The Waking Hour

by the_QUEEN_of_DRAMA

Summary:

What would you do, if you could bring back the love of you unnaturally long life back?
Hob Gadling doesn't intend to let this chance pass and with the help of the new King of the Dreaming he very much intends to resurrect Morpheus.
But this is only the beginning of his problems.
Because now he has 7 days to convince Morpheus, that life isn't that bad.

Chapter 1: Feels Like A Century

Hob nervously polished the glass for the umpteenth time. Outside the sun was shining, the birds were singing and in here he was, just feeling so bloody nervous.
Today was the day.
100 years.
Any moment the door would open, he would walk in and Hob... Hob didn't know, what he would say. Better to wait and see, he guessed.

As he reached for the glass on the counter again, ready to polish it until the walls grew thin, the bells over the entrance jingled and Hob instinctively took a deep breath.
Here went nothing.
He raised his head, ready to see a figure dressed in elegant white robes, tall and foreboding, yet with an innocent look on his face no adult ever had.

It wasn't him.
Instead of a floor-length white coat, the man in the doorway wore a simple black coat over his shirt and jeans of the same colour. Unruly strands of hair hung over his eyes, which seemed of a dark blue in the first moment and at the second endless like the night sky.

Hob gasped. His hand gripped the edge of the counter, the soft wood giving him more than simply something to hold onto.

It was him.
It was him.

It didn't take more than a second for the other to notice Hob and to walk over to him with a smile on his lips so thin, that you could only notice it, if you knew the man.
And, by god, Hob knew him.

“Hello, Hob Gadling”, the one he had once called his stranger, later called his friend greeted him.

His voice was soft as ever, with a rumble so deep like shifting mountains. It almost took Hob's breath away, but his curiosity won in that very moment.

“H-How... How are you... here?”

The man's smile grew a tiny bit mischievous.

“Is it not customary anymore to greet someone, when you haven't seen each other... in quite some time?”, he asked.

Hob shook his head in disbelieve.

“It... still is. Hello... Dream. Uhm... don't take this the wrong way, but... how are you...” He helplessly gestured towards the Lord of Dreams. “How are you... uhm... alive? Is that the right word? I mean... I...” He gripped the counter a bit harder. “I've been... to... to your funeral. I've met this... this other Dream, who was you... except... he wasn't.”

For a moment Hob needed to avert his eyes and blink back the uprising emotions.
Good gods... the funeral. Hob hadn't thought about it in... ages? Didn't want to. Would have been happy to never think about it ever again till the sun exploded.

“...I thought, I'd never see you again”, he whispered.

All noises in the pub seemed to die away, his paper-thin words echoed in the still air like a scream, loud enough for everybody to hear.

And nevertheless Dream smiled at him.

“Hadn't you said yourself, that this is, what I 'always do'? I've said my farewells... and I've returned.”

“Yes... but how? Your siblings... they told me – told everyone – that you were gone for good and...”

The words stopped right in his throat as Dream took a step towards him, now close enough, that Hob could've just reached out and touched him.
And yet... he didn't dare.

“There are many things in this world, which are not as permanent as you'd think them to be. My... death is one of them”, Dream answered, the smile unwavering and small on his face. If anything, it only seemed to grow a bit more.

Something stirred in Hob's chest, something so brittle and very breakable like the glass next to his hand.
Hope.

Was this real?
Was he really back?
He was Dream of the Endless. If anyone could come back from being dead, it was him, right?
...right?

The hope in Hob's heart shook and rattled like a thousand fragments.

He forced a smile on his face and gestured towards an empty table at the side.

“Please, my friend, sit with me. Have a drink and... tell me everything about your adventure. For once, I'm the one, who wants to know, what you've been doing these past 100 years.”

They sat down opposite of each other and Hob stole a second to wave at a waiter, ordering them wine.

“To celebrate your... re-birthday, I guess”, Hob laughed shortly, toasting towards Dream. “It's good to have you back.”

Sitting here, drinking wine, Hob felt himself relax a bit again.
Dream would tell him, what had happened and then they could laugh about it. Hell, he might even joke about the tears he had shed for the Prince of Stories, when he thought that their story had ended.

Silence fell around them, stretching its invisible wings, suffocating the whole room with anticipation.

He could hear Dream take a deep breath, probably to organize his thoughts before he spoke them out loud. That's what he would do. Tell Hob his story.

The smile on Dream's face shifted a bit and... Hob barely trusted his eyes, but it looked a bit... warmer.
Not that Dream had ever looked cold or unkind. Well, at least not since 1889 and yet... this smile made Hob's heart beat faster. Louder. So very loud.

“I've missed you, Hob”, Dream finally began talking. “When I came back, meeting you was the first thing on my mind.”

“You just came back? Like... today?”

Hob took a big gulp of his wine. On the other side of the table Dream had more restraint.
Well, but he wasn't being visited by an immortal and powerful being, who had been dea- gone for a hundred years, was he?

“Yes, today”, Dream said with a nod. “And now I'm here.”

Dream sat his glass down and Hob feared his heart would jump out of his chest, as Dream touched his hand. Hob could barely feel it. Just the tip of Dream's index finger on the side of his hand, and still it send shivers hot and cold down his spine.

“But what about... what about your kingdom?”, Hob asked, his throat suddenly dry as if he had never drunk anything in his life.

“It is taken care of by the other Dream.”

“Ah... so... he still exists.”

“Yes.”

“And... what about the ones, who... who wanted to destroy you? The... What did your sister call them? The Kindly Ones? Ladies?”

“They won't pursue me any further. The debt is paid. I'm free from their wrath.”

“Oh... that's... that's good.”

Hob drank more wine, hoping erase the scratch from his voice as well as the tremble. But how could he, when Dream's hand was now fully lying on top of his?

It was so warm.
Hob had always imagined Dream's hands to be warm, even though the Dream King looked so pale as if he had spend a whole winter's night outside.

He cleared his throat and gathered up the courage to look Dream in the face.

“So, how did you get back then? Must've been something big and... I don't know... shaking the existence at its very core, am I right?”, he chuckled.

To his surprise, the laugh was answered.

“It was. But it is nothing you need to be concerned about, my dear Hob. I am back. Isn't this all that matters?”

“Sure, but now you're here and we have wine. So tell me. If you don't mind.”

Dream cocked his head slightly to the side, almost grinning like a cat, who had caught a particularly big mouse.

“And what if I do mind?”

“Uhm... what?”

Hob's brain flatlined as Dream entwined their fingers and leaned a bit closer.

“I said, I do mind misusing our time sitting here and talking. I am back, Hob Gadling. Do you want to waste any more meetings of ours just talking, when we could do something way more entertaining instead?”

His face was close. So close, Hob could count Dream's incredibly long lashes. Or the stars in his eyes. Oh, he could've drowned in them...
Hot breath met his lips and Hob closed his eyes and... pulled back.

“Is something wrong, Hob?”, Dream asked, a slither of nervousness dancing though his words.

Hob shook his head and still answered: “Yes.”

Something wasn't right.
He just felt it.

In 600, no, 700 years Dream had never been so... so... open with him.
They sat here in Hob's pub, drinking wine and Dream's hand was so warm in his and...

The silence now suffocated him for good this time.

It was all wrong.

Dream never drank, when they met. He didn't eat and he didn't drink and for sure he never touched Hob. Not once in all these years.
He smiled – occasionally – but not like this. Never like this.

Hob opened his eyes and pulled his hand back like it was the hardest thing in the world to do, because in this very moment, it was.
The heat lingered on his skin for a second longer.

“You know... your hand is really warm”, he said with a steadiness in his voice, which surprised himself.

Dream gave him a confused look.

“I am aware of that.”

“It's like I always dreamed your hands to be.”

“And... is this a bad thing?”

Hob chuckled.

“No... no, it's not. It's just... a dream.”

The smile returned on Dream's face.

“This is what I am. I am Dream and I am all dreams.”

Hob shook his head, the chuckle turned into a sad smile as he let his gaze wander over this beautiful face in front of him.

“It's all I ever wanted. You. Here. Alive and... clearly returning my oh-so persistent crush, which I've been harbouring for...” He sighed. “...way too long.”

Indulging in a whim Hob reached out and let his fingers trail over Dream's cheek.
He didn't really feel the skin beneath his fingertips just as he hadn't tasted the wine.

“This is a dream”, he repeated as Dream leaned into his touch.

“Hob...”

“I'd like to wake up now.”

---

The sun was still hidden behind the tall building of London, only casting the first golden rays into the dwindling night sky as Hob Gadling opened his eyes.
A quick look at his phone brought him finally back to reality.
Outside it was the dawn of the 9^th of November 2025 and he was alone in his flat above The New Inn.

And Dream of the Endless was dead.

Notes:

Hello, my dears.
I'm a bit early this year with my writing. Normally I write in the cozy winter's nights, when I've got nothing else to do, but right now I'm sitting at my kitchen table at 3 fucking AM and it's awfully warm and yet I just HAD TO write this.
Fuck Gaiman. I'm stealing the boys from him.

For new readers:
English is not my first language. If you find any major errors, please tell me. But you may ignore minor spelling mistakes. ;)
Yes, I update daily. D-A-I-L-Y. That's how I roll. Check out my other stories, if you don't believe me. XD

For my sweet recurring readers:
Welcome back! ♥ This isn't going to be a very long story... but also not a short one either. XDD

Chapter 2: One Hundred Nightmares

“Hob...”

A warm hand touched his face.

“No.”

“Hob...”

Soft lips so close to his. Too close.

“No...”

“Hob...”

Surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“No...”

He struggled to get out.

“...you're dead.”

With eyes closed he at least could escape the look of utter heartbreak on this Dream's face. It was pretty convincing, to be honest.
A heavy sigh escaped Hob's lips.

How often had he had this dream since the funeral? Had it really been every night?

Sometimes Dream just strolled into his pub as if nothing had happened.
Sometimes Hob was part of an elaborate scheme to bring him back.
Every time Dream was smiling at him and Hob felt his poor heart break a bit more. By now it could be nothing more than a pile of sand.
How fitting.

He took a step back, away from this alluring Dream, who was everything Hob had ever wanted, nothing he had ever gotten and not one bit true.

“Hey!”, he called into the vastness of the field he was currently standing on. Somewhere in Greece or so. He hadn't paid enough attention.

“Hey, Dream of the Endless. Can you hear me? I'd like to wake up now, please.”

Always the same.
As soon as Hob realized, that it was nothing more than a dream, he asked to wake up.
Sometimes the ceiling of his bedroom greeted him still illuminated by the yellow street lights outside, but it was still better than remaining here even for a second longer.

A tingle rushed down his spine. The only short warning he got before he awoke.
On a whim, he decided to yell something else.

“And if you could be so kind, please... I... I don't want to dream about him anymore, okay? Nothing good can come from this. So... yeah. Please stop. Thank you.”

And so he awoke and disappeared from the Dreaming.

From behind an olive tree the Lord of Dreams stepped out onto the field, looking at the spot where Hob Gadling had stood just a moment before.
The dream in the form of the old lord bowed before him and Dream dismissed him with a smile, letting him retake his original form and leave.

A crow sailed down from the clouded sky and landed on his shoulder.

“Still no luck, sire?, he asked as his dug his claws into the silky fabric of Dream's robe.

“No, Matthew... Still no luck.”

“How often did you try by now? 80 times? 90?”

“This was the 100th time.”

“Oh, shit.” Matthew cawed. “You know... I can't tell you what to do and what not to do, but... are you sure this is the right thing? I mean... he's always leaving as soon as he figures out that it's not real. And he looks so... so pained.”

Dream turned his head and let his gaze wander over the fictional landscape.
It was supposed to be a Mediterranean Island, but you would never find it in the Waking World, because this one had a path straight down to the Underworld.
Tonight Hob Gadling had saved his Dream from Hades' grasp like Orpheus had once tried to save his Eurydice. The difference was though, that Hob had succeeded.
Well, at least in this dream.

“He wishes to see him. More than anything. I'm only granting him, what his heart desires so loudly.”

“And that's very kind of you, but... humans shouldn't always get, what they want. Trust me, I've been one for a couple of years.”

Dream looked at his faithful crow with and amused twinkle in his eyes.

“I know, Matthew.”

“And I know, that you're only trying to be nice to him, but your gift is hurting him. Yes, he wants to see the boss again. I understand that. I really do. But this way, he's stuck. He can't move forward, leave his sorrow behind. And he's human. Can't die, but still human. He has to move on.”

Dream sighed deeply.

“You're right, Matthew. Ever since the funeral Hob Gadling is the one, who can't let go... By day my sister has caught him in her embrace and by night my... misguided kindness hurts him even more. I thought, that this way he could get a chance to say goodbye, but his unfulfilled wishes reshape the dreams every time...”

“And you let him”, Matthew dared to guess out loud.

Dream only inclined his head, leaving the accusation unanswered.

“Maybe it would be best to meet him on neutral ground. Talk to him instead of acting only on his heart's desire.”

“That could help.”

“Good. Tell Lucienne, that I'll be back soon.”

Matthew fluttered up as Dream began walking.

“You're going now, sire?”

“You know, what human say, don't you, Matthew? 'There's no time like the present.'”

---

Every day was the same.
Hob woke up at some godforsaken hour, cried for a bit, stood up and dragged himself through the day. Shower, coffee, opening the pub for brunch, closing at noon, reopening in the evening, closing at midnight, cleaning, shower, bed, repeat. In between he tried to feel nothing.

'Nothing' was good. It didn't hurt so much, when he woke up again from whatever insane dream the new Lord of the Dreaming had thrown him in.
Gods... if Hob only knew how he deserved this torture. Last time he met the guy, he could have sworn, that he actually liked him. Guess he had been wrong.

Hob turned off the shower and stepped out of the steaming cabin, wrapped in his fluffiest comfort towel. He wiped the water from the mirror and grabbed his razor.
Maybe he should shave completely again? A nice chance would-

“Hello, Hob Gadling.”

