Fandom: The Sandman (TV-2022)
Genre: Alternative Universe
Word Count: 2372
Characters: Dream of the Endless, Death of the Endless, Rodrick Burgess, Alexander Burgess, Jessamy
Warnings: No Warnings
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40926834
Summary:
What if Jessamy had managed to escape from Alex's gun and could inform the Endless of Dream's Capture? What if Death could save Dream only after a few years of capture? The tools are still lost, but he has his sibling's help.
Dream sat hopelessly in the transparent cage his captors had placed him in 10 years ago. To an endless, while it was still a decade, it felt quicker to him than the humans that stood guard. He kept his stoic expression, blank but bringing fear to the on-lookers, but inside? Inside he felt ashamed. How could one of the endless be captured by humanity and remain captured for their amusement as if he was a side-show to look at, or a farm animal to gift power to them? He was exposed to all of them, not just emotionless but physically. Forcefully displayed in his personified form; not that he cared too much of that, but the cold still sometimes got to him if it was strong enough. He wanted his robes back, he wanted to feel secure and safe back in the dreaming but he couldn't. He was stuck. Stuck for who knows how long.
"Alright King of Dreams," A deep voice snapped him out of the trance he had put himself in. His face was unmoved, but his silver eyes raised to meet his guest. Roderick Burgess stood opposite the cage, towering over him like a General barking orders with a cane in his hand. "Are you going to give me what I want, or do you want to wallow away for another decade until you do?" He asked, pursing his lip and staring. Dream stared right back. He knew what his captor wanted, his son back from the dead, immortality and youth. But he couldn't do it. Even if he wanted to, it wasn't his jurisdiction nor his ability to give out. If he did have his ruby he could at least grant one but why should he willingly give his captor what they wanted?
Dream continued to stare, his dark eyes unmoving and expression still. Burgess waited a few minutes, like usual when he came for his demands, before turning on his heels. " Fine," He snapped. "We'll see what you say next year." Without much thought, he exited through the stone doors to the basement, leaving the guards to stand watch. Like always, the guards eyed Dream up and down, in bewilderment, terror and conceitedness all rolled into one. They believed him to be a demon, a devil, but he is but a dream in the daylight.
The room was back to the silence that he had to endure, it made his mind wander. Did his family know of his predicament, of course, they must have. Right? They are probably watching him be tormented by loneliness and at the mercy of a mortal. He could imagine Desire laughing with Despair in their chambers, fixating on his powerlessness over the situation. How could the mighty King of Dreams be toppled so quickly? Despair was probably writhing in joy over his misery, something she rarely showed at the best of times. What about Death? Destiny? His older siblings have always said they would protect him, leaving him to sit naked in a sphere. What have they all got to gain?
More days passed, maybe months, but who could count? Dream was, like usual, sitting in the sphere meditating, daydreaming, blocking out the world. He was quickly taken out of this by the loud THUNK against the glass. He jolted up, he hadn't heard footsteps of the mortal's approach. He gave a smile as he noticed what it was. His side-kick, his emissary, his raven; Jessamy. Jessamy flew continually at the sphere, trying to break the glass but to no avail.
Loud footsteps began to approach the holding chamber, Dream shooed Jessamy away and returned to his stoic expression as she flew into the rafters. Around the corner appeared Alex, the Burgess' son, reading a shotgun that pointed straight towards the glass orb. Dream stared into the barrel from afar. He could see the teen boy subtly shaking as he tried to keep it upward.
Alex took a deep but shaky breath, keeping it pointed. He could do it, shoot and the glass would break and the demon they kept in the basement could be free. It's not like he wanted to hurt Dream, he hated his presence here. His father's obsession with the creature of the endless. He could end it all here. He held his finger over the trigger, slowly resting on it and pulling only slightly.
"What are you doing?" Rodrick Burgess' voice boomed out, echoing across the basement that even startled Dream for a moment.
