoping to catch himself on the mirror.

Only, his hand goes through the mirror and he tumbles onto the floor.

Dream lay there for a moment. “Ow…”

He feels more winded from the fact that he just fell through a mirror than he did from falling on the floor. You’re not supposed to go through mirrors. That’s not what mirrors are for. They’re not doors. Why was it, then, that he just did the impossible? Was he magic? Well, yes, he was, technically, but was he fairy-tale magic? Did his dream finally come true?

Picking himself up, he wipes off his pants. He blinks at the room. Everything seems off. Wasn’t that shelf on the opposite wall when he walked in? And that box, wasn’t it over there? And that one over here? “That’s odd.” He stands there. Why is everything backward? “Um…” Turning, he stares at the spot where the mirror should be. It’s empty. “Well, that can’t be good.”

Where did the mirror go? Mirrors don’t just walk away. Where did it go?

Thoroughly unsettled and a bit frightened, he backs up. “I should head back. Nighty’s probably worried.”

In the hallway, everything’s backward too. Frowning, he tries to go in the direction he thinks the stairs will be. If everything’s backward, they’ll be on the opposite side. But he pauses a few steps in. He looks back distracted.

There’s negativity in the air. And it’s not coming from Nighty or any of the others.

It’s someone else.

But the only rooms down here are storage rooms and cells. Nobody else is here. Unless…someone was? But why would Nighty capture someone?

The negativity is steady. It tugs at him, almost pulling him toward where it's coming from. Should he let it? But Crossy and Kiki and Nighty…he should get back to them. He should tell them what just happened. They’ll know better. They usually do. And they’ll get more worried the longer he doesn’t return.

But this negativity…it feels familiar, somehow, for someone he doesn’t know. He’s the guardian of positivity. Shouldn’t he help this person? Or try to? He can always go back and get the others. Always. It won’t take too long to go and check.

Glancing back, he slowly turns, heading down the hall. “Just a quick check, Dream,” he says to himself, saying it over and over again in his head to make sure it sticks.

Following the negativity, he goes further into the dungeons, passing empty cells. It’s dark and cold down here. It makes him shiver just a bit. He pulls his cape around him. Getting closer, he slows down, coming to a stop in front of what he expects to be another empty cell.

It’s not.

The person inside flinches as he gasps. They look up, and their eyes widen. Their mouth opens a bit. Their negativity doesn’t leave, but it does fade, replaced with confusion and surprise.

But it’s none of this that made him gasp. It’s not what he expected, yes, and it is surprising, but he’s more so concerned with the person and what they’re wearing than anything. Their clothes are ripped and dirty, yellow vest stained with blood. They seem to be chained up, too, arms spread across the wall. They shift and the chains clank against the wall, but they don’t seem to notice, their focus all on him.

And Dream’s focus is on the crown they wear.

The golden crown that was, if he was seeing things correctly, given to them as a gift from their brother, way back before the villagers really settled down.

The golden crown that looks exactly like his.

Eyes wide, Dream looks at Future Him.

How was he here? This shouldn’t be possible. One of them should be gone if the other is here. What’s going on? And were those bandages? Was Future Him injured? Why? How? Nighty would never allow him to be injured. And this looks like a bad injury. Maybe Nighty couldn’t stop in time, or wasn’t around? But then surely Future Him wouldn’t be in a cell if Nighty knew he was injured and needed to heal.

Then…Nighty must be gone. Or they must be captured. Or something like that. Nighty was probably on his way here to rescue them. Yeah. Then it was a good thing Dream was here. He can help Future Him escape before Nighty finds them, making it easier to get out of there. Then they can get home and deal with this situation without any trouble.

“Woah.” Dream breathes, stepping closer. “You look awful.” He grabs one of the bars. “Are you okay? Do you need help? Don’t worry, I can help. We’re in the dungeons, right? The keys should be around here somewhere. I’ll find them. Stay here.”

Without giving Future Him time to say anything back, he moves down the hall in search of the keys. Humming to himself as quietly as he can to make his own soundtrack for this important mission, he peeks around the corner and finds another hallway of cells. But at the end of that one, when he peeks around this corner, he finds Crossy asleep in a chair. His arms are across his chest, head hanging. He seems to be sound asleep. But still, Dream tip toes as he comes closer.

For a moment, he’s confused. How is Crossy here when they were just playing hide and seek together? He couldn’t have gotten here that fast. It’s just impossible. And he’s asleep, too. That’s even more impossible. He would’ve had to be gone for hours for this to happen. Was he? No, no. He can’t have been. Something else was going on here.

Something really, really weird and wrong.