“Bloody hell!”

Hob spun around, the razor in his hand, ready to defend himself against... against...

“Oh. It's you.” He let his puny weapon drop into the sink behind him and rubbed his eyes. “I'm not asleep this time, am I?”

“No, you are not. I wanted to talk to you”, Dream said way too calm for someone, who had been threatened with a safety razor just a moment ago.

“Okay... sure. But could we do this not here? My bathroom is not the ideal place for a conversation. And... I need coffee.”

“Lead the way.”

Hob shook his head to clear his thoughts as he opened the small bathroom window to let the steam out, before guiding Dream outside.
It was worth mentioning, that the unannounced appearance of an Endless in his shower wasn't the strangest thing to ever happen to him. Still this called for coffee. Strong coffee.

“The kitchen is that way. Grab a chair, if you want to. I'll be with you in a moment”, Hob said as he walked towards his bedroom.

No need to have whatever conversation awaited him in a bath towel.

When he found himself presentable enough he joined Dream in the kitchen, where he found the young Lord fiddling with the basil on the table. As he saw Hob walk in, he greeted him with a tiny sheepish smile.

“Your basil is dying.”

“Basil always dies a week after you buy it. Don't know why don't give up and buy it dried and chopped like a normal person... Do you want coffee?”

He didn't really expect an answer, yet Dream cocked his head to the side, his brows drawn in cautious curiosity.

“I've never had coffee before.”

“Is that... a yes?”

“Yes.”

“...okay.”

Hob placed the bright red mug in front of Dream and shoved the bowl of sugar and milk can towards him as well.

“You can try out how you like it... if you like it”, he offered, nipping on his own inky black drink.

Dream – to Hob's utter astonishment – took a sip and immediately pulled a face. Then he grabbed sugar and milk and started dumping enormous amounts of it into the cup till it was filled to the brim. His next test seemed to leave him a bit more satisfied, even if he still didn't look happy.

“I am not sure if I like this”, Dream confessed.

Hob chuckled.

“You get used to the taste after a while.”

Dream put his cup down and looked at Hob with familiar dark eyes. Stars danced in their depth, calling for Hob, but their song wasn't as strong as it had been... before.

“You used to drink tea.”

Hob tried not to get annoyed by the use of his Dream's knowledge against him.

“Times change. Coffee is quicker and you can get it everywhere. Who has the time to make decent tea these days?”

“You have.”

“...I guess, I do.”

They let the conversation drift away from them as Hob finished his coffee in silence and Dream chose to ignore the rest of his.

“That's enough for pleasantries”, Hob said as he put the mugs into the sink. “What are you here for? It isn't time for our meeting and – as far as I know – there's currently no danger around... or is it?”

“The Dreaming is safe and so am I.”

“Good to hear. Then how do I deserve the pleasure of your visit?”

He sat back down and leaned his arms on the table. The coffee and this early morning shock had shunned away his fatigue for a moment, but he could still feel it lingering behind his back.

“I wanted to talk to you... about your dreams, Hob.”

Immediately Hob crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“What about them?”

The defensive tone in his voice seemed to make Dream... nervous.
It was a curious thing to watch.
Never in over 600 years had Hob seen his Dream ever get nervous. Angry, sure. Surprised even. But never nervous.
Guess this was another change to be added to the list, right under 'fucking finally drinks what he's been offered'.

“I am the King of Dreams and as such it is in my power to grant dreams or nightmares to whoever I decide”, Dream began explaining, obviously stalling for time. “And as such I can also give a dreamer what... his heart desires.”

“Ah.”

“For you, I thought-”

“I can stop you right there”, Hob interrupted him, the smile on his face a bit strained. “First: thank you for trying to fulfil my... desires or whatever, but please stop.”

Dream frowned a bit.

“You already said this to me in the Dreaming.”

“And I will do so until you stop and... leave me in peace. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but... it's not real, you see? You can't bring him back and seeing him every night, acting like you think I wanted him to, it's... it hurts. I don't want diminish your work, but in the end it's not real. He's... he's...”
Hob had to swallow a hot lump back down his throat, which dangerously tasted like coffee.
“He's dead. And nothing anyone could do can ever change that. So... please leave me alone. Let me grieve... for however long it may take. Don't try to sooth my pain by showing me a pale copy every night, because... it's not him. His story has ended. He's now somewhere, where I can't follow and... I'll have to learn to live with that. On my own.”

For a moment only silence filled the room, repeatedly interrupted by Hob's somewhat wet breathing.
The frown still remained on Dream's face as he let Hob's words sink in, hopefully grasping their meaning.

“I see...”, Dream said eventually. “It is like Fiddler's Green said: his death means nothing, if I bring him back. Even if it is just in your dream.”

Hob sighed.

“Yeah... that's certainly a way to put it.”

Dream nodded along, still deep in his own thoughts.

“When I brought back Abel and Merwin it was to undo the damage, which had been done. To sooth the ache in everybody's hearts. But I now see, that I'm making the same mistake again. If Fiddler's Green hadn't stopped me, I might have continued and brought Lord Morpheus back as well, denying him the meaning of his death. Instead I made you see him every night, never letting you truly rest. For that, I'm sorry, my friend.”

Something rattled in Hob's chest, but he paid it no mind. It was probably just his poor heart falling to pieces once again.

“Thank you...”, he said with a raspy voice.

And for a moment this was all, what was said.

For a moment...

“What do you mean 'you could've brought him back'?”

Notes:

Sooooo... the new Dream could've brought Morpheus back? ô_ô We'll see about that...

Also:
I used cursive for the new Dream, because he inherits now the creepy voice [TM]. :D I hope, you like it.
Won't drop too much comic lore in here. There's no need for that.

Chapter 3: Dangerous Games

“Did you just say... that you could bring him back?”

“I... That is not, what I-”

“That's what you said, right?”

The nervousness was back on Dream's face and twice as intense this time. The sudden change in Hob's demeanour made him lean back in his chair a bit and observe the other as if he was unsure what Hob would do next.

Well, what would he do?

Hob was pretty sure, that he hadn't misheard, nor misinterpreted the words of the Dream King and if this was true... oh boy, that changed a lot!

“I don't know for sure if I could bring him back, if I tried”, Dream began slowly, clasping his hands on the table. “But that is beside the point, Hob. Fiddler's Green had been right. I shouldn't even attempt to bring him back. He has died, yet he died for love. For his son. For his kingdom.”

Hob furrowed his brows as he leaned forward.

“Those words sound suspiciously not like your own. A bit too stiff, too morally high for someone, who's still trying to find out what moral even is”, he said, choosing ever word carefully.

He got, what he aimed for.
Dream looked deeply offended.

“How dare you-”

“You have his memory, don't you? I dare to say what's on my mind. Always did and I don't intend to stop.”

Curiously enough the words stopped Dream's anger before it even started.
Another sign, that half of his act was just for show. This was a new Dream, pretending to be the old one. And he clearly wasn't.

If this had been Hob's Dream, he would have been out of the door by now and nothing Hob could've said would have stopped him.
Hob knew that he was playing a dangerous game here, but as soon as he had heard the other say those words, he had known, that he would do everything in his power to change Dream's mind.

“Listen... you got this job for only a few months. And before that you were a literal baby. I don't blame you for still figuring out what to do and what to say to whom and when. That's fine by me, even if you sometimes make mistakes or repeat words others have said to you. It's okay. You're growing into it.”

Hob took a deep breath.
On the other side of the table Dream looked rather like a scolded child than like an almighty entity.
It was risky.
Way too risky.
If he said only one wrong thing the whole thing might tip over and break. He needed the young Dream to be on his side and maybe he would... he could...

“I've talked to Lucienne... back at the funeral. About how you brought back Abel, because his brother asked you to. They were so happy to be reunited, weren't they? And Merwin had also been so grateful. Right?”

Dream inclined his head a tiny bit, a fracture of a nod, a small sign of agreement.

“Yes, Fiddler's Green rather stayed dead and that's his decision, but... you haven't asked him, did you? Didn't as him, if he wanted to stay dead or come back.”

At these word Dream's eyes locked with his.

“I don't need to ask him. I am him”, he said calmly.

“Except that's not entirely true, is it?”, Hob challenged him. “You have his power. From what I've heard, you're even more powerful than he ever was. You have his memories. You're the King of the Dreaming. Dream of the Endless.”

Hob let himself fall back in his chair without breaking the eye contact.

“But you're not the one, who talked to me back than in that stinking old pub. You're not the one, who I've been meeting once every hundred years. You're not the one, who rather stormed off, than admit that we were friends. You're not the one, with whom... I talked about life and love... and loss. Are you?”

At this Dream's eyelids fluttered, before he looked away.

“I have all of his memories... and more. I know, what he thought at every second of his existence. What he felt. But it... is like a story somebody read to me. It is all mine, yet those are not my experiences”, Dream confessed.

“And that matters. Because this way you won't repeat his mistakes.”

“I make new ones.”

An unexpected chuckle escaped Hob's lips.

“That's also true... but as I've said: you're still learning.”

His laugh was answered and he could feel the mood shift to something calmer.
Dream started fiddling with the basil again. Maybe just, so he didn't have to look at Hob.

“What do you want, Hob Gadling?”, he asked suddenly, his voice steady yet serene.

There was only one answer to that question.

“I want him back.”

“Hob...”

“I know, that I've said, that I would learn to live without him, but that... was just a lie. Because I know, that I can't. I chose not to die, when your sister asked me back then, but to be honest, a part of me already died, when I learned, that he...”

Hob's voice broke and it took a second for him to clear his throat, rub his eyes and pull himself back together.

“It's... a selfish request, I know. But that's who I am. Greedy to a fault. I want him to live, to see him again... even if it's only once every hundred years. Please, I... I don't need to tell you, how I feel about him, do I? You already know. Otherwise...” Despite the tears in the corners of his eyes Hob managed to smirk. “... you wouldn't have send me that dream, who looked like him.”

Dream obviously tried his best not to look ashamed.

“But what about his story. He chose to die to pay for the sin of killing his son. He knew what it would bring. It is a fitting end for the Prince of Stories.”

“Is it? Really? Death is and always has been a mug's game. There is nothing noble about dying. Only in living, because that's when you can actually do things.”

As Dream crossed his arms in front of his chest, Hob knew, that things weren't looking good for him. Yet he refused to give up.

“So you want me to bring back a member of the Endless just to sooth your broken mortal heart?”

“Practically immortal”, Hob insisted. “And... yes... and no. Yes, I want you to bring him back. Please. At least try, but... not for me... not only for me. But for him. When we met for the last time, we talked. He obviously didn't really tell me what was going on. Never did. Always the mysterious bastard... but it was clear, that he'd been stuck in a mess, from which he couldn't escape. Not by himself and – as it proved in the end – not even with all the help of those close to him.”

Hob watched calmly as Dream turned a part of his attention back to the half-dead basil.

“I don't have his memories, but I'd bet all my remaining years on this planet, that he didn't want to die. You know it, so you can answer this yourself. He wouldn't have fought till the very last moment, when he just could've as well given up. He wanted to live, didn't he? Tell me. I'm right, aren't I? So screw this whole 'he died for his kingdom' and shit, because he didn't want to die. And... isn't that enough to give him another chance? If it is in your power to bring him back, shouldn't you at least try?... Please?”

He knew, that he was grasping for straws here, trying to manipulate a being far more powerful than him into fulfilling him his wish against all better judgement.
Who knew, what would happen, if Dream brought back his former self? Could the world even handle two personifications of Dreams at once? What if Hob was just full of himself and his Dream denied coming back like Fiddler's Green had?
Hob didn't know.
All he knew was, that he had to find out, if only for the slim chance of seeing him again.

“You're a dangerous man, Hob Gadling”, Dream said eventually. “Others of my siblings would have struck you down half an hour ago for our impertinence.”

“I think, he would have, too”, Hob said with a tired smile.

“I... can't say for sure, what was going on in his head and his heart, when he took our sister's hand in the end. All I know is, that his last days had been dark and troubled. So much chaos... so much pain... it seems cruel to reawake him from his eternal slumber...”

“Then put the blame on me!” Hob rose from his chair and leaned heavily on the table. “Let him blame me. Let your sister blame me, if she asks, who's responsible for all this. But please... please... try... please... at least try... to bring him back. I... I'd give everything just to see him one more time...”

Tears ran down his cheeks and Hob did nothing to stop them.
He was so tired.

“You were right”, Dream answered slowly. “It is a selfish and greedy thing to ask of me.”

Hob felt his knees wobble.

“But I will try to grant your wish.”

His head shot back up so quickly that the whole room spun around him.

“I will be honest with you, Hob. I, too, wish to bring him back, but I haven't dared, because of what it might cause. I thought about it almost every second of my existence and I still don't know if it can be done... but I want to try.”

Dream stood up as well and walked over to Hob, who was by now swaying from pure exhaustion.

“Meet me in my realm tonight. At the far corner of the desert, where all dreams and nightmares are born. And... bring something, which belonged to him. We might need it.”

“O-Okay...”

Dream put a hand on Hob's shoulder.

“Thank you, my friend.”

“For what?”

“For talking me into this.”

Hob laughed weakly.

“'s alright. I don't know, when to qui-”

The world tilted to the side and all lights out.
Surprisingly strong arms stopped him from bashing his head on the kitchen tiles and Hob simply thought to himself:
'Oh well. Guess I'll be back at the Dreaming earlier than expected.'

Notes:

Uuuuugh... that was A LOT of dialogue. But I couldn't have Dream give up that easily.
Well! Now we're on our way to ressurect a very certain moody dream.
I'm curious how that will turn out... (I'm not. I already know, what will happen. XDDD)

Thanks to everyone, who commented on my story so far and who gave it kudos and who bookmarked it.
This really means a lot to me. ^^
When I started this story, I knew that the response wouldn't be immense, but I treasure every one of you. ♥
Please stay with me. This ride has only just begun. :D

Chapter 4: The Unexpected

Hob opened his eyes and found himself in the strangest desert he'd ever seen. Which was to say something, because in the course of the last hundreds of years Hob had travelled every country, over every ocean, through every cave and, well... through every desert.
But the dark grey plane of sand and some occasional rocks wasn't something to be found on earth.
A sure sign, that he'd reached his destination.

