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Rose manages to make it through the rest of brunch without too much awkwardness, but her eyes are drawn to the raven even so. She and Hal part with a kiss on the cheek.
She stares at the raven for a moment. Jaw tight and mouth pressed into a thin line, she trails after it. It flies off, but doesn’t go far. Lands on a bench in a park just a block away. She sits beside it with a sigh, doesn’t meet its eye. Can’t.
“He send you?” She asks simply.
Matthew caws. “I don’t even know where he is. No one does.”
“He’s in The Dreaming.” She assures, swallowing at nothing. She picks at her nails, looking everywhere but at the raven beside her.
“ That’s where you imprisoned him?” He scoffs.
“He was going to kill me. I didn’t want to kill him. Until he stops trying, that’s where he’ll be.” Or, at least that’s how she justifies it to herself.
“You got Lyta pregnant! In a dream! Do you really not realize how dangerous you are?” He hops towards her imploringly.
Rose finally manages to look at him. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m doing good. There haven’t been any other instances like that. I don’t see why I still have to die.”
“There haven’t been any instances yet .”
Rose rises with a huff. Doesn’t care if she looks crazy yelling at a bird. “Well, I’m The Vortex! If I want, there could be an instance right now.” She warns with as much darkness as she could muster, which wasn’t much.
“Hey hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” Matthew squawks, flying back a few feet. “Look, even if you’re not going to free Dream… No one knows what to do without him. Some of the dreams left when they heard he was imprisoned again. Lucienne’s keeping an eye on the castle and library. But there’s no one in charge. No one to be in charge. Except, maybe …” He trails off unconvincingly.
Rose frowns, crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not… I never wanted to be —“ She sighs. “I don’t want to rule anything . I just want to live my life.”
“Well, you might not have much of a choice.” If a raven could shrug, he would. “At least visit tonight. Talk to Lucienne and… and Dream .”
Rose thinks for a moment. Nods. Couldn’t do much harm to see him, at least. Maybe he’s changed his mind. “Okay.” She agrees softly. “Okay, yeah.”
He’s there, when she goes home, The Corinthian. He kind of always is. She never gave him a key, but he never needs one to get in.
“How was brunch?” He asks, casually draping himself over the couch.
Rose sighs, tugs off her coat and shoves leftovers into the fridge. “Hal thinks you’re too old for me.” She calls back from the kitchen.
The Corinthian laughs. “Think I might be a bit too old for any human, Rosebud.”
“He also thinks you’re a slut.” She grabs a seltzer from the fridge and shuts it. Jumps when he’s suddenly in front of her. She hadn’t heard him get up.
He sucks at his teeth, lets out a kind of apathetic hmm sound. “Well, he ain’t exactly wrong on that front either.”
“You’re honest, at least.” She remarks, sipping at her drink. “Do you have a life, Corinthian?”
He tilts his head, smiles. “What? Do you not like having me around?”
She rolls her eyes, ducks around him. “ Not what I said. You just always seem to be here. Which, you know, if you had a life you wouldn’t be.”
“You want the truth, Rosie?” He asks, trailing after her as she enters the living room. “The real truth?”
“ Please .” She sighs, collapsing into her spot at the edge of the couch. “I don’t think I can do with people hiding things from me anymore. Not after my dad. Not after Dream .” Right. Dream. Morpheus. You have to talk to him, again , tonight.
“I think I’ve been running for a real long time, Rose. I ain’t a good man, I know that much. But…” He hesitates. “I ain’t interested in being one, either.”
“I figured. From all the, you know, murder .” She relaxes against the sagging cushions of the couch. A couch that was older than her, and felt like it. Felt like home.
“That scare you?” He asks softly as he approaches.
She opens a single eye, stares at him. “Should it?” She counters, sipping at her seltzer. “Because, if you’re a nightmare, that means you’re made of dream-stuff, right?”
“I am.” He sits beside her, hip against hip despite the plethora of room.
She opens both eyes, watches him closely. “Then, by that logic since I am The Vortex, I could destroy you?” She says casually. As though it weren’t a threat.
To be fair, it wasn’t.
“Yes… Yes, you could.” He agrees as though the sentiment excited him. “Do you want to?”