"I.. err.." Alex spluttered out as Rodrick pulled the gun away from his son.
"If that shot you would have shattered that. You would have let him loose! What were you thinking, boy?" Alex shook his head shyly.
"I thought I saw the bird, the raven, come down here."
"Poppycock. A bird can't open doors. A bird can't navigate here."
"But."
"No. Get out." Rodrick pulled at Alex's shoulder to escort him out. Rodrick turned to guards that Dream finally noticed were standing behind him. "Make sure that no one gets in here. Not even him." He pushed Alex out the door, turning back to Dream with a smirk before leaving himself.
After a few moments, the door to the basement was slammed shut and Dream was back alone, except for the raven nesting in the rafters. It flew down, standing on the floor in front of the orb looking up at its master.
"Jessamy, does Lucienne know what has happened to me?" The raven shook their head. "Does anyone know?" The raven shook their head again? Dream sighed. "I need you to leave me and go back to The Dreaming. I can't have you killed here. Tell Lucienne of my situation." The raven was hesitant but nodded, lifting off of the ground and flying around the room before it disappeared into nothing.
Dream smiled to himself, maybe there was hope for his release.
Months went by before Dream had seen or heard from Jessamy, or even Lucienne. He was sure that his release would come swiftly after the raven's departure but no. Why? Did something happen to Jessamy, to Lucienne, to the Dreaming? What if something had happened to the Dreaming due to his absence? Dream couldn't bear to think of his one passion in dust and decay and tried to put it from his mind as much as he could, but with very little to occupy his mind in his prison, it was relentless. He hadn't been gone this long before from his realm, nor had many of the other Endless except for his brother and his realm was nothing but tatters. He didn't want that. He didn't want all of his creations to end up destroyed or missing.
He snapped out from his rabbit hole of thoughts to a commotion upstairs. Men were shouting; no screaming as gunfire spattered across the surfaces of the brickwork but swiftly came to a halt. He could hear footsteps rushing to where the gunfire was, only for another flurry of shots to start and stop just as quickly.
"I'm not bowing to you if that's what you think" Rodrick's voice boomed from upstairs, he always had such a loud voice that could be heard from anywhere. Dream listened carefully. "I don't have them!" Burgess shouted again. He was most definitely talking to someone. Another loud thud sound from upstairs, followed by something ceramic smashing onto the wooden panelled floor. A small pause was followed by heavy footsteps approaching the basement, three sets of footsteps? He gathered one was Rodrick and one may be his son, but who was the third? A guard? The head of the household's girl, Ethel Cripps? Couldn't be. They seemed too heavy.
Dreamed eyed the door eagerly, but his face still showed nothing more than his stoic expression. He wondered who might be paying him a visit, especially after the commotion that came with their arrival. As soon as the guest turned the corner with Rodrick Burgess in hand and the son anxiously inching forward nothing could stop Dream's smile from finally appearing on his face.
He stared at Death, his older sister, who wore a well-tailored pants-suit and gripped Rodrick by the collar tightly pushing him in front.
"Release him." She ordered. Her voice was hard to specify, with it being stern but also charismatic. Scary but calming. Burgess shook his head, also trying to release himself from her grip. He managed to get free, only from Death letting him loose. Burgess snapped back, rightening himself as he put himself between Dream and Death. Alex stood to the side, sheepishly watching the show; he side-eyed Dream who caught him staring, and turned away. Death took a step forward. "Release him." She repeated.
"Make him give me what I want, and I will." He demanded. Death cocked her head. "Tell him to give me my son back."
"Your son back?" She calmly asked. Burgess watched her for a moment, seeing how genuine she was being, which he deducted was quite a bit.
"He's gone. I want him back. And he can make that happen." Death showed she was confused but she knew what he meant. "He's dead." Death nodded.
"I know." Burgess watched her. "I escorted him off. He went willingly. He was proud of what he did and had done in the grand scheme of things."