He turned in every direction, looking for the young king in white.
Obviously his robes turned out to be a perfect camouflage, because Hob didn't see him approach, until he was standing right next to him.
That, or he had just appeared on the spot like he always did.
Like he had done as well.

“Hey, you”, Hob greeted him. “Slight change of plans, I guess.”

“It is alright... Maybe it's even better, if we do this now and wait no longer.”

“Because you might get cold feet?”

Dream didn't take the bait.

“Because we might get interrupted otherwise... or stopped, before I can even begin”, Dream said in a serious tone. More serious than normal.

“Oh...”

Hob didn't want to think about, who or what could try to stop the Lord of Dreams in his own realm. Maybe his siblings. Maybe the furies. Maybe something much worse.
Yeah, he definitely didn't want to think about it.

“I... uhm... I'm sorry.” Hob rubbed the back of his head. “You told me to bring something of his and now we're here so suddenly... believe me, I didn't plan on going out like a light. I just...”

“Don't worry about it. I could feel your exhaustion even when we were talking in the Waking World. You didn't get enough rest lately and for this I'm sorry.”

Hob made a dismissive gesture.

“Don't bother. A couple of bad nights won't kill me.”

He grinned mischievously at Dream, yet he kept his thoughts to himself.

Even if Hob would have been granted a hundred sweet dreams and long nights of sleep, he knew that would still feel thin like glass and brittle like dust ready so be blown apart by the slightest thing.
He had felt like this for months.
Tired. Listless. Joy was a rare guest in his heart.

Jesse called it a depressive episode, caused by a traumatic event.
Hob called it the death of his Dream.

To some extend it was almost bizarre.
Hob had buried dozen wives, children and partners, yet it still never wrecked him like this. Not even those horrible 80 years, which had followed the death of his Eleanor and Robyn had smothered his heart and mind like this.
Maybe it was, because he never thought, that someone like the King of Dreams could simply... die. It was as if someone had told him, that the moon had fallen from the sky.
Just like this.
Impossible.

And yet here they were.
Him next to the new Dream.
Ready to resurrect the old one.

Hob cleared his throat as he noticed, that he had fallen silent.
Managed another weary smile.

“Okay, how are going to do this? Are you going to let me wake up, so I can grab something, or...?”

“There's no need for this. If it once belonged to Lord Morpheus then you can simply summon it to this realm by picturing it in your mind.”

“That should be easy. Give me a second.”

He closed his eyes and went through the few keepsakes he had from his Dream.
There was the bottle of the Château Lafite. Had emptied the remaining wine in one go the day Audrey had died.
Then the coat, top hat and gloves, Dream had left in 1889, when he had stormed off.
And that's about it.
He had also kept the crude drawing Lady Constantine had used to track them down, but he highly doubted, that it would be useful.

In the end he chose the coat.
The moment he imagined the heavy wool he already held it in his arms. It still smelled like rain. Somehow that never had faded.

“Is this good enough?”

Hob hesitantly offered the coat to Dream, who took it with a smile. Parting from the clothing felt strange, like losing his Dream once more.
Thankfully it didn't hurt so much.

“I remember this coat”, Dream said, still smiling softly.

“I remember that night”, Hob added.

The smile faded a bit and Hob kicked himself mentally for being an asshole. He knew, who the young man in front of him was, and he knew pretty well, that he hadn't been the one to break Hob's heart all these years ago.

“Sorry...”, he mumbled, eyes turned down.

“I understand. And... I know, that he very much regretted his actions of that time.”

Hob only nodded and watched as Dream gently spread out the coat on the soft grey ground.
Then he stepped back and took a deep breath.

“Before I begin, I must confess, that I don't intend to bring back Lord Morpheus as he had been.”

“What?”

Ice rushed down Hob's veins and his eyes grew big as he heard these words, but before he could say more, Dream held up his hand.

“I won't change anything about his being or his memories, but I have to keep his power as Ruler of the Dreaming and as an Endless. I don't know what would happen if there were suddenly two... Dreams and I highly doubt that it wouldn't cause severe problems. So I'm keeping his power to shape dreams and nightmares, his status as an Endless, his title as King of Dreams and Prince of Stories. He won't be able to walk the Dreaming unless he's asleep in your world.”

“What about... his immortality?”

Dream leaned his head to the side, thinking deeply.

“I will try to let him keep it, but I can't guarantee for it.”

“O...okay...”

“Then let us begin.”

It was nice, that Dream had said 'us' as if Hob wasn't standing next to him, feeling useless like candle next to the sun.

Sand started flowing as the Dream of the Endless raised his hand. A small whirlwind carried up the coat, wrapped it around the dust-coloured cloud.
Hob gasped silently as he saw the sand take a familiar shape. Long limbs, dark hair and fair skin. The figure was dressed in a simple black shirt and pants, well-used boots. His eyes were closed as his body hovered a couple of inches above the ground, then it descended softly and the old coachman's coat draped itself around his shoulders.

For a moment Hob didn't even dare to breath as he just stared in this face. A face he had thought to never see again in his life.

Next to him Dream sighed deeply and let his hand sink back down.

“It is done.”

Hob wanted to ask, what would happen now. If his Dream was already awake or if there was something else they needed to-

His Dream opened his eyes and glared at them.

“How dare you.”

The words were harsh, yet Hob felt tears crawl up his throat as he heard this familiar voice.
Maybe it had... lost a bit of its depth and unearthly sound, but it was still his voice.

His Dream took a step towards them, eyes dark – but without stars in them – and eyebrows drawn in anger. It took everything for Hob not to shy away in the face of such fury.

“I shouldn't be back”, Hob's Dream growled. “I have paid the price for what I have done. I gave my life to sooth the Kindly Ones and save my... this kingdom. Why have you brought me back? This is dangerous.”

“I know, what I'm doing”, Dream of the Endless countered, straightening up to compensate for the slight height difference between them.

“You clearly don't. Otherwise you wouldn't jeopardize the Dreaming and everyone within it so carelessly.”

“Watch your tone. You are no longer king of this realm... Morpheus.”

It was strange to see the young Dream being so serious. Hob could still detect a bit of nervousness in the way he clasped his hands behind his back, but for the moment he behaved as well as he could.
He was the Dream of the Endless... and Hob's Dream was not.

This was not lost to the other, who now took a moment to look at himself, hold up his hands to his face as if he was seeing them for the first time.

“...you're right...”, he eventually said so quietly Hob could barely hear him. “I'm not, who I was before...”

“You still are in every aspect that counts.”

“Am I though? I feel so... powerless... separated from the Dreaming like... when I was captured...”

Hob didn't need to ask, what his Dream meant. Never in a thousand years would he forget how his Dream told him about his imprisonment.
Did this really feel the same for him now?
By the gods... what had Hob done?

It was this moment his Dream finally seemed to notice him.

“Hob...” Oh, how he had missed to hear him say his name. “What is the meaning of this? Are you part of this folly?”

“It was Hob's wish to bring you back.”

Oh, now he was pushing the blame onto him! Wonderful.

“Hey... my friend”, Hob greeted him and really wished that his voice would sound a bit steadier. “It's right... I... I asked him...”

A confused look appeared on his Dreams face.

“But why? Surely you understand why I did, what I did. It was necessary”, he said, speaking slowly as if he was talking to a stubborn toddler.

“I know!”, Hob interrupted him, before he could lose his last bit of courage. “Of course I understand... but... that doesn't mean, that I can accept it.”

“Hob...”

“No. Let me speak. Please.” Hob took a shaky breath. “They explained it to me. Your siblings. Your sister told me the whole story and... you know how I think about death. It happens to the best of us, but yours...” His voice broke, but he still went on. “It wasn't fair.”

His Dream had the decency to look surprised.

“You just did the right thing. You granted your son his final wish. That alone make you better than half of humanity and to... to punish you for this... this act of kindness... of love... it's not fair. You sacrificed yourself to save your friends and the whole of the Dreaming. You even prepared an heir to take over when you're gone. You did all the things, which are good and right and noble, so... why shouldn't we bring you back? Nobody deserves a second chance more than you. Didn't you bring back that nightmare of yours, too? So why should this be any different? Hm?”

Hob hadn't noticed how his voice had gotten louder as he spoke, bordering on shouting as he threw these questions at his Dream.

This wasn't how he thought this would go.
Well, to be honest, he hadn't thought about it at all. Too afraid to imagine this plan failing.
But he really hadn't expected his Dream to be... angry.

At least his words seemed to have calmed the other down a bit for the moment as he stepped slowly closer, the anger on his face turned into... sadness? Pity?

“My friend...”

For a moment Hob hoped, that he would hug him or at least put a hand on his shoulder, but his Dream stopped right in front on him, within arm's reach, still not touching him.

“My story is over, Hob. It doesn't matter if it was fair.” He turned towards his successor. “Let me go. You are now Dream. There is no need for me to exist anymore.”

“No!”

Hob did something he'd only ever dreamed about. He took his Dream's hand to make him look at him again.

“Please. Please don't go.”

“Hob...”

“How can I change your mind?”

“You can't.”

“Just let me try...”

His Dream opened his mouth, probably to object once more, as another voice interrupted them.

“Hob Gadling. ...Morpheus. This dispute is pointless. Your argument is very convincing, Hob, but I am not the one, who needs to believe you. He is.”

“Don't I get the final say about my fate?”, the one now simply called Morpheus asked.

Dream seemed to consider this for a moment and Hob felt his heart beat so loudly in his chest, he was sure the others could hear it, too.

“No.”

The answer was short and left Morpheus gasping in surprise.

“You have no right-”

“I have all the rights I need”, Dream interrupted him, his whole demeanour suddenly so similar to Morpheus old self it made Hob shudder. “I recreated you. You're a being of the Dreaming and so you're my responsibility. It's for me to decide your fate. Do you understand, Morpheus?”

For a moment Hob was afraid that Morpheus might oppose him again, but then the other lowered his head, lips drawn into a silent frown.
Hob still stared at him in awe and a certain amount of fear. His old friend had never let himself be seen as the powerful being he was, but now he saw a glimpse of that power in the new Dream.
Just for a moment, then his usual uncertainty flickered through and Hob could breath again.

Dream pulled himself together a second later, with Morpheus not having seen this slip.

“Morpheus, you are more than a simple dream. More than a human. Yet I confess, that I created you weaker than before to safe the Dreaming and its inhabitants from possible harm. There are no two Dream of the Endless, but Dream and Morpheus. And as such we shall exist. ...but...”

The steadiness of his voice faltered for a moment and Morpheus looked up to him.
Dream was now back to his usual self, soft and kind with curious eyes and – in this moment – sympathy on his face.
For a second he cast Hob an apologetic glance, which he couldn't quite understand, as...

“I won't force you to live a life you don't want”, Dream continued, holding up his hand so no one would interrupt him. “At least not... for long. I give you seven days. Seven days in the Waking World to see life like you've never known it. Like we both never have known it. Hob will be your guide and guardian. In seven days we will meet again and you will tell me, if you still wish to cease existing. This is... what I offer you.”

For a moment Morpheus was silent, the look on his face still a dark one.

“And what if I decline your offer?”, he finally asked.

Hob feared for the worst, but Dream just smiled at the rude question.

“Then I shall order you to.”, he said. “Live, Morpheus. You deserve it.”

He turned to Hob, his smile a bit less steady, as he put a hand on Hob's shoulder.

“Take care, my friend. Of him and of yourself. We'll see each other in your dreams.”

Notes:

Oof, this chapter fought me a bit. ^^°
But now here we are!
Morpheus gets to live for seven days under Hob's care.
This will be a fun week. :D

Btw. I almost had a cats-on-the-keyboard-accident while writing. XDDD
I left the room for just a moment and when I came back my two floofballs wre on the table, opening new tabs and stuff. Thankfully they left my story alone. XD
I'll learn from this almost-disaster.

Chapter 5: Day One

When he opened his eyes this time, Hob found himself back in his kitchen. On the floor, to be precisely.
It wasn't the most comfortable place, but at least his old bones didn't feel as if he'd fallen down. Dream must have laid him on the floor, when he'd blacked out. Nice of him. Hob really would have hated to wake up with a bump on his head or worse.

Said floor was still not that comfortable. The tiles were kind of cold and Hob was sure, that his old war scars would start acting badly if he didn't get back up soon.
He raised his head and and wanted to lean on his right hand for support, but... it was already occupied.

All the air escaped Hob's lungs as he noticed the body lying next to him, black hair peeking out under a huge black coachman's coat.

It hadn't been a dream.
Well, it had been, but now it was real.
His Dream... Morpheus was back.

As quietly as he could Hob leaned over to the over to get a glance at his face, still not letting go of his hand... which wasn't warm, but a bit cool.
Morpheus' eyes were still closed, yet his brows were drawn in a deep frown. Was he still in the Dreaming? Arguing with his successor?
For a moment Hob was tempted to wake him, but he held himself back. Dream would let him go, when he felt the time was right, Hob was sure about this.
Till then he could watch Morpheus sleep a bit.

It may have not been the nicest thing to stare at him, while he wasn't conscious, but Hob couldn't help himself. He had missed this face, despite having seen it on several dreams each night.
But they hadn't been him, had they?
They didn't carry this scowl, the corners of their mouths weren't turned down in constant disapproval, they didn't look as if they carried the weight of the world in each step.
No, they had been... happy.
Hob would've loved nothing more than to see his Dream happy for once. Truly and unburdenedly happy.
Maybe...