She thinks for a moment. “No.” She answers honestly. “But you’re avoiding the question.”
“I like being here. That so hard to believe?” He finally relents.
“You ran away from Dream. Kept running and wanted me to defeat him so you could be free. Free of the The Dreaming and everything. I guess it just doesn’t make sense to be hanging around The Vortex after that?” She shrugs, sips at her seltzer.
“You’re not Dream.” The Corinthian insists firmly, hand on her knee. “ Believe me , if you were anything like him I’d be far, far away from here by now.”
“I just… I don’t know what you want from me now that he’s— he’s taken care of it.” She admits, glancing to his hand on her knee. She could feel the heat of it through her jeans. “Unless… unless you’re hoping I’ll actually kill him?”
The Corinthian shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind if you did. But that’s a choice you’ve gotta make. I can’t make you do it.” Which was true. Even if Rose Walker was as foolish and easy to influence as other humans, it’s not like he could harness her power and use it himself. The very essence of her power would kill him. She’d have to be the one to pull the trigger, however that ends up manifesting. “Dream will kill you, if you let him out. He’ll only drag me back to The Dreaming. Maybe unmake me. But being unmade ain’t the same as dying. It’s not permanent.”
“I know…” She trails off. Contemplative. Distant, before eventually returning. “I still don’t know what you do, though. Like do you have a job?”
He laughs. The kind of laugh that’s halfway to a howl. “My job was supposed to be scaring people when they’re asleep. But Dream’s gone, I can be whatever I want.” He watches her for a moment. Watches her from behind those glasses. “Do you need me to do something?”
“Nothing I can think of.” She answers honestly, watching him right back and trying to keep from snatching those glasses off his face. “Do I get to tell you what to do?”
“You’re probably the only being alive that’s got the power to do it now.” He sort of hums.
She turns, pulls her knees beneath her as she sits facing him. “Why do I get the feeling you want me to?”
“Cause you’re too smart for your own good.” He reaches towards her, hand on her cheek. Jed would be home from school soon. They didn’t really have the time to do much, but he liked touching her. Likes the way heat rose to the surface of her skin. Likes how she tries to suppress that girlish grin. Tries to look more stoic than she is. More composed.
She eyes him suspiciously. “You’re really weird.”
“I’ve been called worse.” He sets a hand on the top of her thigh. Just sitting there and enjoying her presence. “You planning on writing tonight?”
She shakes her head. “I need to go to bed early. Catch up on some sleep.”
“You’re not having bad dreams, are you?” He asks, mindlessly tracing over the curve of her cheek. “Cause I should be the only nightmare pestering you.”
“I’ve got to take care off some things.” She explains with a shrug. “I want to talk to Dream.”
“I won’t stop you, Rosie.” He says as though he could to begin with. “But Dream doesn’t change.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe, now that he’s had time to think… Now that it’s been a couple of months and I haven’t destroyed The Dreaming. Maybe he’ll realize he doesn’t need to kill me.” She speaks like she doesn’t fully believe it either, and he doesn’t blame her.
The Corinthian frowns but doesn’t let the distaste for the idea sour his tone. “Well, if anyone’s capable of getting Dream to change, it’ll be you.”
Keys jangle at the front door then, and Jed bursts into the apartment. “Rose?” He calls out.
Rose hops up from the couch, beaming when she spots her brother. “Hey! How was school?”
The first time she sees him after the Cereal Convention, she almost thinks he’s a ghost. He’s leaning against his car, chatting up Jed like he wasn’t a nightmare.
“Hey, Jeddy.” Rose forces a smile, eyes flitting between her brother and The Corinthian. “Why don’t you go upstairs and start on your homework?” She suggests, clearing her throat.
“But we were just talking!” He protests, not having quite grown out of that whining kind of tone kids had.
“I know,” She assures, crouching to his level. Stomach tense with her back to The Corinthian. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just need to talk to him alone, okay?”
“Okay…” Jed sighs, waving at The Corinthian as he rushes off. “Bye!”
“Bye, Jed!” The Corinthian calls back, grinning as Jed runs into the apartment building. “He’s a good kid. Came right home after school.”
“How did you find us?” Rose demands, rising and pushing her shoulders back. She stands tall, but he’s taller.