Looking around, he doesn’t see any keys. But remembering stories where the characters found keys on the guards and used them to escape, he eyes Crossy again. He feels guilty for having to do it, but it’s better he tries than gives up. And if the keys aren’t there, he’ll just have to keep searching.

He rummages through Crossy’s pockets and much to his surprise and delight, finds a ring of keys. He takes them out as silently as he can, barely keeping from saying anything in celebration. Somehow, he succeeds.

Smiling to himself, he rushes back. He’s a little out of breath by the time he arrives.

“I’m back!” Dream says, making Future Him look up in surprise. That’s a little hurtful. Of course he would come back! Why would Future Him think otherwise? “Let’s see…not that one…no, no—here!” The cell clicks and he slips inside, barely holding in a cheer—that would definitely wake Crossy up. He stands by Future Him, eyeing the chains. “Um, I don’t know if the key to the chains will be on this ring. There were two there. We’ll just have to try them all and see.”

Luckily, it was on there, and the chains around Future Him’s wrists click open. Dream quickly does the same with the ankles. Stepping back, he waits. Future Him doesn’t move. Concerned, he shifts in place, unsure what to do. Should he…help? But what would he be helping with? Before he needs to decide, though, Future Him’s legs buckle and he crashes to his knees, catching himself with his arm before he can fall on his face.

Yelping, Dream crouches beside him, hands hovering. What should he do? What should he do? Future Him blinks, slowly, and stares at him. His eyes are wide. Disbelieving. Slowly, he reaches up a hand—which is shaking, by the way, they should really find out how to stop that, it can’t be healthy—and rests it on Dream’s cheek.

Blinking, he lets Future Him do what he wants. Maybe it’ll make him feel better.

The other hand joins, resting on his other cheek, and Future Him’s expression breaks into one he can’t pin down. Swallowing, he speaks, voice raspy, as if he’s used it too long, or maybe not enough. “You’re…real?”

Dream blinks again, concern increasing. “Yeah.” Tilting his head, he frowns. “Did you think I wasn’t?”

Future Him doesn’t respond, still staring. Though his hands do drop, clasping together in his lap.

“Um.” Dream sits, crossing his legs like how he’s been taught. In any other situation, he might be getting a story read to him by one of Nighty’s boys. “So…what happened?”

Future Him looks confused. “What do you mean?”

Isn’t it obvious? Dream gestures around the cell. “Why were you chained up? How did you get here? How are you here in the first place? Because I’m here and you’re here and I’m pretty sure we’re the same person and I’m also pretty sure we’re not supposed to exist together.” Or at least, that’s what the movies always said. “And who wounded you? Why?”

The last question makes something in Future Him shudder, face darkening. Then, he shakes his head, a faint smile taking over. “I feel as though I should be asking you the questions.” Future Him turns his head, coughing into his shoulder. “Why are you here? How did you get here?”

“Well…” Dream says, “I was playing hide and seek with Crossy and Kiki. The bedrooms were off limits, of course, but they didn’t say the basement was off limits, so I decided to hide in one of the storage rooms—the ones past the dungeons, that way.” He points, knowing Future Him would get the idea.

Leaning back, he thinks, at the point where he’s not sure of the details. “And then I saw a mirror, which was odd because everything else was dusty and the mirror wasn’t. I tried to touch it because it must be magical if it wasn’t dusty like everything else. Only my hand went through the glass, which was weird, and then something—I think it was a rat—ran over my foot and I fell. When I got up, the whole room was, like, swapped around. If that makes sense? And when I looked back, the mirror was gone.” He is quiet for a moment as he remembers. Then he brightens. “And then I found you.”

Future Him’s brow furrows. He seems to be struggling to keep up. Dream doesn’t blame him. It does sound a little weird said out loud. “…Crossy and Kiki?” he says after some time, saying the names slowly. “Do you mean…Cross and Killer?”

Dream nods, happy that Future Him recognized them. “Yeah. Who else? There’s also Dusty, who was busy experimenting in his room, and Rory, who went out with Nighty for groceries—and you already know who Nighty is.” As he lists them, he gets to his feet in excitement. “Oh! There’s also Roro, but he’s not around as often as the others.”

“I…see.”

Seeing that Future Him was still worried, Dream smiles, trying to reassure him. “They take really good care of me, don’t worry.”

Future Him just looks at him for a moment before looking away, rubbing his wrists again.

If Dream thought he looked horrible from outside the cell, he’s even worse close up. Bandages wrap around him everywhere, even covering one of his eyes. His brow is still furrowed, heavy lines etched on his face. He seems to be lost somewhere, no longer in the present. Does he need help getting back? He’s not sure if he’ll be able to help. Future Him doesn’t seem to be in much harm, though, so it’s probably fine.