The other stirred and a low – very unhappy – moan escaped his lips just before he opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling.
Should Hob... greet him? What should he say? Maybe something funny like 'Good morning, sunshine'? No, too cheesy. 'Welcome to the rest of your life'? Ugh, that was worse.
Before he could decide, Morpheus turned his head in his direction and glared at him.

“You.”

No greeting. Not even Hob's name. Just one word, three letters and more disgust than 1889.
What a lovely start.

“Hey”, was the only thing he could answer in return as Morpheus pulled his hand away and staggered to his feet.

Hob did the same, brushed off the dust from his clothes and tried desperately to smile at the other.
Morpheus didn't waste a second to spin around to Hob in fury.

“You've captured me!”, he accused him.

“I did not! I... we brought you back! From being dead, Morpheus!”

The name felt a bit strange on his tongue, but that wasn't the biggest of his problems right now.

“You had no right!”

“Well... yeah... I didn't. But-”

“And now I am what? Your prisoner?”

Hob's mouth fell open and he needed a moment to recover from this insult.

“You're... I'm not... Are you kidding me?” He felt anger rise in himself as well. “I've used everything I have to persuade that guy to bring you back and you have the gall to accuse me of keeping you prisoner? Are you out of your mind?”

“Am I not bound to you? Were you not called to be my 'guardian'?”

“To protect you, you bloody oaf!”

“I don't need protection.”

“Yeah, sure. You can look after yourself just fine. Worked out brilliantly the last time, didn't it?”

Now it was up to Morpheus to fall silent. He stared daggers at Hob instead, but at least he didn't yell anymore.
Hob sighed deeply and rubbed his face. He was so tired...

“Listen...”, he tried again in a mostly calm voice. “Yes, I didn't have 'the right' to bring you back. I... just missed you. I missed you every day for three months now. Every minute. Every bloody second. So, when this new Dream let it slip, but he might be able to bring you back, I... just couldn't help myself. I had to try. A part of me isn't that proud of manipulating him, you know? He's still young in a way. Bit green behind his ears. But... I had to.”

He looked back up at Morpheus, who had seemed to have lost at least some of his anger.

“It all went so quickly. One moment I was sitting at this table trying to lie to him and myself, that I could deal with you being... being gone. And the next moment we were already in the Dreaming and he was doing this... summoning, or whatever it was.” He shook his head in disbelieve. “You can't tell me that the boy hadn't it all already planned out. He was as eager to get you back as I was. Well... maybe not quite as much, but you get it.”

Morpheus didn't say anything and Hob wasn't quite sure, if he should feel relieved or insulted. He had poured his heart out and and this guy was just standing there in silence.
Hob sighed again.

“Okay. Right. You're not yelling at me anymore, so I take this as a good sign. Now, what do you want to-”

A loud growl interrupted him. The noise came from... Morpheus' stomach.
The former Dream King looked appalled as he pressed a hand over his belly in the fruitless attempt to smother the growl.
Hob just stared at him, eyes wide open.

“Oh... well...”, he eventually said with an amused smile. “Guess we'll have to delay you yelling at me till after breakfast.”

“I don't need food.”

Hob raised an eyebrow, as he was already turning towards the fridge.

“Didn't sound like it”, he said, opening the fridge door. “You know, Dream had said, that you're more than a dream and more than a human. We'll have to figure out what the hell that's supposed to mean, but I think breakfast is a good start for it. Hm... how about a good traditional English breakfast as your first meal in this world?”

A glance over his shoulder told him, that Morpheus was still standing next to the table, pouting.
Hob smiled to himself.
What a bizarre morning.

At least at some point Morpheus sat down, while Hob fried some eggs, bacon and sausages.
He hadn't made something like that in ages. Most of his friends these days thought it to be too touristy and way too much for a normal person to eat, but Hob still liked it. It wasn't such an old dish – at least not from his perspective – but Hob would have loved to eat this every morning, when he was still a poor bloke back a few hundreds of years.

The small kitchen quickly filled with the heavy smell of food and Hob couldn't help but smirk as he caught Morpheus glancing curiously at the pans and pots.
Thankfully it didn't take long and he could serve Morpheus a plate with a small mountain of what Hob liked best in an English breakfast: beans, toast, bacon, fried eggs and sausages. He didn't even forget the small cut in half tomato at the side.
If Morpheus managed to eat it all, Hob would be more than surprised.

“Enjoy your meal”, he said with a smile as he sat down opposite of Morpheus and served them both a glass of orange juice.

Hob still felt tired, but brewing coffee after this intense cooking in the morning seemed too much effort right now. Maybe he would grab one to go later.
As for Morpheus... Dream hadn't liked coffee and Hob didn't feel like testing his luck and having Morpheus try it so soon. So orange juice it was.

For a moment Hob had been concerned, that Morpheus might not know how to eat, but either enough dreamers had dreamed about food in his realm or there was a time when even this stick of a man actually ate.
Right now he was sniffing at a spoonful of beans before actually and finally showing it in his mouth.
Hob could've sighed with relieve, but he was busy digging in as well.

For all that mattered, he really liked a heavy breakfast. It was just, that he rarely found the time for it. But today he would take this time. This was Morpheus' first day in this realm and Hob was set on making it the best day ever.
...whatever that might even mean.

It didn't take long enough till Morpheus wasn't quietly eating, but quietly pushing the food around on the plate. He hadn't eaten as much as Hob would've liked, but at least more than he'd anticipated.
As for himself... Hob had barely eaten something those last few weeks. He either had worked or slept and hoped not to dream. In between he had simply... existed.

Jesse had been concerned with him losing too much weight, but Hob had brushed it off again and again. Now here he was with his stomach shrunken through the lack of food and barely got one more bite down, before he felt sick.

“Yeah... that was a bit too much”, he tried to cover it with humour. “Breakfast's delicious, but a bit mighty. You're full as well? We could pack up the rest and eat it on the way. I'll be honest, I have nothing planned for today, but perhaps you have anywhere you want to go? Maybe the classics? Buckingham Palace? The Tower?”

“I already know these places. There is nothing in this city, nor this world I haven't seen. This is pointless.”

The first words Morpheus said to him in over half an hour and it already put him down again. Hob tried desperately to keep the smile on his face.

“Alright, then what is it you want to do? What would you normally do in your free time?”

Morpheus frowned at him.

“I don't have time to spare. My duties used to keep me busy all the time.”

“You had time for a drink with me every hundred years”, Hob kindly reminded him.

“That was part of a wager.”

Ouch.
Now Hob was sure, that Morpheus intently tried to hurt him. It was no surprise. If he really saw this as his prison and Hob as his warden, then there was no need for him to play nice.
It still stung.

The smile on Hob's lips wavered, so he stood up instead to put away the dishes.

“Last time we talked, you implied, that it only started as a wager, but at some point we became friends... no matter how long it took you to realize”, Hob said with a bit forced cheerfulness.

“Last time we spoke I had been under the impression, that this was true.”

Hob swallowed thickly as Morpheus stared at him, his face unreadable.

“And now?”, he asked despite better judgement.

Morpheus turned his head towards the window, releasing Hob from the hold of his stare.

“Now... I'm not so sure anymore.”

It was a whisper, not a yell, still Hob felt himself flinch back at those words.
How was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to survive seven days of constant malicious coldness, if that was how Morpheus decided to behave?

He excused himself with a mumble and a stutter and fled to the bathroom. Inside he leaned heavily on the paint-chipping wood, hands pressed over his face.

This was a mistake.
He hadn't thought this through.

Hob had believed... had hoped that he could show Morpheus how wonderful life could be and how much there was to live for, but right now... hiding in his own bathroom, shivering and trying to suppress the sobs, which fought to be released...
How could he show his friend the good sides of life, when his own hadn't felt worth living for months?

Notes:

Yeah, Morpheus is a little shit right now. But he has his reason, doesn't he?
We'll see how Hob can turn this thing around... or if he can...

Chapter 6: Despair and Hope

It took Hob half an hour to calm himself enough, that he was ready to face Morpheus once more.
Or at least he hoped so.

Hell, those words had cut deep, but that wasn't even the worst part.
The most horrible thing was, that Hob... agreed with him.
This had been an insane plan from the beginning and a selfish one on top of it. He had ran head over heels at the only chance to get Morpheus back, consequences be damned. Not once that night he had stopped to think about what he'd do, when he actually got him back. Or what he would do, if Morpheus opposed him.
He hadn't thought. Fullstop.

Now he had an angry former god sitting in his kitchen, who didn't want the things Hob could offer him... or even Hob himself.

'Be careful what you wish for. It might come true.'
This old saying should have been his warning, but Hob had ignored it deliberately.

Quietly he opened the bathroom door and sneaked back down the hallway towards the kitchen, just to find it... empty.
For a second he felt adrenaline rush through his veins.
Was Morpheus gone? Had he left the house or was he gone for real? Again?
But then he heard the rustling of cloth from the living room and followed the noise without a second thought.

Morpheus stood in front of the fireplace, his hand raised towards the big mirror, which hung above it. The fire wasn't on, but Hob couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't too warm for Morpheus, who still wore his old coat.

He didn't know how to approach the other. Should he simply talk to him or come closer?

At this very moment it was Morpheus, who spoke first.

“Since when is my sister here?”

“What?”

A bit panicked Hob looked around the room, expecting to see Death, but the living room was empty as ever.

“What are you talking about?”, he asked again as he turned back to Morpheus, who caressed the sleek surface of the mirror.

“Despair”, Morpheus said almost gently. “I can feel her looking through this mirror. Watching you. I can't see, nor talk to her, but I know, that she's been here for some time.”

Hob opened and closed his mouth several times, completely lost for words.
Oh, he had very much an inkling since when the Endless had been here. No, that wasn't the whole truth. It was more likely, that she had been in his house several times over the last centuries, but he was pretty sure, that he could roughly pinpoint the beginning of her newest visit.

The hand still on the mirror Morpheus now turned his face towards Hob. His eyes may not have been filled with stars anymore, but they still bore into Hob as if he was made of glass with all his secrets clearly for Morpheus to see.
Hob took half a step back in a feeble attempt to hide. With horror he saw his own face in the mirror and realized, that he didn't smile.

Since Morpheus had been brought back Hob had given his best to try and stay cheerful. He had wanted to show the other the good sides of life to make him stay, but hardly a couple of hours and he had already run out of energy.

“Hob...”

He had ever been weak to the way Morpheus called his name, but right now he felt like his knees would give up any moment.
Oh, he was so tired...

“Sorry...”, he simply said, cringing a bit as he heard the roughness of his voice. “I may not be the best guy in town right now to show you how beautiful life is. I... won't say, I regret bringing you back, even if it was all rushed and selfish and... I don't regret it. Never will. It's just... you have every right to hate me for doing this to you, but... I can't bear it. Sorry. It's... sorry...”

Hob turned on the spot and left the room. Hesitating for a moment in the hallway, he instinctively decided to head down the stairs and out of the house.
This was too much. Again.

Of course he had told Morpheus, that he had missed him and the the time without him had been hard, but he hadn't expected the embodiment of despair itself to pry on him, just because he was having a rough few weeks... or months... which were maybe rougher than before.

He left the house and walked straight down the street.
The cold and damp air of early November bit in his skin. Only now Hob's mind cleared enough to make him realize, that he had left his house without jacket and without shoes. Thankfully this was still London, so a man shoeless man wasn't anything people batted an eye about.
So he kept walking.
Until...

“Hob. Hob!”

For a split second Hob was tempted to walk even faster, but he was freezing and his feet felt as if they were made of ice. So instead he stopped and breathed deeply.

“What do you want, Morpheus? That I apologize to you? Won't do that. If this feels like a prison to you, you can fuck off for the week and try to find the meaning of life yourself. Guess I'll meet you back in the Dreaming or something...”

“Hob...”

“What?”

He almost flinched as he felt a heavy coat, which strangely smelt like rain, land on his shoulders.
As he lifted his head he saw Morpheus standing next to him, his ever serious look on his face.

“I may have been too harsh to you”, Morpheus said, making Hob snort in amusement.

“You think?”

This left the other weirdly... insecure? It looked close to the inexperienced nervousness the new Dream sometimes wore, but not quite.

“I'm not good at apologizing...”, he continued and Hob suppressed the urge to interrupt him again. “But I think some sincere words might be needed right now. Let's go back. You may not die from the cold, but you still can get sick... and maybe so can I now.”

The look on his face told Hob, that Morpheus was really not eager to test how human he was now.
They both went rather quickly back to the house and soon enough they found themselves on Hob's old couch, wrapped in all the blankets they had found.

“It wasn't right for me to let out my anger on you”, Morpheus said eventually. “You have acted with good intentions and very... human.”

Hob chuckled at the way the other said the word as if it was an alien slug or something.

“I accept your reasoning and that you didn't want to cause me or the Dreaming any harm, but... I still can't condone what Dream and you have done. It was dangerous. The Kindly Ones might choose to seek vengeance against me or the Dreaming once more. I may not be, what I was before, but I'm uncertain if this will stop them.”

Wrapped cosily in his blankets Hob felt his body grow heavy, but he fought the feeling as well as he could.

“We'll handle that problem, if it comes to it”, Hob said calmly. “There are too many 'what ifs' and 'maybes' in your worries. This time you have me around. I won't let them hurt you again.”

“But what if I'm right? Or what if my siblings decide to pay you a visit? Despair already has her eyes on you. A mortal shouldn't draw the attention of the Endless.”

“Well, first: it's way too late for that, because I already know your family. And second: it's still 'almost immortal', okay?”

“Hob...”

“I mean it. I'm not afraid. Not of your siblings and not of some weird fate ladies. I might not have been prepared for all this, but I won't back down, when things get rough. If... if you want me there, I'll be by your side.”

Maybe he was really getting sleepy, but Hob could have sworn, that he's seen a small smile on Morpheus' lips.

“Thank you... my friend.”

“Oh, so now I'm your friend again?”, Hob dared to tease him.

“I misspoke out of anger. For that, I apologize.”

Hob closed his eyes for a moment, cherishing those words.