He doesn’t loom though, just stands there casually. “I’m good at finding people.”
“Why are you here?” She crosses her arms, straightens her back.
“Can’t I visit my friends?” He shrugs, adjusting his glasses. “Not like I could drop in on your dreams. I don’t enter The Dreaming anymore. And, besides, you don’t wanna meet me there. I’m a hell of a lot more scary. Especially to someone like Jed.”
Rose scoffs. “That’s it?” She questions, stepping towards him, lips pressed into a thin line. “Cause I already did what you asked.” Her voice drops to a whisper. As if it were a shameful thing, survival.
She still hadn’t killed Dream, but he doesn’t correct her. Just sort of leans over till his lips are at her ear. “You been sleeping, Rosebud?”
Rose backs away. Shoves at him viciously and feels immediately guilty for it. “You need to go.”
“You should get a decent night’s rest, Rosie.” The Corinthian doesn’t flinch, as relentlessly pleasant and charming as he always was. “Though, if you having trouble on that front… I could help .” He hums, smiling at the way her eyes widen at the implication. “ The sand , Rosie. The sand . With Dream imprisoned, I could get my hands on it and use it to help you sleep.”
“ Oh! ” She groans, rubbing at her eyes.
“That is, of course, if you’re just naturally having trouble falling asleep.” He elaborates, glancing around before stepping towards her and lowering his voice. “But if it’s the guilt that’s eating at you, I should probably tell you it’ll bleed into your dreams. Not that you should feel guilty, of course.”
“And if I do?” She glances up to him and finds comfort in the fact that he isn’t grinning like the devil for once. “If I do feel guilty?”
“We can talk about it, if you want.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asks as he helps her clean up from dinner.
Rose furrows her brow in confusion as she tugs rubber gloves on. “What?”
“When you go to talk to Dream.” He elaborates, leaning against the counter.
“Why? So you two can argue?” She scoffs, starting the dish water. “I’ve seen you two bicker. If you’re there, he’ll try to kill me out of spite .”
“You think poorly of me, then.” He hums, runs a hand through his hair. “I still don’t think you should go alone.”
“Why not? I’m The Vortex . There’s nothing he can do to hurt me, is there? He tried and when I fought back he lost.” She tosses a spatula into the sink and restrains herself from doing the same with the china.
“No one there is loyal to you. Not yet.” He frowns, watches her scrub at dishes almost violently in her frustration before stepping between her and the sink. “I won’t say anything, if you don’t want me to. Or I can wait outside?”
Rose sighs, head bent as she stares at the kitchen tile. “It might be…” She sighs again, stares at the ceiling before finally look at him. “It might be better if I don’t go alone. If anything happens to me there, you can at least come back and tell Lyta—“
“ Nothing is going to happen to you.” The Corinthian assures softly.
“You tell Lyta, okay?” Rose insists, almost flicking dishwater in his face when she gestures. “You tell Lyta because she’s the only one who knows about The Dreaming or— or any of this. I’ve got it set up that she’s who takes care of Jed if I—“ She hesitates, takes a deep breath that shudders through her. “If I don’t wake up. Unity’s lawyers helped me set up a will, so that’s all taken care of—“
“A will ? Rosie, you’re not even 22 yet!”
“ I know . But I’m The Vortex . Dream wants me dead.”
“You could fix that problem pretty easily, you know.”
She glares daggers at him. “I am not a killer. It might be easy for you to think that, but it’s not for me.”
“He’s so weak at this point, I could probably do it.” He offers and there should be something dark about his tone. Something half-menacing or smug. But it feels, to Rose at least, like more a favor for her than him. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy it. Rose wasn’t naïve enough to think The Corinthian took no pleasure in killing. Especially his creator. “I can do the hard part, if you’ll let me.” He brushes a thumb over her cheek. “Or help you do it. You’re strong enough to. I know you are.”
“I don’t think I can.” She admits, leans into the touch. “I don’t want you to.”
“Someone ought to protect you, Rosie. You can’t just protect everyone else all the time.”
“Yeah, and who protects you?”
