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[mythboundmuses-archive]

@nightmarecountry sent:

The thing that settles down next to him on the park bench barely seems to notice as the pigeons Morpheus has been feeding suddenly take flight. When they come back, lured by the promise of bread, they seem warier and more skittish than before.

"Ah, there you are. Thanks for inviting me," says the Corinthian, all smiles. It keeps its distance, almost on the other end of the bench where it leans back against it--but somehow, no amount of physical distance seems to matter. It still feels as if it is right by Morpheus' shoulder, talking in smooth tones in his ear, for all that that isn't what's happening. "You get better sleep last night?"

Morpheus knows that there's things he doesn't know. There's a gaping chasm where memories of his life ought to be, and his mind only supplies him with vague snippets while he sleeps - and it's difficult to tell what is dream and what was once real. What he doesn't realise is that both are sometimes true: dream and real. It's equal parts confusing and overwhelming, and so he is burying his head in the sand. What's important is that he remembers Miecz, and he knows that he will be safe for as long as he is staying with him. Everything else will come later, or not at all. What's arguable more important is that he doesn't remember the Corinthian, that he's dangerous, a nightmare, that trying to uncreate him is part of what led Dream here. The vague notion of dangerous drifts through Dream's mind when he looks at the man at the other end of the bench, but when he tries to grasp it, it turns to sand between his fingers and disappears. He offers a tentative smile which slips when he realises that the birds have disappeared. All but one lone raven, who hops closer with its head to one side. When Dream throws it a little chunk of bread, he is almost sure he hears an exasperated sigh, then it flutters its wings and disappears. It's a shame; he likes feeding the birds. "No," he replies. He feels compelled to put some distance between himself and his companion - but they're at far ends of the bench, and there is nowhere else for him to go. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickle and he feels very much like a rabbit staring into the slavering jaws of a hungry wolf. "I had the same dream. A nightmare, again, about you. It's strange." He shakes his head, and the feeling passes. "Thank you for meeting with me. I get the strangest feeling that we know each other, I feel..." He presses his fist to his chest and, against his better judgement, leans closer to the Corinthian. "In here, I feel like I can feel you. Does that make sense?"