“Maybe I really can convince you, that life isn't that bad, if I already got you to apologize on day 1.”

“Didn't you say, that you weren't the best guide for this mission?”

“Hey. Don't use a man's rough state against him. I may be not my usual cheery self, but I still haven't given up, have I? And I still think life's worth living. I can show you.”

A big yawn ripped itself from his throat and Hob nestled a bit deeper into his mountain of blankets.

“Just give me a moment”, he continued, his voice slurring a bit. “It's been a long night and an even longer morning...”

“Sleep, Hob Gadling. I promise, I'll be here, when you wake.”

“That's nice, but I wanted to show you...”

The sentence was left unfinished as Hob slipped away into well-needed and thankfully dreamless sleep.

Notes:

A shorter one this time, but now they're back on track.
Let's begin the mission 'show Morpheus what it means to life'. :D

Chapter 7: On His Own

For a moment Morpheus sat in silence next to Hob's sleeping form.
It was strange to see a human actually sleep. Normally Morpheus met them either, when they were awake or when they were in his realm. But to see Hob lying almost peacefully on the couch, his head resting against soft cushions, it was... new.

In his sleep Hob almost looked at ease.
Almost.
It had been quite a surprise for Morpheus to find out, that his younger sister was watching him, but the way Hob had reacted to these news told Morpheus, that his friend at least was aware of his mental and emotional state. He had even briefly suggested, that Morpheus may find someone else to show him the 'meaning of life' as he put it.

In the solitude of his own mind Morpheus could confess to himself, that he didn't want anyone else to guide him through this week, no matter how useless this whole task felt to him. He would go back to being nothing, that was for sure. Even... even if he'd hurt his friend by doing so.

Humans weren't that familiar to Morpheus despite having watched over their dreams for millennia. People acted different in the Dreaming, weirder sometimes and Hob... he hadn't watched Hob's dreams in a long time. It had felt wrong, like a breach of privacy... yet maybe it would have helped him to detect the sorrow in Hob's heart before it had come to this...

Morpheus freed himself out of his own blanket fortress, careful not to disturb Hob, and went to the bathroom.
Human bodies were quite annoying in their maintenance, but right now this wasn't the problem.
The bathroom held another mirror.

Leaning on the sink, Morpheus put a hand on the glass.

“Sister of mine. I'm not standing in my gallery, nor am I holding your sigil, but I still believe you can hear me. I call for you, sister. Please tell me why you've turned your attention to Hob Gadling.”

For a moment nothing happened and a deep sigh escaped Morpheus' lungs as he feared his call to be unheard, but then the glass beneath his fingertips turned dark and revealed Despair on the other side.

“Older brother”, she greeted him. “I must confess, it surprises me to see you.”

“This is only temporary. In a few days I will be gone again and everything will be as it should.”

“The others would be delighted to see you once more.”

Morpheus frowned. He highly doubted, that Desire would ever be thankful to see him, but he kept this thought to himself.

“As I've said. It is only temporary. There is no need to disturb them.”

“Yet you called for me...”

“Yes.” He sighed quietly. “I've felt your presence in this house. Tell me, sister, why are you watching Hob Gadling?”

To ask again annoyed Morpheus a bit, but he was also aware about the highly complicated etiquette between the Endless. Of course, not everyone bothered to use it, but from time to time it helped dealing with his siblings.

“I watch him for the same reason I've watched you, brother. He fell into my realm. Darkness has clouded his heart and mind so deeply, that he doesn't know anymore how to help himself.”

“But... why. What has happened to him?”

“You.”

The simple answer took him aback. Before he could embarrass himself by asking stupid questions Despair continued.

“It was the loss of you. Ever since the funeral his heart has been in my realm. Not even his therapist and his little pills were enough this time to help him leave.”

Morpheus felt his inside freeze.
This was bad. Way worse than he had anticipated.
Of course he had noticed, that there was something wrong about the way Hob had smiled all the time. The man was of good-hearted nature, but something had felt off.
Now he knew...

“People die”, Morpheus said, half-quoting what his friend had said to him at the graveyard.

'...Well. Most people', Hob had added and at the time he surely had meant Morpheus and himself, only to learn a couple of days later, that even an Endless could perish.

“You're not simply 'people' to him. You know that, right? Desire said-”

“I don't care, what they said. They should keep out of this and they know it”, Morpheus interrupted her harshly. “As should you, sister of mine.”

The soft and empathetic look on Despair's face vanished, replaced by something colder.

“It is not for you to decide, who who I'll take to my realm and who not. Hob Gadling needed a place to grieve and I gave it to him. As I gave you access to my realm, when you despaired. Over your imprisonment. Over the loss of your son.”

“He's been with you for too long.”

“He can leave if he wants to.”

Could he?
From what Despair had described, it seemed that Hob had been with Morpheus' sister for months. It didn't fare well for mortals – or almost immortals – to stay too long with her. And if she wasn't willing to let go off him, then it was up to Morpheus to pull his friend from her grasp.

“I can see your thoughts on your face”, Despair disrupted him. “You think, you can save him, but I can already feel you falling into my realm again. There's still darkness in your heart, Morpheus. Grief, hopelessness, despair. These are parts of my power and you have them within you, brother of mine. So before you try to save this one, you would do well to pull yourself out first... or I shall have you both.”

“Sister...”

A little smile appeared on Despair's face, as she could see herself having the upper hand in their discussion.

“It is an advice, brother, not a threat. Look after yourself, even if you may only be here for a short time as you've said. I... will not tell the others about you. I think they will find you on their own anyway.”

With that the mirror's image turned again and as Despair left Morpheus was left to stare at his own pale face.

Had she been right... about himself? Was darkness pulling him again towards her?
The answer was simple, yet he had denied it to himself.
He had more than one reason for not wanting a second chance. Of course he cared for the Dreaming and all its inhabitants. It would be disastrous, if the Kindly Ones attacked them again and Morpheus would always do, what was in his power to avert this.

But... his sense of duty wasn't everything.
It simply didn't feel right, because...
Morpheus gasped for air and shook his head.
No.
He would only be here for a few days more. No need to rip open these wounds again. No matter what Despair had told him, this wasn't necessary. He would care for Hob though.

The man was set on showing Morpheus how good life could be and maybe... maybe he could humour him in his quest. Hob would show him the beauty of this world and hopefully he could find it for himself again this way. While he was doing this, Morpheus could gently prepare his departure. This way it wouldn't be so hard for Hob this time.
He didn't know how he could do this, but... he'd surely think of something.

For now he was standing in the bathroom of Hob's flat above his pub and didn't quite know what to do with himself while Hob slept.
Of course he wouldn't wake the man. He had seen how tired his friend had been, so he more than deserved to rest.

The noises from below grew a bit louder. The staff was preparing the pub for opening.
From what Hob had told him in the past, it was his job to make sure everything worked well behind the scenes, while his employees managed serving the customers.
With Hob now deep asleep...
Morpheus decided to head down and at least tell them, that they would have to deal with Hob's absence this morning. It should be fine.

---

Nothing was fine.
After a healthy dose of confusion and questions about who he was and what he was doing here, Hob's employees had decided to drag Morpheus into their mess.
Of course he couldn't replace Hob, but they didn't really care about that.

Gerald, the old barman had taken Morpheus under his wing and made him do simple tasks like polishing glasses or serving lemonade.
It was disgraceful to Morpheus to be degraded to a stand-in for Hob, but with his ever stoic frown on his face he did as he was told.
To help Hob. May this be the first step.

“And if someone asks, you're my nephew, helping out his dear uncle today. Can't have somebody talking about you working illegally here, can we?”

Morpheus just nodded and filled another glass with cider and handed it to a guest.
Whatever Gerald mumbled about some documents and other things, he couldn't care less. All he knew, was, that if he helped those people, they would let Hob sleep.
Sounded like a fair deal.

After lunch the pub closed and there was still no sign of Hob Gadling.

“My, my... boss is sleeping the sleep of the righteous, ain't he?”, the cook – Samuel was his name – said as he was dragging a delivery of fish to his kitchen. “I'll start calling him Sleeping Beauty if he's not here when the evening shift starts.”

“Let him be, Sam”, Priya – one of the servers – called back as he wiped the tables. “He deserves some rest and you know it. Life's been tough on him lately.”

Gerald glanced at Morpheus, who helped him stock the bar.

“You... know about Robert, don't you?”

It was strange hearing someone use Hob's given name, but Morpheus managed to nod.

“He lost his girlfriend some months ago.”

“Ay. And a friend of his shortly after. Didn't take it well, but who would? Two losses so quick after each other. That brings a man down to his knees. You're his friend, ain't ya?”

“I am”, Morpheus said without hesitation.

“Good. Then be a good lad and take a bit care of him, will ya?”

“I will try...”

“Good enough.”

Priya came over to them and handed Gerald her rag to he rinsed.

“Robert is a sweetheart. I hate seeing him like this, but... he's also the boss, not a friend. He always draws that line very clearly. So he doesn't allow any of us to help him, no matter how bad it is. You on the other hand...” She leaned on the bar and smiled at him sweetly. “You can fill in here for him and be there for him, when he wakes up, right?”

Morpheus mimic didn't change one bit.

“I already promised this to Gerald.”

“Good. Good. Just making sure.”

“Alright, guys. Food's ready”, Samuel yelled from the kitchen. “Today's finest is steak 'n kidney pie. Grab some, while it's still hot.”

Priya sighed dramatically.

“Would it actually kill you to cook some veggies for once?”

Samuel starred back at her.

“It's got onion in it.”

Next to Morpheus Gerald chuckled.

“Our Sam takes traditional cooking very seriously, ya know? But man, the guy can cook. Come on. You worked. You eat.”

Morpheus wanted to protest, but his feeble human-like body made itself known again with a growl.
With an internal sigh he swallowed the words and followed Gerald to a big table in the corner, where the staff had made some space for themselves.

These people were surprisingly nice, even though they were very talkative. In those few hours of helping out Morpheus had learned more about Hob's recent life than in several of their meetings combined.

It was understandable, that his friend always wanted to boast about the great and big things in his life, but now that Morpheus learned about the smaller aspects of Hob Gadling, it made him realize who his friend was in between their meetings.
It certainly didn't make him regret calling him his friend.

Notes:

A little chapter from Morpheus POV. :D
I wasn't quite sure if I should write from his perspective, but in the end it fit in quite well. ^^

Btw.:
I'm running out of ways how to write the speech patterns of the Endless. °_° It's time to become REALLY creative!

Chapter 8: Let The Wine Talk

Yawning and stretching Hob was very tempted to bury himself in the blankets once more. Sleep had been simply divine. No weird dreams or nightmares – at least not the kind, who made him desperately want to wake up – and oh, boy... he had needed that.
Groggily he opened his eyes to a surprisingly dark room.
A very empty dark room.

In a blink of an eye Hob was awake and stumbling off the couch.
How long had he slept?
A quick glance at his phone answered the question. It was now late in the evening. He had slept through the whole day! And worst of it, Morpheus was gone!

“Morpheus? Oy!”, he yelled through his flat, but there was no answer, there was no light. “Shit...”

Quickly he grabbed his jacket, shoes and keys and headed down the stairs.

Were would a former immortal king go? Maybe some occult place? A temple or something? Maybe he was looking for his siblings or Johanna. Maybe he...
His mind turned to dark places he rather didn't want to visit, so instead he shook his head and moved faster, pulling open the door, which lead to the pub.

He had wanted to leave quickly, before any of his employees noticed him, but as soon as he sat foot in the room one of the evening shift servers spotted him and blocked his way.

“Hey, boss. Good to see you. Heard you were a bit under the weather. Nice to see you up and running again.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Tommy. I'll come back later to check on my work later, but-”

“It isn't that much. Some paperwork for the delivery, but we stole away that friend of yours to help us out. To be honest, he's pretty rubbish, but I think Gerald has taken a liking on him.”

That made Hob stop dead in his tracks.

“...what friend?”

Tommy grinned at him.

“The lanky guy in black. Uhm... Mo?”

Hob was both relieved and horrified to hear, that his staff had made Morpheus, former King of the Dreaming work at his shabby pub all day. For sure his friend was pissed as hell, but at least Hob now knew were he was.

A bit absent-mindedly he clapped Tommy on the shoulder and moved towards the bar without another work.

And there he was.
Caged behind the counter, next to Gerald stood no one else than Morpheus and gave out drinks. A tea towel lay on his shoulder, the old grey still a stark contrast to his black clothes, but that wasn't the strangest thing about him.
Morpheus smiled.

It wasn't much and invisible to most, but Hob felt his heart flutter in his chest as he saw this rare display of – if not happiness – contentment.
Hob slowed down his approach and quietly leaned on the corner of the bar, watching them work for a moment.

Morpheus was silent as ever, only speaking, when spoken to and only the most necessary words, still Gerald laughed every now and then. It was way to loud in the pub at this hour. The room was full of people, music was blaring from the speakers, the telly in the corner was set to a football game. This all made it impossible for Hob to hear, what they said to each other, but it also gave him some precious moments to sit there, completely unnoticed.

Of course it didn't last for long and it was Morpheus, who spotted him first, squeezing himself past Gerald to Hob's side of the bar.

“You're awake”, he said as a matter of fact.

“I am”, Hob answered with a nod. “You know... you could've woken me up, right? I missed the whole day...”

His heart grew heavy as he realized, that he had lost almost an entire day with Morpheus.
Only six days left...

On the other side of the counter Morpheus shook his head.

“You needed sleep. And I... helped out a bit.”

Hob couldn't help but smile, as he heard the embarrassed pride in his friend's voice. Morpheus may have been a rubbish help – according to Tommy – but he had done it for him...

Opening his mouth to say, who knew what, Hob was immediately interrupted by Gerald, who had now noticed him as well.

“Evening, Robert. Had a good sleep?”

Hob's smile turned a bit apologetic as he nodded.

“I'm sorry, I left you hanging...”