He hesitates. Feels inclined to tell her he doesn’t need protection, but knows better than to waste the opportunity. “You do. You protected me from Dream, didn’t you?” It wasn’t technically a lie. In fact, it wasn’t a lie at all. It was a fine balance with Rose. A balance of acknowledging her power, the things she was capable of, without hinting at the reality of it all. That this couldn’t last forever. That she didn’t need him.
Rose smiles. A soft, sad kind of smile. “Yeah… I guess I did, didn’t I?” She pulls away, drains the sink, tugs the gloves off and dries her hands. “I’m gonna do these tomorrow.” She decides, setting the gloves aside and nodding back to her bedroom. “I’m tired. And I do need to sleep.”
“Oh?” He questions with a grin.
“ Actually sleep .” She elaborates with a light chuckle. “Which I’m sure is a disappointment to you, but my sleep schedule has been awful lately.”
“Oh, you could never disappoint me Rose Walker.” He drawls in that sickly sweet tone he usually reserves for people a lot less smart than Rose. Even she seems to only half-believe it at first. But after a moment she lets the sentiment sink in. Let’s herself believe it. Which was… good . It wasn’t technically a lie, after all. The Corinthian doubts this game of power and control of hers would last long. Vortexes were, by their nature, volatile. And while Rose had managed minimum damage to The Dreaming in her imprisonment of its master, The Corinthian didn’t think it could go on forever. She would kill Dream, eventually. Or else be killed herself. At which point, despite Dream’s survival, The Corinthian suspects he’d still be impressed she held off that arrogant metaphysical manifestation to begin with. “Do you want me to…?”
“Yeah.” She nods, turns and ducks into her room. Shuts the door, but only long enough to get into her pajamas. She opens it to beckon him in, confused when she finds nothing but the dark, empty hall.
“You want, I don’t know , rain sounds or something?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.
She’d jump in surprise, but honestly he did this kind of thing pretty often. “No.” She answers simply, shutting the door and turning in his arms. “Just stay till I fall asleep?”
“Always.” He assures, kissing her softly. He kisses her again. Kind of hums. Wants to carry her to bed and make her cum, but doesn’t. Restrains himself. Makes himself pull away. The Corinthian was good at many things, but restraint wasn’t really one of them. Still.
“Shoes off, though.” She calls back. “I’d let you borrow a shirt or something, but I don’t think anything of mine would fit you.” She climbs into bed, pulls her pile of blankets over herself and waits for him to join her. The apartment wasn’t really cold, but Rose had developed a habit of layers in her childhood. Liked the feeling it gave. The weight around her. She had a weighted blanket somewhere, but didn’t have much use for it anymore.
He climbs in beside her, just boxers and a t-shirt. She always meant to ask him if his clothes were real, or a dream. Not that it really mattered. There’s just an air of cedarwood about him and something almost metallic, but not. He waits for her to make a move. Waits to see if she turns over or cuddles up to him or just wants him next to her as she falls asleep.
Rose just stares at the ceiling for a few moments. “Are you seeing anyone?”
The Corinthian suppresses a laugh. “Other than you?” He asks. Rose nods, and he continues. “No. Why, are you?” He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she was. His name hadn’t been in the papers since before the Cereal Convention, but The Corinthian was almost overdue for another appearance.
She shakes her head. “No. I just… I want to have a housewarming party for the apartment. Invite my friends over, introduce you . But that would be really, really embarrassing if we aren’t a… thing .”
“A thing ?” He questions, turning to look at her.
Rose sighs, rubs at her face. “I don’t know. It feels weird to try and call you my boyfriend .” They were far beyond anything as pedestrian as that, but it still felt awkward to even bring up.
The Corinthian watches her, frowns. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He assures, reaching out and taking her hand. “We’re partners in crime, you and me.”
“ Oh God, ” She exclaims softly, trying not to wake Jed in the other room. “That makes it sound like I helped you kill people.”
“Well, okay, just partners then. How ‘bout that?” He looks to her imploringly.
