#everyone say thank you tumblr user babyblankerror

[hellsquills]

Dragon!Stan be upon ye

A short thing for @babyblankyerror 's Dragon!Stan AU. Please go check their art because it's infesting my brain /pos

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"Hello?"

Ford's voice echoes through the cavern. He hears some small steps in return that turn louder and heavier as they approach, until he sees the familiar –and gigantic– face of his dragon friend. Despite the tightness in his heart, his face relaxes a little as he greets him.

"Good night, my friend. Sorry for disturbing your dreams."

It's way later than he usually visits the creature. These past weeks, Stanford left his house around 5pm and arrived at the cave at 6, trying his best to be punctual, even though time probably means nothing to this dragon. Having this little ritual amongst his otherwise chaotic schedule helps him. Today is already dark out, not pitch-black, but enough to make the path slightly dangerous.

The beast approaches slowly, looking somewhat sleepy, and lowers its head so Stanford can pet it. It is then, as they are eye-to-eye, that the dragon stops and tilts its head.

"What? What is it?"

The creature moves its head forward, brushing its snout against the man's cheek. Ford is taken aback, shocked by the delicate and understanding move.

"This? Those are just tears, don't worry about it."

The dragon huffs like an exasperated child, as if implying that it doesn't believe a word he's saying. Stanford sighs.

"I guess I can't fool you, huh?" Another huff. "I suppose that you're even smarter than I assumed. Which, rest assured, was already a lot."

The beast turns around and lies down in the middle of the cave, much closer to the entrance than it previously was before Ford arrived. The man walks to it, accepting its silent invitation. He lies down next to its chest, which is soft and warm with all the fur covering it. He nestles against it, making a spot for himself, just like many other times before.

"I... haven't had the best of days, I'm afraid."

The dragon's head is now resting on the floor beside him, its right eye looking straight through him. As uncomfortable as he is around people staring at him, this barely bothers him. The dragon's eyes are kind, attentive, so different from all the others he's used to have on him. Something in those colors fills him with a sense of safety that helps him breathe easier. It also helps with pulling out the words from his throat.

"I had... an argument with my Muse. Which wasn't his fault, really! It was all mine. I didn't... expect him to be this angry, though." The sentence ends just as quiet as it starts. "I simply mentioned that I needed some rest during the night, that I couldn't properly carry on with my research unless I got a full night's rest, but he didn't like it. He said I was being selfish." Ford's words are slow, as if working out a way to properly covey what he means. "I understand where he's coming from, I really do. He just wants to escape his dimension– the Nightmare Dimension, he calls it. Obviously the name is already enough of a hint, but above all... I know he wanted to escape before that. No one understood him back there. I know what that's like. To be in a place where you're not welcome, nor wanted, nor understood. I really do."

The dragon doesn't move, just blinks lazily. Ford continues.

"I just asked him for a full night without him entering my mindscape and using my body to work while I slept. He says any human should be able to withstand it, so maybe I'm just weaker than average, which I already knew, but regardless. I needed some time to rest not only my body, but my mind as well. He... didn't like it. We argued, I tried to explain it to him in a way he could understand, but he was so mad... I ended up relenting, but he said it was too late. Now he couldn't forgive me. He said that... if I really wanted him gone that much, then he'd leave. And he... he did."

Ford's voice faults as he utters those last words. Nonetheless, he keeps talking.

"I didn't mean to upset him, I swear I didn't. I just wanted some time to improve myself before I kept working on the portal, but... Moses, what have I done? What if he doesn't forgive me? What if he never comes back?" His shaky voice now warns new tears. "I guess that's what I deserve for failing to keep my promise. I told him I'd do anything in my power to help him, since he's spent his entire time in this dimension helping me discover the universe. And what do I give in return? Just utter weakness."

"I don't deserve him. I don't deserve the people that cared enough to get close to me. Not Bill, not Fiddleford, not..."

The sentence cuts early, leaving things unsaid.

"What am I going to do now? I have no one else, I'm alone. I..." A shaky breath, way too close to a sob for comfort. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

The dragon is quick to react, as if it had been waiting for him to finish. Carefully, it lifts its head and puts it on Ford's lap. Noticing the man's quick heartbeat, it moves it up, until it's resting on Ford's chest. They both lay there, Stanford feeling lightheaded from his sudden panic attack and the accumulated anxiety. However, the slight but grounding pressure against his chest is comfortable, calming, and it helps him breathe despite the weight directly on top of his lungs. His hands absentmindedly envelop the creature's head, hugging it lightly at first and then tighter when he's sure the other being is comfortable with the action. Through the warmth, he can feel another sensation: the dragon appears to be... purring? Not exactly, but something akin. It's definitely vibrating softly as it breathes slowly in what seems a calculated rhythm, although that would be impossible for the creature to understand.

A memory hits Stanford as he keeps his eyes closed: the same weight on top of his torso after a panic attack. The familiar sensation of those soft vibrations against his chest, much less like an animal and much more like quiet snoring. A slow, even breathing rhythm in contrast to his agitated one.

His brother, having yet again braved his fear of heights to lay on him when he had a paralyzing nightmare. A head full of curls as unruly as the boy they belonged to beneath his fingers, now replaced by hard scales.

"Lee..." Stanford cries, not even processing his own words. He repeats it once, twice, thrice, as the sobs grow too loud to continue. The creature above him shakes slightly before returning to its previous position.

Both beings stay still in silence, save by Ford repeating several variations of his brother's name, as well as the occasional "help", "I can't", and "I'm sorry". This last one is the quietest, as if the man had a split second of clarity and realized he did not want to say it any louder.

Eventually, exhausted by the rush of emotions, Stanford falls asleep. His cheeks are damp and his face is red, but he seems more peaceful as he evens his breathing, holding the dragon's head more delicately now.

Somewhere inside the creature's head, Stan is filled with a rage that burns hotter than the flames that sometimes escape his throat. As much as he'd like to shape-shift into his humanoid form, he can't. Not until whoever that Bill thing is is shattered into a million pieces by his own hand.