“No need to worry. Mo here had been a fine replacement. Didn't drop one glass the whole day.”

A quick glance at his friend told Hob, that Morpheus really wasn't a fan of people shortening his name, but to his utter surprise, he kept quiet.

“Uhm... yeah. Thanks for that, but I can step in now. Later I'll-”

Gerald stopped him with a raised hand.

“It's fine, boss. I can handle the bar just fine. I've managed for years, before brought in the runts”, he said pointing to the servers. “Just check the bills and we'll be fine.”

“I will. Thank you...”

“Oh, and Mo here told me, that he'll be in town for just a week, so the others and I thought, that it would be nice to give you some time off. What'cha think? Your last holiday must've been ages ago.”

“But... I can't just...”, Hob tried to protest, but Gerald only shook his head.

“No need to worry. We've already called Jenn in for the weekend. Next delivery will be on Monday, so till then we'll be fine. Go and enjoy life a bit, Robert. Take your friend to a concert or whatever you young people do these days.”

This made Hob laugh. Not only because even with Gerald being close to 60 he was still way older, but also the slightly raised eyebrow on Morpheus' face as he found himself being called 'young'.

“Alright...”, Hob gave up with a sigh. “Thanks, Gerald. Tell the others I really appreciate you all stepping up for me.”

Gerald waved his words off with a kind smile and grabbed the tea towel from Morpheus' shoulder.

“Off ya go. Enjoy the night. It's not raining today.”

Morpheus nodded at him with his almost-smile.

“Good night, Gerald”, he said, earning a slap on the shoulder as the bar man finally shooed them out of the pub.

---

Because they hadn't really planned something and because even though it didn't rain, it was horribly cold outside, they ended up in Hob's flat again, on the couch, with the oldest bottle of wine Hob could find at this hour.

“It's almost like back then”, Hob said, nipping on his wine. “When we had our meetings once a century. But this time... I finally got you to drink with me instead of just staring at your glass.”

Next to him Morpheus took a very measured sip.

“Things have changed since then”, he simply replied.

“They have...”

Hob felt a strange kind of melancholy bloom in his heart.
This was almost like it always had been and now that things really had changed, he wished for nothing more than to sit here with Morpheus and drink till their heads grew heavy.
For a long time he had wanted more, even though he had always known, that his wish was stupid and so far out of reach, that a thousand lifetimes wouldn't make it come true. Now he didn't ask for much... or maybe he still did. If Hob could have one wish fulfilled for the rest of his existence, then he would wish for Morpheus to accept this second chance, which had been given to him.
Even if he'd go away and never meet Hob again, it would still be enough to know that Morpheus was somewhere in the world... and hopefully happy.

His heart was so full of these words and emotions, that it felt like bursting, yet he didn't say anything out loud.
The new Dream had very well known, what Hob Gadling was feeling for the former Dream King, but his Morpheus... he had either chosen to ignore Hob's feelings or still wasn't aware of them. Either way, Hob had decided not to test his luck any further.
This week he would show Morpheus the good sides of life. As a friend. Nothing more.

“We'll need to get you some clothes tomorrow”, he said eventually. “I can borrow you some, but they might be a bit too wide for you... and not your style”, he added with a grin.

Morpheus frowned once again.

“What is wrong with the clothes I'm wearing?”

“People are still sweaty in this modern age, my friend and you're human enough to stink, too. No wonder, after you've worked all day. You can hit the shower, if you want to and I'll give you a shirt for the night and... oh, yeah. I don't really have a guest bed... fuck.”

“I can sleep on the couch”, Morpheus suggested.

They both silently took in the cozy two-seater. There was no way Morpheus would fit on that.

“Uhm... maybe we can get you a hotel room... no. You'd need papers for that and... bloody hell, you'll need papers. An ID, a health card would be good, a bloody oyster card...”

Again Morpheus looked at him with confusion on his face.

“Why would I require all these things...?”

'Just for one week'
That part was left unsaid, but Hob heard it anyway.

“This is London of the 21 ^st century. We can't get you anywhere without them. Couldn't even take you to a museum without it.”

He shuffled to his feet – a bit unsteady – and walked over to a small desk, where his laptop was placed. He put down his glass next to it and powered up the device. Normally he only used it for accounting, but somewhere deep in some hidden folders there were still contacts, which Hob had used... some couple of years ago.

“Take a shower, if you want to”, he said over his shoulder. “This might take a while.”

Morpheus rose to his feet, but instead of heading for the bathroom, he walked up next to Hob.

“What are you doing?”, he asked curiously.

Hob grinned.

“I'm getting you papers. How do you think I exist in these times? Every 30 or 40 years – if I'm lucky – I have to change my name, but going north and coming back as my own son doesn't work anymore. Not, if I want to stay in London. But thankfully there are some talented people, who'll do some excellent work, if the price is right. Might even have it all by tomorrow, if I throw a little overnight surcharge their way.”

“You... don't need to spend so much money on me...”, Morpheus said, sounding more than a bit embarrassed, but Hob only smiled at him.

“Don't worry. I'm way better in dealing with money than I was back then. I may not be rich like a king, but there are nice little accounts on different names all over the world. Just in case, you know. This is nothing compared to building up a new life from the scratch. Here, hold still for a moment, will you?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a photo of a very bewildered Morpheus. Checking it, he found himself smiling.
The lighting wasn't the best and to be honest it looked hardly any better than those booth photos.. it looked horrible enough to be an official id photo. Still this was a photo of Morpheus. The first image he had of his friend since the caricature Lady Constantine had thrown at their faces.

“Brilliant”, Hob said still smiling and turned back to his laptop.

He typed and clicked, throwing his full concentration at the screen in front of him, till he found, what he was looking for.

“Take a bath, love. I'll do this quickly and then we can have the rest of the wine, alright?”

There was no answer, but the shuffling of feet, which told him, that Morpheus had finally given up.
For some more minutes Hob brooded over the details of Morpheus documents, carefully picking the needed data and send it all on its way, attached to a nice sum of money.

Now it that was left to do, was to pick out some fresh clothes for Morpheus, who...
The colour suddenly drained from Hob's face, just to be immediately replaced by a burning red.

He had called Morpheus 'love'.
It had been instinctively, just a little phrase, nothing more... or at least Hob hoped, that he could convince Morpheus to believe that.
He put his face in his hands and felt the warmth of the skin.
With all these feelings in his heart constantly trying to break free... this would be one hell of a week.

Notes:

Oh no... there was only one bed. What to do? What to do....? XD
Yeah, the sad part is over (for now). Get ready for some lighter chapters. ^^

Chapter 9: Settling In

When Morpheus emerged from the shower Hob's little mistake seemed thankfully forgotten, even though Hob felt the warmth of his face for the rest of the evening. That may or may not have been due to a certain guy, who had put his way too long legs up on armchair next to him and who's still wet hair let a drop slide down his neck from time to time, only for the droplet to disappear beneath the worn-out neckline of the faded, formerly black shirt, which Hob had borrowed him.
Despite the shirt Morpheus only wore a pair of also black briefs.

Hob was sure, that he wouldn't survive that night.

Morpheus was close to him.
Very close.
There shoulders were almost touching and Hob knew, that he only needed to lean to the side a bit for... putting his empty glass on the table or something.
But he didn't dare.
Instead he held onto his glass for his dear life and tried to keep their conversation going.

It was only trivial things. Where would Hob take Morpheus tomorrow. Was it really alright to leave the inn to his employees. Why did humans need such complicated things like id cards and what was an Oyster Card?
Trivial. For Morpheus's standards.

He almost sighed in relieve as Morpheus eventually yawned and then looked confused as fuck.
The former Shaper of Dreams was ready to sleep for maybe the first time in his existence.

And then the problem about the bed reappeared.
Having no nerve left for the day, Hob cut the discussion short and simply pushed Morpheus into his bedroom, grabbed a pillow and a blanket, wished his friend a good night and went to sleep on the too short couch.
Again.

Taking a nap on the couch was absolutely fine, especially if you were deadly tired, but Hob had already felt a twinge in his back from his earlier rest. He was pretty sure, that it would hurt like hell in the morning.
Still he chose this option. Morpheus' first night of sleep should be a comfortable one.
As for the next night... they would figure something out.

---

“ Hello, Hob Gadling. ”

“You should really stop using my full name, mate. Makes me feel like I've done something wrong, when you say it like this.”

Dream frowned. It looked painfully similar to Morpheus.

“ But it is your name. What should I call you instead? ”

“Just Hob. That's fine”, he said with a smile.

The other nodded and took a step closer.
This night they were at the old White Horse Tavern. It all looked like 1789, yet Hob found himself wearing his modern clothes. He was sitting at the table, where Morpheus and him had met back then, but the other side of the table was empty... still Dream sat down. Hob would have been lying, if he'd said that this didn't bother him. This seat was already taken by someone else... even if he wasn't here.

“How was his first day?”, Dream asked directly, without losing time on useless small talk.

“It was... difficult, but I think we got ourselves together.”

Hob certainly knew, that he wouldn't tell Dream about how obviously Despair was watching him all the time and how Morpheus had wrecked his heart multiple times that day. Hopefully he'd never dream about it...

“That sounds good”, Dream said with a nod. “Do you... have a plan on how to convince him?”

He seemed slightly nervous. Hob really understood why.

“I... don't”, he confessed. “There's no use in playing the tourist guide for a man, who's seen it all. I hope, that I can get him to like just the everyday life. Because that's what it is in the end, isn't it? You live, see the world go by and find your place in it. At least, that's what I'm doing. The exiting things happen anyway. And always unplanned. Like having the former embodiment of Dreams in your house and... taking him shopping tomorrow. You see, I don't have that many black clothes and he...”

He drifted off, his mind recalling the image of Morpheus lounging on his couch after the shower.
Was it possible for his heart to beat faster, even though he was asleep?

“Be careful, Hob”, Dream suddenly warned him in a serious tone.

“What?”

“You may draw my siblings attention, if you don't control yourself.”

For a cold second Hob feared, that Dream already knew about Despair, but then he saw a smile tugging on the corner of Dream's mouth as he nodded behind Hob.
He turned immediately and saw his couch in the middle of the tavern and on it Morpheus like he had just imagined him, sipping on the rest of his wine.

“I thought, I've asked you to stop meddling with me”, Hob said and tore his gaze away from the dream.

“I told you before: it's your desire, which changes the dream. I merely... observe.”

Oh, Dream was definitely grinning by now.
Hob bit back a sigh.

“Okay, okay... I got the point. You know, sometimes a man can't help, what he thinks about... or dreams... But I'll try to keep myself in check. No need for another Endless in my house.”

Satisfied with this answer, Dream nodded and stood up.

“Then I'll leave you to your night's rest. I will meet you again tomorrow though.”

“Sure. Uhm... are you visiting Morpheus now? Does he... does he dream?”

Dream leaned his head to the side as if he was listening to something.

“Yes... and no. He wanders the Dreaming with no dream for his own. He's currently at the furthest corner of my realm. Do you want to meet him?”

“No, no... it's alright. I guess, he needs time on his own as well.”

Dream nodded again.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow. And... oh! Please take him with you, okay?” He pointed at the Morpheus-shaped dream. “I'd just like to sit here in silence and drink some wine, if you don't mind.”

His face already felt warm, but it got even hotter as Dream looked at him with a knowing smile. With a wave of his hand the dream disappeared, leaving the couch behind.

“I can send them away, but they may come back. Your dreams are a bit too interesting for them”, Dream said smirking.

This time Hob couldn't suppress a groan.

“Bloody hell...”

“Have a good night... Hob.”

---

When he awoke the next morning his dreams had been blessedly empty of more curious dreams posing as their former lord. Hob felt mostly rested and it would have been a lovely morning, if it wasn't for the painful stiffness in his back. Still he managed to make a decent breakfast for Morpheus and himself, which he suffered through, because still in his night clothes and with his hair ruffled by sleep Morpheus looked even more... human.

Hob took his time this morning to brew some tea for them and nervously watched as Morpheus tasted it.
In contrast to the new Dream, his Morpheus liked the bitter taste, adding plainly nothing to the tea.
The whole time Hob debated with himself, of he should tell Morpheus about his meeting with Dream or if he should ask him about his night.
In the end he decided against it all and kept the conversation light till the doorbell rang.

Quickly he hurried to the door, where a simple looking guy gave him an unmarked package with a nod, before he turned around and left, having said not one word.
Hob took the package back to the kitchen.

“I swear, the last time I've dealt with them the delivery was a bit nicer”, he told Morpheus as he opened the box and pulled out some cards and papers.

“What is this?”, Morpheus asked with mild curiosity.

“This, my friend, is your new life. Welcome to London.”

With a grin he handed Morpheus the id card and let him study it.

“Morpheus Endeles?”, he asked with a raised eyebrow.¹

Hob felt the familiar heat creep up his neck.

“Yeah, I... should've asked you. I'm not a creative man, you know... but you need a surname these days. Be thankful, that I didn't give you a middle name! That would've been way worse !”

Morpheus ignored him, studying the small card some more. The nervous silence spurned Hob to keep on talking.

“I gave you this address. I thought, it may be easier this way. And... for the birth date...”

“It's the day we first met.”

Hob grinned.

“It is.”

“The year though...”

“Yeah... 1989... the year we were supposed to meet. You see... you look like you're in your 30s and... I needed a date, so... I took this... I hope, you don't mind it.”

Hob held his breath as he watched Morpheus touch – almost caress – the letters and numbers on the card.

“I don't mind”, Morpheus simply said, his voice calm as ever, but he looked almost... happy.

Hob felt the warmth travel to his heart.
Maybe this week wouldn't be so bad.

---

A couple of hours later Hob was still determined to keep his optimism as it was him, who dragged a very unwilling Morpheus from shop to shop.

Back at home Hob had given him the darkest clothes he owned and which were still suitable for the clammy cold of autumn. Morpheus had ended up wearing dark blue jeans, a black shirt, grey jumper and a black jacket – after an unnerving discussion, that the coachman's coat would draw unnecessary attention to them.