Rose stares at the ceiling for a while. Doesn’t look at him. Can’t, when he’s like this. Voice all soft and pleading. Partners didn’t sound bad. Hal would think it kind of pretentious, but it suited the pair better than anything else she could think of. And they were partners, in a way. He helped out. A lot . Even when he didn’t have to. Especially with Jed. And she… well, she defeated Dream. She supposed that was something. If he liked her, needed her just because she was The Vortex, he had a funny way of going about it. He was handsy too, but he had plenty of options when it came to fulfilling more carnal desires. Rose hadn’t had a partner since high school. She was a fire-bright girl who insisted on tutoring her in French despite doing worse in the class than Rose was and who had tragically moved across the country halfway through junior year. She didn’t date girls much after that. Boys in college had tried, but Rose focused on her studies and had, more than that, found them on the whole lacking.
“Still with us, Rosebud?” The Corinthian asks softly.
Rose turns, finally looks at him. “Partners is good.” She agrees. Gives him just a brief kiss before resting her head on his chest.
“Well, I’m glad you agree.” He hums, and she can feel the timber of his voice in his chest. Nightmares don’t need to breathe. At least, she doesn’t think they do. But his chest rises and falls in a soothing rhythm that’s only compounded by the way he rubs her back. She falls asleep the same way she imagines people fall in love: Slowly, comfortably, and with an awareness of the danger present she doesn’t ignore, but nuzzles herself even closer to.
She can hear the echoes of Jed’s exciting dream in the other room, but ignores it. The walls start to warp, and there’s the iron-y taste of blood at the back of her throat as she struggles to keep them up. Her temples tense, but the walls stay.
“You doing okay, Rosebud?” The Corinthian asks, and his voice kind of distorts in the dream. “Just take it easy. Like every other night, right?”
“Right.” She agrees, swallowing at that metallic stuff at the back of her throat. “Okay… okay I’ve got to talk to Lucienne?”
The Corinthian nods. “She’ll be in the library. It’s in the castle, do you know how to get there?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Rose thinks hard for a moment, teeth grinding against each other as her apartment fades into the throne room.
“ Good .” The Corinthian praises, glancing up to his stained-glass portrait and grinning. “Haven’t been back here in a while.”
“Can you stay here?” She asks, milling around nervously. “I want to talk to Lucienne alone. Matthew said things were chaos.”
The Corinthian shrugs. “If you don’t want me there, I won’t be.”
“I don’t not want you there. I just think it’ll go better if I’m alone.” She explains, takes his hand and squeezes it.
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.” He assures, squeezing it back and stepping away. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to see Dream.”
The castle echoes as she paces through it. Perhaps it inhabitants were hiding from her. She wouldn’t blame them. They had no reason to believe she wasn’t to be feared. No way of knowing she was so desperate not to hurt anyone that it was pulling her apart at the seams. Its structure is labyrinthine in nature. To her, at least. Perhaps it was less confusing to the people who belonged here. But Vortex or not, Rose Walker was a creature of the waking world.
Lucienne’s nose is buried in a large volume when Rose enters. She didn’t have to see the cover to know what it was about. Knew Lucienne was undoubtedly trying to find a way to free Dream. Maybe defeat The Vortex herself.
“Matthew said you wanted to speak with me?” Rose sort of mutters.
Lucienne jumps a bit, but remains seated. “The Dreaming is without a ruler. We were under the impression you intended to become it.”
Rose shakes her head. “I don’t want power—“
“Even so. Dream is… somewhere . And something must be done about the missing dreams.” Lucienne shuts the book. Vortexes and other Threats to the Dreaming.
“What do you mean?” Rose questions, brow furrowed in confusion.
Lucienne eyes her. “After you imprisoned Dream, some of his creation fled again.”
“So what?” Rose shrugs. “Is it like… it is messing with the waking world, that they’re gone?”
“It could.” Lucienne warns, rising and pursing her lips. “But even if they were all like Fiddler’s Green, they have a job here.”
“A job maybe Dream gave them. But if they want to be free and explore the waking world, why shouldn’t they?” Rose counters.
Lucienne reshelves the volume. “Because they have a purpose here. A function.”
“Why would Dream gives his creations free will and emotions and stuff if he was just going to trap them here forever?” Rose scoffs.
Lucienne frowns, takes a step back. “You’ve been talking to The Corinthian, haven’t you?”
“Maybe.” Rose admits, glancing about the library nervously. “Is there anything else?”