But his one eyelight is dim, and he seems to be weighed down by something. He looks exhausted. He looks sick, actually, with a faint seen of sweat on his forehead. They should really get back upstairs and get him to a bed. Of course, they might run into the others, but maybe they can get lucky and avoid them until Future Him is asleep and he’s sneaking out of the room to go and inform the others of what happened.

From the far end of the hall, a door thuds shut.

Dream freezes in place, feeling much like he’s about to be in trouble. But then he recognizes the aura that seems to be walking toward them. He relaxes. It’s just Nighty. That’s good. He might be worried he was away for so long and scold him for being down here without permission, but once he sees Future Him, they’ll have bigger things to worry about.

That’s if it even is his Nighty. He realizes it might not be. This might not even be his world—he remembers watching a few movies where the main characters went to an alternate world with different versions of themselves or their friends. This could be the same thing. Would answer a few questions. But that shouldn’t matter. It’s Nighty. It’s still his brother. He’s still the same person. Nighty will want to help, of course, because no matter his version or another one, Nighty is a big worrywart and Future Him needs someone to worry over him.

His brother is the perfect person for the job.

Beaming, he steps forward, already calling out “Nighty!” when he gets pulled from behind and tugged close to Future Him’s chest.

Blinking, it takes him a moment to catch up. He tries to wiggle out of his hold, but Future Him is apparently really strong and doesn’t budge an inch, tightening his grip and pulling him even closer. He’s facing his chest, nothing but his shirt and bandages in his vision, which is terrible because Nighty will need someone to explain to him what’s going on and Future Him is in no state to do that and he can’t explain tucked away like this.

Physically moving doesn’t seem to be getting him anywhere, so he tries to talk to Future Him. “Um, future me?” he says, turning his head. “It’s okay, it’s just Nighty—”

Above him, Future Him shushes him, repeating the motion more times than is necessary. “Just stay quiet.”

“But it’s Nighty.”

“Nightmare.” Future Him says, though it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than anything. Shuffling, he slowly moves back into a corner, bringing Dream with him. “You mean Nightmare.”

Dream frowns. What’s the difference? “I think I mean Nighty.”

“Just—” Voice breaking, Future Him seems to stop breathing for a moment, before remembering he has to breathe to stay alive. His breathing gets all funny, coming out fast and short. “Just trust me, okay? Stay silent, stay hidden.”

“But why?” He feels bad for whining like this, but what else can he do? This isn’t how it was supposed to go. They shouldn’t be hiding like something’s coming to get them.

It’s just Nighty.

Future Him still seems to be talking to himself, distant answers as he watches the door like it might spring to life and attack them. “He won’t be able to hurt you like this.”

“Why would he hurt me? It’s Nighty…” Dream gives one last struggle, Future Him’s arms tightening around him even more—honestly, how tight can he go? It feels unnatural. Safe, yes, very, but uncomfortable.

Glaring at the bandages in front of him, he huffs. He is so confused. And concerned. Who wouldn’t be? This was nothing like how his Nighty explained things. Nothing at all. Future Him wasn’t supposed to be injured and chained up. Future Him wasn’t supposed to be hiding him from their brother. Even with all of these pieces in front of him, this puzzle was so difficult to put together. He hated it. He wanted to go home. His home, not this weird backward place where Future Him was behind a cell and their brother seemed to have something to do with that.

It…was their brother, right? What is he even saying, of course it is! Future Him was just…he doesn’t know. Mistaken, maybe. Yeah. Mistaken. But Nighty would never imprison him, he knows Nighty, he would never do that. Maybe he was reading things wrong. Maybe Nighty didn’t do all of this, maybe he was here to rescue them! That would make more sense. That would be more like Nighty.

But if that was true… then why was Future Him acting like this? Why was his breath hitching, why was there the slightest tremor in his arms? Why was he hiding Dream? What was going on here?

As Nighty’s aura enclosed on them, the comforting feeling of safety and reassurance and everything his brother was, he leans forward, focusing. It’s easier to do this in such a close proximity. He focuses on Future Him and gently reaches out, trying to feel for his emotions and soul. It’s harder to hide that way. Maybe he can get some answers, at least something to go off of.

Immediately, he regrets it.

And surrounding both is a vicious mix of heartbreak and betrayal.

Bitterness pools in his mouth and he gasps in surprise. From Future Him, the emotions crowd around him, blocking out Nighty’s aura entirely. They’re rapidly switching, hovering in the air, going back and forth and back and forth between desperation, need to protect him, can’t let him be seen, need to protect him, and fear, why is he here, why is he here, it hasn’t been that long, please go away, I can’t handle any more pain.

…what? What?

That’s not right. This can’t be right.