Inexplicable Dream Team one-shots

Grim Reaper // DreamNotNap

| platonic |

**Content warnings: mentions of death & murder**

[1584 words]

Cold dew collected on Dream's lips and seeped through his thin clothes, chilling him to the bone. Teeth chattering, he shivered. When his eyelids lifted, he expected to see a grainy hospital ceiling above his head. Instead, Dream saw nothing except mottled gray. His eyes widened; instantly alert, he jolted upright from where he lay on his back.

Dream's heart beat echoed in his ears as he looked around. Fog engulfed his surroundings, so dense he could barely discern what lay a meter beyond him. Tentatively stretching out a hand, he gaped when the mist swallowed up his fingers. Where am I?

Wearing only a pitiful t-shirt and shorts, Dream became even more aware of the freezing air as it sapped his energy. Hugging himself, he stood upon the stinking, peaty ground. Blinking hard, he slowly turned. With a cautious step forward, Dream chose a direction and wandered. Hearing nothing except his footsteps crunching on gravel and sloshing through mud, he heaved a deep breath to quiet his rising panic. Did anyone else know he was here? Would it be wise to call out for help?

Suddenly, a male voice echoed through the mist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Dream gasped and spun around. The mist parted, revealing a figure standing behind him. They wore a fluttering blue cloak with an upturned collar, a black earpiece, black leather boots, and a disinterested expression. In one hand, they clutched a long staff whose base poked into the soft ground; a long, intimidating blade curved down from the top. Even longer than my di-

"George, did you locate him?" A voice crackled through the figure's earpiece.

Lifting the other pale hand from within his cloak, the figure pressed a button on their earpiece and confirmed, "Yeah, I found him." They raised an eyebrow at him. "This idiot has no idea where he's going. I'm bringing him now."

"Copy that." The voice went silent.

"Wait, woah, hold on." Dream backed away, suspicious of the strange figure. "Who are you? Who were they? Where are you bringing me?"

"I'm George." Straightening, the figure introduced himself. Remaining in place, he answered each question, "That person in the earpiece was his manager; they're pretty chill. I'm a reaper, bringing you to the Afterlife." As if his explanation were enough, George whipped around, his fluttering blue cloak fanning the fog. "Let's go, big boy." Adopting a brisk pace, he departed.

"Wait, don't leave!" Despite his wariness of the stranger, Dream realized he might be the only entity nearby, and he had no desire for isolation in the frigid fog. Racing after George, he slowed until he matched his pace two meters behind. Hesitantly Dream asked, "If this is the Afterlife, which place are you taking me to?"

"'Which place?' Heaven and Hell are both myths," George dismissed, although his tone grew empathetic as he led them onward. "There's only the Afterlife. Everyone ends up in the same place. It's pointless to imagine heading anywhere else, depending on... what? Some set of ambiguous moral principles everyone is supposed to share?"

"Oh."

"Sorry if that was a lot," George apologized brusquely. Glancing at Dream over his shoulder, he encouraged, "Don't worry, we'll arrive at the Afterlife soon. Your body's in the Overworld, but I can't say for certain what's happening to it."

"You mean, I'm dead?" Dream protested in disbelief. Without waiting for a response, he ran his hands along his arms, patting his belly and thighs; although ice-cold, the flesh was solid. "I feel like crap, but I don't feel dead."