“Is there anything el—“ Lucienne stops herself, straightens her suit and stands tall. “There has been an uptick in bad dreams lately. Moody ones. Nightmares, even. It appears as though Dream’s mood can still influence The Dreaming, even if he himself cannot.”
Rose nods, thinks for a moment. “I’ll talk to him.” She turns, races through the library, looks before her to make sure no one’s looking when she palms a copy of Into The Night .
“You will tell him I asked, won’t you?” Lucienne calls out. “That I’m worried about him?”
Rose looks back, tries not to let the sentiment at the core of Lucienne’s request get to her. “I will.” She agrees, ducking out of the library before Lucienne can say another word.
She basically runs back to the throne room.
The Corinthian’s just milling around. Smiles when he sees her. Frowns when he sees she’s upset. “What she’d say?”
Rose shakes her head. “No. No, it’s not her.” She insists, forcing herself to take a long, deep breath as the castle begins to shake. “I just don’t like this. I don’t like hurting people.”
They’d been working on this bit, the two of them. He can’t even count how many times he’s told her not to feel guilty. Told her Dream wouldn’t feel the same, even if he pretended. Hurting people was simply the duty of the Dream Lord, sometimes. He didn’t concern himself with guilt when he thought his actions necessary. Rational. Rose shouldn’t either. There was no shame in self-preservation. But The Corinthian doesn’t repeat himself this time. Saves that much for the next time she’s convinced herself she’s some monster. “Why don’t we just go talk to Dream so we can be done with this and go home?” He suggest softly, grasps her chin and gently lifts it till she’s looking at him. “Okay?”
The castle finally stops shaking, and Rose nods. “Okay.” She agrees, releasing that long breath as they both fade back into her apartment. Or, well, the dream version of it.
“This where you’re keeping him?” The Corinthian questions, glancing about at the slightly warped mirror of the place he was so familiar with.
“No. He’s in here.” She pulls the copy of her book from the spot she’d been hiding it in her jacket.
“Smart.” He remarks, turning it over and grinning at her picture on the back. “I don’t think Lucienne’d wanna read your book nowadays.”
Rose takes the book back, thumbs through the pages. “It has two parts, his—“ She doesn’t want to say prison . Doesn’t want to own what she’s done to Dream, but cage doesn’t sound much better. “His prison. One’s an observation room, the other part is where he’s at. When you’re in the first part, he can’t see you but you can see him.”
“Think of that all by yourself?” He sounds proud, and even now she still finds it unseemly he’d find pride in such a thing.
Rose shrugs. “It’s just double-sided glass.” She kneels then, sets the open volume on the ground. “Come on. I want to get out of here.” She sighs, taking his hand. She closes her eyes, takes a breath deep enough her chest hurts, and opens them to the sight of Dream.
“ Fuck, Rosie .” The Corinthian whistles at the sight. She had afforded him more dignity than his last captors, at least. Clothes, for one. But books and food and a false window that would shift through different scenes too. Still, it was a sight to be seen for him. Dream turns then, as though he were looking directly at them. “Shit, can he hear us?”
“No.” She approaches the glass timidly. “And don’t gloat. Please .”
“I won’t.” He promises, raising his hands in defeat. “You want me to go in with you?”
She shakes her head. Steps towards the warped glass, but hesitates. “Don’t come in unless something happens.” She instructs softly, stepping through the glass as though it were water.
His lips are pursed when he spots her, Dream. The cell was messier than when she’d put him there. One of the chairs broken on the floor. Some of the blankets and books astray about the small space. She suspected his window would be shattered if one could shatter a dream.
“Lucienne asked after you. She’s worried.” Rose offers softly. Dream glares at her, but doesn’t speak. “She also said that people are having bad dreams. Thinks it might be influenced by your mood?” That bit doesn’t seem to surprise him. “Is there anything else I could put here that would make you happier?” She already knows the answer to that is a resounding no , but she has to try. Not trying, despite knowing the answer, seems so much worse. Rose lingers. Almost wishes she had brought something. Some kind of peace offering. Then again, nothing would please him but her corpse.
“It was clever of you, to imprison me in The Dreaming.” He finally says. “It’s protected the dreamers, at least. The realm’s not crumbling like it did before. You’ve gilded my cage quite nicely.”
Rose frowns. “Thanks?”