Now, a good time later, Morpheus had already swapped the windbreaker for knee-long wool coat and the jumper for a turtleneck. It was only, because Hob insisted on washing the rest first, that he wasn't already dressed completely in new shiny black.

As they walked down the street Hob realised, that he as well have let Morpheus wear that damn old coat, because wherever they walked, heads turned towards them.
Well, not them . But to Morpheus, who was once again looking like some weird goth model, long legs, thin frame and all. It was impossible to blend in with the crowd unless he put a paper back over Morpheus' head.

As once again a young cashier blushed and stuttered as they wanted to pay, Hob really reconsidered if the paper back wouldn't be a good solution.
Morpheus on the other hand, scanning his surrounding with eyes half-lidded and almost a pout on his lips, was blissfully unaware about it all.

As the afternoon approached the finally sat down to eat.
It was a nice, cozy restaurant with thankfully enough space at their table for the mountain of shopping bags.

“And this... is, what humans do?”, Morpheus asked with a glance at the bags.

“Hm... not all the time and not to that extend, but... yeah. It's part of modern life. Back in the old times you had one set of clothes and if you were unlucky it was a hand-down from an older sibling. Owning new clothes sometimes still feels like a luxury.” He chuckled. “But it's damn exhausting.”

Somewhere in the restaurant there was a loud coughing. Probably someone with this year's flu, who thought that it was still a good idea to eat out.
The coughing continued and Hob nervously thought about, that Morpheus didn't have any vaccination... or maybe Dream had been clever enough to make him a bit more resistant? Couldn't have the poor guy get ill this week. Maybe they should...

The coughing still continued and now there were other voices in between, shouting nervously. From their spot at the window, they couldn't really understand anything as suddenly the coughing stopped, but the yelling got louder.

And then it dawned on Hob, what was really happening.

“Oh, shit. We need to go. Now.”

He fumbled for his wallet to leave some money for their drinks.

It seemed, that Morpheus understood the situation the same moment Hob had, because he already grabbed the bags and they turned to-

“Hello, little brother. Hello, Hob. It's nice to see you again.”

Notes:

Who might this mysterious figure be? ô_o
I'm just kidding. I know it's abvious. XD
And if you're wondering: No special font for her, because of all her siblings she's the most human. Well... maybe Destruction would sound pretty similar, but I don't think that he'll make an appearance.

¹Endeles is Middle English for 'Endless'. It's the kind of English Hob spoke, when they first met and yes, it's uncreative and so am I. °_°

(I spend way too much time creating this footnote....)

Chapter 10: Who You Are

Hob froze in panic as he looked straight in to that smiling familiar face of no one else, but Death herself.
Dressed in her usual black attire plus a thick black duffle coat she casually walked over to them as if she hadn't taken some unfortunate bloke to the sunless lands. Fight and flight struggled for the upper hand in Hob's mind, leaving him unable to do anything instead.

Next to him he heard Morpheus sigh quietly and step forward.

“Hello, my sister... How have you been keeping?”, he asked way to calm for the whole situation.

To Hob's utter surprise... Death laughed.

“Oh, well. I'm fine, thanks for asking.” She looked up and down his frame, probably taking in the little changes in appearance. “Were you two leaving? I can come along, if you'd like. My next meeting is around here anyway. We can chat a little on the way.”

Hob shot Morpheus a curious look.
So, from the first expression Death didn't seem angry about Morpheus being back in the land of the living, but maybe she'd already know... She was Death, after all.

“I'd like to, sister”, Morpheus said with an honest to god smile.

Never before had Hob seen Morpheus interact with any of his siblings, Death especially. It was like he was a whole different person. He spoke softly, smiled from time to time and leaned over to her, when he spoke as if they were sharing a secret just between the two of them.
Hob was almost a bit jealous.
Of course, he had seen Morpheus smile as well, it usually was just a bit more subtle.
But with Death... Hob could clearly tell, that Morpheus loves his sister.

When they were walking down the street, with Death deciding on the direction, Hob let the two of them walk ahead, only listening a bit anxiously to their conversation as far as he dared.

“You didn't seem surprised to see me”, Morpheus said with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Had someone told you about me?”

Death chuckled.

“That wouldn't be necessary... even if Dream seemed really nervous, when he last saw me. It was clear as day, that he'd done something. But even without that, I knew you were back. You're only half human, but you're alive and I know every living being in the whole of existence.”

Morpheus nodded to her words.

“Are you angry?”

She laughed again.

“Why should I?”

“Because somebody meddled with your work... I'd be angry, if someone crossed me this way...”

“But the Dreaming isn't your work anymore, isn't it?” She gave him a wistful smile. “To answer your question: No, I'm not angry. I'm happy beyond words to see you again, even when I can tell, that you're different now. You're not an Endless anymore. You're not the King of Dreams and Nightmares anymore. You're not 'Dream' anymore... But you're still my brother. I still love you.”

They stopped in the middle of the street and Morpheus turned to his sister, his face full of emotions, but no word left his mouth.
Death, seeing his struggle, hugged him tight.

“It's alright, little brother”, she whispered and Hob turned away to give them both some privacy.

This way he didn't hear, what Death said to Morpheus and also not, what he answered her, but when she let go off him, she wiped a stray tear from her eyes and fixed her smile.

“I guess, I'll leave you to your shopping tour now. My next job is that way, but you don't need to come any further. Enjoy the day.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe it'll snow soon. The air smells nice...”

“Uhm... don't take this as a complain, but... are you simply letting us go?”, Hob asked, curiosity winning over survival instinct.

“Of course, I do, Hob. Unless you've suddenly changed your mind, then none of you is part of my work.”

“...oh.”

He didn't really feel relieved at her words. It was just... a bit too much.
When he had realized, that they would meet her, he'd been deadly afraid – ha! – that she would take Morpheus with her and now, that she was just about to leave them standing in the middle of Regent Street... it felt as if he'd been almost hit by a bus just to see a rainbow right after that.

“Will I see you again, sister?”, Morpheus asked, before she could turn to leave.

Her smile got even brighter.

“Who knows”, she answered. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe far, far in the future. But know, that I will always keep you in my heart, little brother.”

This time, it was Morpheus, who initiated the contact as he took her hand.

“Thank you...”, he said, his voice a bit rough. “For everything. Farewell, dear sister.”

She hugged him once more, before she waved at Hob and off she went down the street and out of view in the blink of an eye.
As soon as she was gone, Hob let out a shuddering breath, bend over and put a hand on his knee to keep himself from falling over. He hadn't known how tense he had been until it was gone.

“Are you alright, Hob?”, Morpheus asked, concern colouring his voice.

“I'm fine. I'm fine... just a bit woozy. Give me a moment...”

He straightened back up with a supportive hand on his elbow. Even though he still felt a bit light-headed, he managed to smile at Morpheus.

“Sorry about that. Your sister, she just... When I last saw her, she asked me, if I was done... Living, you know? And now with you back here, I thought... I...”

Morpheus nodded in understanding.

“Be assured, Hob, that my sister would never take you with her, if it wasn't your wish. She may have already... won our bet, but she still honours your decision.”

“Good to know. But you-”

Morpheus shook his head curtly.

“It is like she said. I'm not, who I was before. I am a new being, created by Dream. There's no reason for her to take me.”

“You're still the same to me, you know.” The words escaped Hob, before could stop them. He blamed being this close to Morpheus for his lack of self control. “Maybe your sister and Dream told you, that you're new, but not to me. Not in any point, that matters. You're still you. To me.”

Finally he stopped himself from rambling.
At first Morpheus just looked at him with his typical, stoic expression, but then his mimic turned into something softer, almost a smile.

“Thank you, Hob. I appreciate your words.”

And here they stood, surrounded by people passing by, not one even glancing their way and Hob was really fine about that, because in this moment it just felt as if it was only the two of them.

A drop landed on Hob's cheek.
Then another on top of his head.
And another.
And another...

With a scrunched up face he looked towards the grey sky.

“Snow, my ass”, he mumbled. “We... should get somewhere nice and dry. And finally grab something to eat. Hopefully there won't be another... accident.”

Morpheus just gave him an almost amused look as they headed to the next best restaurant. Quickly so they wouldn't get too wet and so close to each other, that once or twice their hands touched.
Hob noticed every single time.
He wondered, if Morpheus did, too.

Notes:

A short chapter today, even though I wanted to write more... but I'm deeply tired today. =_=

Chapter 11: Of Late Nights and Busy Days

“You're unusually late”, Dream greeted Hob as soon as he stepped a foot into the Dreaming.

It was weird, but somehow even asleep he felt tired as hell and ready to lie down.
With an exasperated sigh Hob rubbed his face.

“It's about... I don't know... 3... 4 in the morning at my place. I've fucking finally fallen asleep and he wants to have breakfast at 8, so that we'll have most of the day. I'm gonna break, I'll tell you...”

There was no question, who 'he' was as Dream put a sympathetic hand on Hob's shoulder.

“I see. He is very... enthusiastic. I'm sorry for you, Hob, but I'm also glad to hear, that he regained his good spirits.”

“Wouldn't really call it 'good spirits'. He's moody as ever, looking at everyone with that... dark look of his as if they offended him by breathing wrong.”

Dream chuckled.

“And yet his mood is well enough to spend time with you till late at night.”

“Oh, no. He's been asleep for hours. Didn't you see him wandering around?”

Dream tilted his head to the side as they were walking down the most beautiful beach. A memory of his trip to Sri Lanka a couple of decades ago. The sun hadn't set on this side of the island, but in Hob's dream it did.
They walked barefooted along the shore, Dream in his usual white robe and Hob in his vacation outfit. It would have been lovely to see this dream a few hours earlier...

“You are right. He had been here for over three hours, again wandering on the outskirts, far away from the castle... Why had he arrived so much earlier than you, my friend?”

Hob groaned and hid his face in his hand.

“Because”, he said with a sigh. “Right now – in London – he's sleeping next to me.”

It took Dream a moment to understand, what Hob was telling him and when he did, he tried to cover up a laugh and a cough.

“I... see...”

Hob glared at him.

“That guy is stubborn as ever. Last night, I let him have the bed and slept on the couch. Not the best sleep I've ever had, but also far from the worst. This night, I asked him, if I should rent him a room at hotel, since the rooms in my inn are currently being renovated and... he refused.”

He threw up his hands in defeat.

“Told him, that I could sleep on the couch again and he refused again! Told him, that he couldn't expect me to have him sleep on the couch and you know, what he said?”

Dream desperately tried to stifle a chuckle.

“He suggested for you to share a bed?”

“He did! That bloody arsehole!” Hob continued talking over Dream's laughter. “How am I supposed to sleep, when he's right there? It's fucking infuriating! By now I really hope for him, that he either has a too thick skull to notice my twice-damned feelings for him or that he's forgotten about it, because, if he knows and he-”

“He doesn't know, Hob.”

This stopped Hob in his tirade.
Mouth still open he turned to Dream.

“He doesn't know how you feel about him”, Dream repeated. “He has never seen your dreams like I do. He wanted to give you privacy, even though he should know about everything in this realm. And in the Waking World... he never believed, that anyone could feel attracted to him. Not after all this time...”

Hob turned his head and gazed out over the soft orange light dancing over the waves.

“It's more than attraction...”, he mumbled. “At least not anymore...”

At their last centenary meeting, they had not only talked about Hob's life, but – for the first time – about Morpheus as well. Not much, of course, because back then the Endless liked to keep himself veiled in the mystery of being unknown, but Hob had learned a few bits.
For example, that Morpheus had indeed had lovers through the ages. Etherial, otherworldly beings like fairies, muses or witches and one human woman. The way Morpheus had suddenly stopped talking, had told Hob, that it probably hadn't gone too well.

So now Hob knew, that the former Lord of Dreams could love.
He just didn't love him.
It somehow felt both better and worse.

“It's so strange talking to you about... how I feel about him, because you are the new Dream. You know everything he's known and more. You've seen those... dreams... And you know our story...”

“I am Dream, but I'm not him. Not to you.”

“Yeah... that's kinda it...”, Hob sighed.

They walked a bit in silence in the never-ending sunset and the only noise were the soft waves dying on the shoreline.

“You could talk to him now”, Dream eventually suggested. “He is not of the Endless anymore. Being with a mortal... or even an almost-immortal won't call forth disaster anymore.”

Hob raised his eyebrows in wonder.

“It did that? When an Endless is with a human?”

Dream nodded, his shoulders suddenly heavy in sorrow.

“Morpheus once loved a human woman and in doing so doomed her and all of her kingdom. I think, he wouldn't want to talk about it, but you...”

Hob shook his head.

“That still doesn't mean anything. Just because he doesn't have to fear doom and chaos, doesn't mean-”

A shrill beeping echoed over the sea. It began as the cry of a seagull, but turned louder with every second.
Confused Hob starred at the ocean, whatever he had wanted to say was lost.
Next to him Dream sighed.

“I guess, we'll have to continue our conversation another night. Have a nice day, Hob.”

---

And so he woke up again to the alarm of his phone.
Without opening his eyes he grabbed it and turned it off with a loud groan.
He felt like shit.

“Good morning, Hob.”

Next to him Morpheus stretched his arms and yawned.
It was still dark in the room, with the curtains drawn closed, but Hob could still see his silhouette against the white bed linen. It was almost unreal, breathtaking and way so much more than Hob could take so early in the morning.

“Mornin'...”, he grumbled and dragged himself out of the bed, before his foolish heart could win the upper hand an let him do something he'd definitely regret.

---

The whole reason for being up so early was, that Hob had suggested that they'd visit the British Museum together. Not in particular to learn anything new, but to... badmouth some certain fake artefacts and wrong interpretations.

It was something Hob sometimes liked to do on his own, but with usually no one to talk about how that one could never be an authentic book from the 17 ^th century, because the 't' was definitely wrong, it normally ended up getting boring very quickly.

