LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

Dream stared at the clock, one closed fist on the wall supporting his weight and the other ruffling his tousled hair aimlessly. He could already feel the last traces of his sanity slipping away, disappearing amongst the aggravating ticking sound of the clock.

"Can I see her?" Dream asked in a grunt, his voice echoing ominously throughout the still chamber.

Sam did not respond. He only stared, his hands tucked firmly behind his back, at the wall before him. Anger rising to his throat like bile, Dream slammed his fist against the wall.

"Dammit, Sam! Can I see her?" he growled, his voice seething with maliciousness.

When Sam once again refused to respond or even acknowledge the fact that Dream had spoken, Dream let out a groan of annoyance and, throwing his arms in the air exasperatedly, he turned away from Sam.

"Fine," he gritted. "I get it. But if she doesn't want to come see me, can you at least give her this?"

Dream threw open the chest that lay in the corner of the cell and, from the bundle of books and papers that lay inside, he extracted a folded letter and held it out to Sam.

Sam's blank eyes flickered between Dream and the letter that was clutched in his hand. Dream could've sworn that, for the briefest of moments, a glimmer of despair flashed through Sam's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"She won't read it," Sam said.

"Can you at least give it to her?" Dream urged, undertones of desperation laced through his voice.

Sam's jaw fell slack.

"She can't read it," he rephrased, and after a moment of hesitation, he added, "Reverie isn't here anymore, Dream."

Dream's lips formed a thin line as he furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment and stared quizzically at Sam.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Did she move or something? Did she go away with Techno again?"

As Sam gulped thickly, Dream could clearly see the apprehension that was swirling in his eyes. Sam shifted uneasily on his feet and aimlessly glanced between Dream and the wall.

"Reverie is dead, Dream," Sam told him.

Sam held his breath, bracing himself for the storm of rage that Dream was going to release, but it never came. Instead, Dream merely stared, the same perplexed expression painted on his freckled face that he had been wearing when he asked Sam if Reverie had moved away. Dream's eye twitched ominously as he let out a short breath of deriding laughter.

"That's—that's not true," he said, shaking his head slowly. "Rev isn't dead."

Despite the fact that Dream was, quite simply, a terrible person, Sam still found himself pitying him in that moment. The mighty Dream, legendary combatant and powerful leader, was unfolding right before Sam's very eyes. Dream continued to shake his head as he took small steps away from Sam, incoherent mutters rolling from his lips.

"She wanted to get rid of the Blood Vines," Sam continued cautiously, anxious that he would strike a nerve with Dream and provoke an angry outburst. "So she did. And I—uh—I think you know what happened to the Polidoris in the legend."

Sam could see it now—the fury creeping its way onto Dream's face, invading his despondent features. When Dream clenched his fists, a wave of discomfort washed over Sam. The last thing he wanted was to try and restrain Dream as he took his anger out on Sam.

"She's not dead," Dream gritted, certain hostility in his broken voice. "She can't be dead."

Sam wanted to mention how horribly Dream had treated Reverie. While Sam had never directly involved himself in any conflicts until very recently, he had always been watching from the sidelines, listening in. Dream claimed to have truly loved Reverie, and perhaps that was true, but he had an unhealthy obsession with her. He was protective of her to the point that it became toxic possessiveness. He would hunt down anyone who dared to hurt Reverie, completely indifferent to the fact that he was constantly hurting her himself.