“But it cannot go on like this forever.” Dream warns, turning to face her fully.
Rose sighs. “If I let you out, you’ll kill me.”
“You say that as though it would be a punishment.” He softens then. As though the accusation hurt him. As though he was capable of being hurt. “An act of revenge. And not as though you are a storm brewing, ready to burst at a moment’s notice. I do not hate you, Rose Walker. You can still stay here after you die. But if you don’t, you will destroy everything .”
“I won’t. I’ve been good about keeping it at bay.” She sputters through her words, her voice shaking. Everything seems to shake for a moment.
“For now—“
“If I am The Vortex now, that means I’ve always been The Vortex. I’ve always had this power. I managed to keep it under wraps for 21 years— somehow . I’ll figure out how to keep it under wraps for another 21.”
There’s nothing but pity within his starry gaze. “That’s not how this works, Rose.”
The walls of his prison warble like sheet metal used to make lighting in a play. Her entirety tenses, fists balled at her side, teeth grinding against each other. “Unity is dead, Dream. She died in her sleep right after meeting Jed. You already took Gault away from him. He’ll be completely alone without me.”
“He’ll be alive .” Dream implores, steps towards her and opens his mouth to speak before quickly closing it.
“He’s just trying to upset you.” The Corinthian whispers. Grasps Rose’s hand and tugs her towards him. “He knows you’re a good person. And he can’t kill you unless you let him.
Rose wipes at her eyes, shuddering in breath. She yanks her hand out of The Corinthian’s, storms out of the cell.
The Corinthian grins like a devil at the sight before him. Watching Dream plead with Rose for his freedom from afar was sweet enough, but being there physically was better than anything he’d ever imagined. Which was saying a lot, The Corinthian had grown rather imaginative in his past 100 or so years of freedom.
“Come to finish me off?” Dream scoffs.
The Corinthian shrugs. “Love to, Dream, but Rose has begged I don’t.”
“It’s never stopped you before, humans begging.”
The Corinthian laughs. A haughty, kind of howling laughter. “You’re one to talk. I’ve begged on my knees for you and gotten nothing but apathy in return.”
“The humans you killed, was it not apathy you felt?”
“That’s the difference between you and me, Dream. I like what I do. I like killing. It’s not an obligation to me.”
“You think that’s better? Killing people because you like it, not because you have to?”
“I don’t pretend to be better than I am.”
“Are you certain about that?” Dream eyes him. “Rose seems to think better of you than reality.”
“Oh you think Rose goddamn Walker doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into?” He grins.
Dream smirks. “She has me in a cage, but you on a leash.”
“Which is more comfortable, do you think?” The Corinthian dares, nearing Dream and all but looming over him.
“I’m sure you’re quite comforted by your bondage. But I have yet to forget the taste of freedom.”
“Well I’ve tasted things much, much sweeter than freedom ever was.” He gloats.
“Does she know you’ll leave the moment you get her to do it? Or have you tricked her into thinking this game of yours is something real .”
“Nothing about me is real. I’m a dream, Dream. A corrupted one, sure. But a dream nonetheless. And she’s The Vortex. I couldn’t free myself of her winds even if I wanted to.”
“You raged against my control and yet submit to hers so easily.” He seems angry at the imagined contradiction.
“You’re not Rose Walker, Dream.” The Corinthian explains simply. As though it was simple. It was. To him, at least. He bathes in the satisfaction of the situation for a moment more before ducking out of the cell. Let Dream swelter in his own self-imposed imprisonment. Stars know she’d let him out if he’d stop trying to kill her. Stars know he’d be dead if she willed it.
The Corinthian wills himself from the pages of the novel. Hopes Rose hadn’t made it too far, and finds her suppressing tears on the edge of her bed. He can hear Jed’s dream in the other room bleed more and more in Rose’s.
“Rose?” He whispers, the wind whipping within the small apartment. “ Rose? ”
She takes a long, shuddering, deep breath. “I can’t— I just can’t with him .”
“Rosebud, you’re bringing the walls down.” He warns in a soft, cooing voice.
“ I know .”
“Wake up, then.”
She shakes her head, sniffling. “Can’t. I have put the book back. Lucienne will notice if it’s missing.”