"But he had more to do."
"He didn't think so. He was happy to go." Burgess shook his head in disbelief.
"Fine. But I'm not letting him out without the other things I want." Death sighed, fed up with the conversation. She hated listening to his excuses and pleads of power but she knew that without one of the mortals breaking the magic circle, Dream was not to be free.
"I want immortality."
"Okay." Death conceded. Burgess' eyebrows dropped in disbelief. "I will give that to you if you release my brother."
"I want it first, so I know you won't break our deal."
"Fine." Death was getting more fed up the longer it took. She lifted her head slightly as the invisible powers entered his body. Rodrick watched Death closely. "There."
"I don't believe you." Death rolled her eyes.
"Of course, you don't." Death stepped forward, reaching down to her boot and producing a small knife. She handed it to Rodrick. "Cut your hand" He stared at her sceptically but did so, cutting deeply into his own hand. Dream watched on from his orb, his eyes darting back and forth from Rodrick to his sister. Did she really give him the powers of immortality? For him? She would break the rules of the endless for him?
Rodrick's eyes widened with delight as the wound of the knife healed over as quick as he could blink; he felt no pain from it either, only a small scratch as if from a cat. He looked back to Death whose hand was held outstretched for her knife back.
"Believe me?" She asked. Rodrick nodded. Alex watched as his father moved to the orb in the centre of the room, tracing his foot over the circle of runes on the floor and smudging a line out; leaving a clear break in its walls. Dream watched him with a smile. At this point, he didn't care about what was coming to his captors, only that he could leave his confinements. All eyes were on Rodrick's foot. He turned back and was met with Death lodging a knife into his chest. Rodrick looked betrayed. "What I give. I can take away just as easily." Death smiled as she pulled it out.
Rodrick staggered backwards, staring at his wound and the gushing blood that came from it. He took one step, two steps, before tripping on his own foot, sending him flying backwards. His head cracked against the thick glass of the orb and fell to the floor with a large thunk.
Alex watched in horror, his eyes raising to the two endless that now looked at him. Alex could feel his heart racing, but he was frozen. He didn't know if it was his own doing or the mystical work of the endless. He just watched. Death stepped closer to him, her head raised.
"Stop." Dream piped up. Death turned to him inquisitively. "He won't do anything. Please… Just help me out of here." Death nodded and smiled, stepping closer to the glass prison. Her eyes glanced around the different edges before finally settling on a hidden latch, which she quickly undid letting the front swing open. She held out her hand for him to take.
Once out, Dream stretched, letting out a pent-up sigh he had been holding for years. Death averted her gaze, not wanting to stare upon her brother's naked body, even if it wasn't real. Dreams arms dropped. He looked to Alex, stepping forward menacingly.
"Where are my tools?" He asked. Dream could barely make out that he was shaking his head as a response. Dream asked again. "Where are my tools?" Alex slowly opened his mouth, trying to gain the courage to speak.
"I don't know."
"Where did he keep them?"
"They're gone." Dream's eyes widened in anger.
"Where are they!" He raised his voice. It was rare for Dream to show any other emotion, but today was an unusual exemption.
"I don't know! They were stolen. He doesn't have them," Dream's breaths were heavy, the feeling indescribable between despair, anger and loss. Dream turned back to Death. "Stolen," He said calmly to her. He turned back to Alex. "Get out!" He shouted. Alex took this opportunity to turn and run. He was through the basement doors and up the stairs as soon as Dream had uttered the words.
Dream stared at the floor, replaying the words in his mind on repeat.
Stolen. Gone.
Death stepped forwards, reaching her hand out to touch his shoulders. He turns to her. She could see tears forming in his eyes that he was trying to hold back. "We'll find them. We'll figure this out." She reassured him. He nodded. "Now, can we please get you some clothes, I don't want to see… that… anymore." Despite his lowered mood, he could let out a small, breathy laugh.
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