But today they were here.
Among the very first visitors for the day.

With another yawn and an internal wish for more coffee, Hob tugged at Morpheus' sleeve to have them gain a bit of space to the group of very loud school kids in front of them.

At first the wandered through the ancient Egyptian section and to Hob's delight Morpheus started talking about people he'd known back then. Of course he remembered all the great personas of history, but also the common people. The jeweller, who had created that bead necklace; the scholar, who had written the papyri for the Book of the Dead, the potterer, who had made the cup, which was now only shards.

Hob listened to it all, so lost in Morpheus' tales, that he didn't notice how much time had passed until his stomach growled. Loudly.

After lunch – and more coffee for Hob, the went over to the rooms, which held artefacts from the middle ages.
Now Hob could finally ad something to the conversation and he was happy to do so.

“You see, when I moved north again, I couldn't take everything with me. So I shipped some things overseas, to keep it save; sold some others and gave the rest to a young scholar. Told him, it was just knick-knacks, I had inherited from a weird uncle and that he could take it our otherwise I'd throw it away. You should have seen his face as he's realised that what he held in his hands was a genuine goblet from the fifteen hundreds. Nothing posh. Just a trinket I've managed to keep for quite a while... For a moment, I feared he might faint.”

Morpheus chuckled.

“I remember him. For weeks he dreamed about nothing else but this goblet.”

Hob shook his head in wonder.

“Do you remember everyone, who's ever lived?”, he asked.

“No. I used to, but now... some things are fading from my mind. It may be because of my new form. It can't hold the entirety of everything that ever dreamed.”

“I'm sorry...”

“Don't be. To forget some things, makes the ones I still remember just more precious.”

He said it so calmly, that Hob couldn't help, but stare for a second in awe.
Just as Morpheus turned back to him, he got himself back together and plastered a smile on his face.

“Then how about some new memories? The next room holds some very interesting things.”

He dared to take Morpheus by the arm and guide him towards their destination.

“Is it, because they once belonged to you as well?”, Morpheus asked with a small smile.

“Not quite”, Hob answered with a mischievous grin. “More like: They belonged to me, because I made them and they're definitely not as old as the museum thinks they are.”

The smile on Morpheus' face got a bit wider.

“Hob Gadling... have you given the museum a forgery?”

“Oh, absolutely not! ...They bought it themselves. And up till now they haven't noticed.”

Notes:

For the last few days I've wrecked my mind what 'fun activities' they could have. The museum is one of them.
Normally a nice trip for people to learn something, but for those two just an opportunity to be amused about what historians get wrong. ;)

Chapter 12: Instead Of Dreaming

“Oh gods... I'll never walk one more step in my entire life”, Hob groaned as he let himself fall onto the couch.

Outside it the sun had set over an hour ago.
They hadn't left the museum, because they had seen it all, but because it was closing for the day and the staff had gently, but firmly kicked them out.
On their way back home Hob had promised Morpheus to take him there again soon, but now with his feet feeling like two painfully swollen lumps of flesh... he'd rather wait a bit for that next trip.
Maybe in two weeks, give or take. Or better even wait a month. That sounded about right...

Hob blinked at the ceiling.
Two weeks... A month...
Here he was, already making plans for the future, when Morpheus' test week wasn't even over.
Four more days.
It seemed like so much time to fill with incredibly good ideas – that he still had to come up with – to make Morpheus love life, but also way too short to spend time with him...

Fear gripped Hob's heart. Again.
What, if all his attempts were futile? What if, in the end, Morpheus just left, no matter how hard Hob tried to convince him to stay? What if he really had made his decision and stood by it, unwavering?
Hob knew, that he couldn't lose him again. Last time it broke his heart, but this time... it would break all of him. Of that he was sure.

With a sigh he rubbed his face and glanced over to the armchair Morpheus lounged on. He had thrown himself onto it, same level of tiredness Hob felt in his bones, but in comparison to Hob he looked like a Renaissance piece of art and not like a middle-aged man, who needed at leat one week on uninterrupted sleep.

“Oi, you hungry?”, Hob called over to him.

The only answer he got, was a low grumble, which he interpreted as 'yes'.
Hob tried to sit up straight, but fell back into the cushions immediately.

“My feet hurt. My legs hurt. My back... let's not talk about that. There's no way I'm gonna cook dinner for us.” He reached for his phone. “Indian delivery food it is.”

“You own an entire Inn. Staffed with a cook”, Morpheus reminded him with a chuckle.

“Sure, but Sam's busy enough downstairs and you, my friend, can broaden your horizon and eat something else than British Food. It'll be nice, believe me. Do you have something you want to try or should I order for both of us?”

On that question Morpheus only shrugged and Hob ordered for at his favourite restaurant down the street. Something nice and spicy for himself and spinach with cheese for Morpheus. No need to burn off his taste buds... yet.

With enough time to spare they hit the shower – one after another!
When Hob came back from the bathroom, nice, cosy and clean, he found Morpheus sprawled on the bed, half asleep.

“Hey, big guy”, he nudged Morpheus a bit. “Food will be here in a couple of minutes. Don't starve yet, alright?”

Morpheus grumbled.

“Did you know, that in ancient times people used to eat while lying down?”, Morpheus asked Hob with hardly one eye open.

“Is that you way of asking me, if we can eat in bed?” Another shrug and Hob chuckled. “Well, these ain't ancient times anymore... If we eat here, we'll put on a film, okay? Scoot over and take your long limbs with you.”

So they ended up eating delivery food in bed while watching Mary Poppins on Hob's phone.
Morpheus had chosen it and Hob – more than mildly bewildered by this choice – had more or less agreed.

It was a lovely evening.
Outside it was raining again, but the old house was kept warm through its thick walls and the eat from the pub downstairs.
At one point Morpheus had asked to try some of Hob's food and immediately regretted it. Hob made a mental note: bitter drinks were fine, but spicy food wasn't.

At the end of the film, when Mr. Banks told a joke to his superiors, both Morpheus and Hob were sunken into the pillows, the food packages next to the bed and none of them willing to take them to the kitchen.

Morpheus' head leaned against Hob's shoulder, his breathing grazed Hob's arm, keeping him awake despite how tired he was.
This was perfect.
It would have been fine for him just to stay like this till the end of...

---

Hob could have sworn, that he only had closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again, he found himself in a sleek red room, which looked somewhat futuristic.
Swearing under his breath he looked around. It was obvious, that he had fallen asleep, so Dream must've been around there somehow.

But no Dream was to be found.

Instead Hob eventually came to a big room with a single red couch in it.
And on said couch was a being of sheer beauty, stretching their long legs in an alluring way.

Had Hob not known, who that sinful creature was, he might have fallen for their playful gaze, but he very well remembered meeting them not so long ago...

“Hello, Hob Gadling”, Desire purred.

“What is it with you lot and always using my full name?”, Hob sighed.

Desire rolled onto their stomach and grinned at him.

“Why not? Don't you like it or do you wish me to use something more... intimate with you? How about... Robbie? Rob?”, they teased. “Or simply Robert?”

The way Desire had called him ba all variations of his name with quite a moan, made his knees buckle, but he shook his head and fought against their influence.

“I'm not in the mood for games, sorry. Can you please tell me, why I'm here and let me go back to sleep? I'm really tired, you know?”

“Oh, I know. I know, who occupies your mind, when you're awake and torments your dreams, when you sleep. It's obvious, that you need some... rest.”

Desire chuckled and it felt like a warm shudder dripping down Hob's back.

“Of course, you know...”, Hob sighed. “Please don't send any more of his siblings into my house. It's getting quite crowded.”

“Hm, I see. Especially in your bed, am I right?”

The shudder turned into full-fledged embarrassment, but still Hob held Desire's golden gaze.

“This is none of your business”, he said courtly, but it only made them laugh out loud.

“Oh, poor human. This is all of my business. I don't care, that he is back. He doesn't have his power anymore and that is fine by me. But... you on the other hand... hmmm... your longing is just... delicious. You know... one snap of my fingers and I could make you lose all self-control, let desire take over you and-”

“Don't.”

Such a short thing to say, yet Hob found himself shivering as if he'd lifted a boulder. Going against Desire's wishes in their own realm, was an absurd thing to try, but still Hob didn't give up.
He couldn't.

The smile on Desire's face got more cat-like, their eyes glowing with interest.

“Are you sure, my sweet little thing? I am Desire and I feel, what your heart wants. It pains you to be so close to him, touch him, but not in the way you want to... So why are you so cruel to yourself? Has my dear sister too much hold over you, that you don't think yourself to be deserving of... him?”

The 'him' was spoken with barely veiled disgust, but otherwise Desire's concern seemed genuine.

Hob took a moment to collect his thoughts, before he dared to answer.

“You're right. I... want him. I want to be close to him, hold him and... I don't need to tell you. You obviously know”, he said with an annoyed sigh, which only made Desire's grin grow wider. “But this is not about me. It's about him. I only got one week to show him, that life is worth living and so far, I'm not sure if I made any progress on that mission...”

A sudden cold wind blew away the warmth on Hob's skin and he saw for a moment Desire's grin turn into a pout. They held up a hand and the warmth was back.

“There are certain ways you could give him something to live for”, Desire purred again.

“Not like this!”, Hob stopped them, before they could go into detail. “I... I'm not even sure, if he knows, what I feel for him... Dream said, that he doesn't, but... it'd been ages and... he can't be that thick, can he? I mean, I literally manipulated an immortal being into bringing him back. I took him home. Into my house. For centuries I've been pouring my heart out at every meeting and... and... I've build a whole bloody Inn just for him to find and meet me again. That's a bit more than what simple friends would do, right? Am I missing something here?”

Hob breathed heavily.
He hadn't intended to talk himself into almost a meltdown and yet here he was, all sweaty and so done.

Desire rolled from their couch and prowled over to him. He did his best not to flinch as they put their hands on his shoulders, his chest, his cheek.

“Poor Hob Gadling... in love with the most dense of all Endless... well, maybe Destiny wouldn't get it either, but at least he has his book to tell him, what's going on. My brother... Morpheus on the other hand... he loves and has loved, but it's always a mess. And in the end he blames me for bewitching his senses, when he'd done it all by himself.” They laughed. “As if I could manipulate him... And before you ask: I didn't make you fall in love with him. This is not my power. I may have... heightened your senses a bit. Oups. Sorry.”

They let go of him and walked over to a small table in a corner, Hob hadn't noticed until now.
Upon the table lay an iron bird skull, which Desire gently picked up.

“This time is different. He's not the the one to fall first. The relationship between you is not something he chose, nor did he force it.”

Hob, still standing at the same spot and not having moved one bit, wished nothing more than to disappear at that very moment.
To hear Desire to speak so nonchalantly over his feeling, which he kept safe like a little bird, but also hidden from the world to see... it hurt.

“So, yeah. He doesn't feel the same. Got it. Thanks. I guess, I can go now, yes?”, Hob spoke in a strained voice, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as if to protect his battered heart from more cruel words.

But Desire... Desire seemed surprised at his words.
Then they laughed.

“You're a funny one. I begin to see, why my brother couldn't let go of you.” They put the skull back down. “But you're dense as my brother. You didn't listen to what I've said, only what I've said.”

“...what?”

They laughed again.

“Whatever will become of you, isn't destined to fail like his other relationship, because he didn't force it. He didn't manipulate you to love him and still you do. That's what normally lets him fail. He's like a toddler. One moment he wants nothing more than that pretty little nymph and then he loses interest and is gone before she understands what happened. Same with the elf queen, the witch... well, the queen was a bit different. Horrible end though, too... But you...”

Desire strolled back to him and put their arms around his shoulders, smiling widely.

“You've been around for longer than anyone else and he still hasn't lost interest in you.”

“We've... we've only met once every hundred years. Hard to get bored, when you see each other so rarely”, Hob tried to argue, but he heard his voice failing.

“Don't put yourself down. Morpheus has hardly any interest in anything, that isn't his duty, but still he cared enough for you to look for you, when he broke out of his little prison. I've heard he even visited you some more after that and now he lives under your roof, shares your food... shares your bed. This isn't as hopeless as you think it is.”

It was hard to keep his thoughts straight, when with every breath Desire took, his libido threatened to overwhelm his mind, yet Hob had made it till this moment and he's be damned if he gave up now.
So he asked a very important question:

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying to help me? Or him? I thought you didn't like him.”

Finally Desire let go off him and Hob could breath a bit more freely again.

“I did”, they said, their back turned to Hob. “But sometimes you have to lose something to understand that you actually loved it... I don't want to harm my brother anymore. He has changed and so have I. If now I can help him become lucky for the first time in aeons... I'll try my best. And isn't it for your good as well?”

The wink Desire gave him, made him sweat, but he finally understood.

Morpheus had been concerned, that his siblings might be angry for him coming back, but actually they were all quite happy to see him.
At least all siblings they had met so far.

“I see...” Hob nodded. “Then... thanks for trying to help, but... please let me handle this my way, okay? It might not look like it, but most of the time, I know, what I'm doing.”

It was the second time Desire was surprised, but they quickly recovered.

“Alright then. I will leave you to your 'plan', but I'll stay nearby... just in case.”

With that Desire gave Hob a quick kiss on the cheek and... He woke up.

He was hot, sweating, his clothes clung to his skin and it was quite a task to steal himself from out under the covers and out of Morpheus' sleeping death grip.

It was 3 in the morning and he needed a shower.
Now.
Because no one escaped Desire unscathed.

Notes:

Another sibling! :D
Desire had quite a strong grip on poor Hob, so it was only logical for them to make an appearance.

In case you're wondering:
- Morpheus had Palak Paneer and Hob had Chicken Tikka Masala. Not that spicy, but already too much for poor Morpheus
- Why Indian Food? Why not? :D
- He chose Mary Poppins, because Death once suggested, that he should watch it
- The iron bird skull is Morpheus old sigil. Dream (Daniel) has something different now