“I’ll put it back.” He offers, plucking it off the floor before she can disagree. “I’ll put it back, and return to the waking world right away.”
Rose hesitates. Eyes the book in his hands. “Don’t hurt Dream.”
“I won’t.” The Corinthian assures, patting her shoulder. “I promise.”
Rose nods. Takes one last shuddering breath as The Dreaming shakes, and wakes. The Corinthian isn’t there, but of course he isn’t. He doesn’t have a physical form separate from the way his psyche metaphysically manifested in The Dreaming. He was all dreams. Jed doesn’t seem to be awake, at least, so that was good. The world might have strange dreams tonight, but they’d haves dreams. Rose looks to the clock and frowns. 4:57 AM. Early enough to be annoying, too late to go back to bed even if she hadn’t almost cracked the foundations of The Dreaming last time.
He appears in the room a moment later. Silently sits at the edge of her bed. He doesn’t pressure her to talk. He never does, which she always appreciates. That always seems to be what everyone else wants. Lyta, Hal, her therapist . She knew she’d feel better if she got it all out, but there was something about the expectation that choked her. Besides, it’s not like any of them would understand it. Even Lyta, who was more than familiar with the more magical aspect to her problems, didn’t seem to get the pressure and guilt. Would have so easily killed Dream and been none-the-worse for it. Though, she was much more ruthless than Rose was. The Corinthian was too, but he seemed to understand that some part of her would never be quite comfortable with that violence. Even if he wished she was. For her sake or his.
“You know, Dream was so… nice , at first. I thought he cared.” Rose sniffles, tries to compose herself. It wouldn’t be the first time she cried in front of him, but she hated it still. “Thought he wanted to help me find Jed. Help me control the vortex. But it was all one big trick of his, wasn’t it? He just wanted to find you. Kill me before I could become a problem.”
“I’m sorry, Rosebud.” The Corinthian says, and means it. If he was familiar with anything, it was Dream’s particular kind of unkindness. Dream never saw how wicked he was. Never saw himself in the wrong. It was almost worse, that he was unaware of the unjust hurt he caused. He could understand if Dream hurt people on purpose. Enjoyed it like he enjoyed killing. But no. No, he just thought he was doing the right thing.
“My dad used to be nice too.” She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Really nice. To me. To Mom. But… Fuck! I feel like such an idiot.”
“You shouldn’t. Dream’s just like that.” The Corinthian insists. “Dream doesn’t see people as people. He sees them as tools. A means to an end. He sees himself like that too. Like he ain’t a man, just his function. It’s not even personal.” I wish it was. It’d hurt less if it was personal. “A nightmare must haunt mortal dreams, a vortex must die, the dream king must maintain ultimate control over The Dreaming at all times or else chaos rules. He’s convinced himself he can hide behind his rules. Never get hurt if he doesn’t care. But it’s not true. None of it.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this. Not you, not Dream, not this stupid fucking Vortex .” She knows she’s not being nice. Knows that first bit probably burned him, but she can’t the words from spilling out. “ Sorry . That’s not a dig at you—“
“No.” He whispers. “No, you’re right. Man like me and woman like you would never have crossed paths if it weren’t for… everything . You’ve every right to mourn your normalcy.”
That was it. She was having a hard time putting it into words, and yet he’d somehow managed to. “I wish I could have a normal life and you, for what it’s worth.”
“Me too.” He agrees. And if he doesn’t mean it, he’s real good at pretending. “Though, I’m not sure what use I’d be to normal Rose .”
“I can think of plenty.”
“Oh you can think of plenty, can you?” He questions huskily.
Rose slaps his arm. “Don’t be crude.” She scolds through a burst of laughter.
“It was worth it for that.” He grins.
“What?” She laughs again.
“ That , Rosebud.” He scoots closer, toes his shoes off.
She eyes him with an amused kind of suspicion. “Sometimes I think you’re too nice to be real.”
He considers countering with I’m not real. I’m a dream. But doesn’t. “I’m very, very nice. I’m just not good, like you.”
“Is there a difference?” Rose grins, scooting towards him.
“A big one.” The Corinthian smiles that kind of smile that reaches the corner of his eyes. “You’ll be able to tell, one day.”