I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream
I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam
And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem
But if I know you, I know what you’ll do
You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream
— Once Upon a Dream, Disney’s Sleeping Beauty

 

“Desire, these games of yours must stop.”

Desire listens to Morpheus drone his warning with the same leaden calm voice that the master of dreams always seemed to strive to maintain. It’s infuriating, as if Dream were above emotion itself.

“I don’t see why it must, brother dear,” Desire purrs back, all sultry irritation. They buff their long nails on their sleeve. “As far as I’m concerned, it can go on forever. I’m enjoying myself.”

“Well I, dear sibling, am not. And I have matters of importance to attend to with which your constant meddling interferes– to put it lightly.” Dream stands away, coat like a shroud around him, his eyes intense and judgemental.

Desire wishes that he could come closer.

“To put it lightly,” Desire repeats, lacing their fingers together. “So why doesn’t it feel light in your mouth? It feels as though you’d pin all the sins of the world on me, brother.”

“A great many of the sins of the world indeed flow forth from your domain, Desire.”

“And not from yours, Dream? I should be offended by your lack of responsibility– if I intended to claim any myself.”

“Lack of responsibility–” For a moment it seems like Desire has actually gotten a needle underneath their brother’s armor, before he smothers his reaction again, and Desire’s growing smile is smothered with it. “–Just what is it that you hope to accomplish with your petty tricks and distractions, Desire?”

Desire sits up, putting their arms around one knee, and leaning their chin on it to watch Morpheus like a cat.

“I can’t decide if your insistence that you don’t know the answer to that is more infuriating, or more enticing.”

Desire is quiet for a moment, and the two of them wait in opposition for what seems like an eternity in Desire’s pale little throne room. Perhaps an eternity does pass between them. It would not be the first time, after all. Desire wonders if they could withstand another.

Surely somewhere in the vast starfield of Dream’s cold gaze there is still love for them. Surely it hasn;t all turned to ice. Desire would prefer even poison.

All Desire has to do is find some way to draw it out. 

There must be some way that they haven’t tried yet.

“One last hand,” Desire declares finally. “One last hand and winner take all.”

Of course, Desire only intends to honor that if they are the winner; but they know Dream will take the bait if there is even the possibility that Desire will keep their word. He’s so serious; so predictable. 

Or maybe he always plays along because secretly it’s what he wants, too…

Morpheus hesitates for the length between heartbeats. “What game, Desire?”

“It’s a simple game,” Desire purrs. “You’ve played it before. This time, your power and mine will come together to create and shape the board.”

“What game, Desire.”

Desire smiles, and puts a finger to their lips. “A game of you.”

Dream is silent again for a moment. Maybe he is surprised. It is after all a bold, and dangerous move to suggest. But Desire is nothing if not bold. Fearless in their longing.

“And what are the conditions for ending the game?”

“Oh you’ll like this,” Desire coos. “All you have to do to win is stop wanting to play. But if you’re still there when the clock runs out, then I’m the winner.”

“This will be a very short game.” 

“Then do you agree?” Desire asks, sitting up on their knees and peering straight at Morpheus.

“I agree. Let it be done.”

Dream’s stoic expression doesn’t change an by an iota, not by an atom. But Desire breaks out in a wide, toothy grin, as they agree.

“Let it be done.”

There is a great surge and swelling like the energies of a building storm as the power of Dream and Desire intermingles. For once they are together in a way, as Desire has longed for, and there is an ecstasy in that. The power runs wild, directed by neither of them, but creating what it will. Their board, their playing field. The topography of Dream and Desire.

It is like a great and handsome chessboard, but it is an existence. It is not real, but it is not false either. It is something else.

Desire looks it over with fond satisfaction. Surely this time Dream will fall.

And then they are overtaken by the game.

And

Everything

Changes.

 

---

 

Des awakes slowly from the kind of nap that takes more from you than it gives.They remember no dreams, but fight through the groggy feeling that claws them back downward, the feeling as though they have left a part of themselves back in whatever darkness had claimed them while they slept. 

Their mouth tastes like ass, they have no idea what time it is, and for a single moment on waking, no idea even who they are.

Thankfully, it comes back as they open their eyes.

Des clutches their hand, long nails brushing their hairline as they sit up on the couch, looking around the livingroom. There’s a pizza box on the coffee table, and a couple of empty beer bottles. Des can’t remember if they’re theirs, or their brother’s.

“Must be mine with the headache,” they grumble, licking their lips and tasting old lipstick. Face will need a wash.

“Brother?” they call out. Is he home? Why can’t they remember their own brother’s name? Of course they do it’s– “Murph?”

Their brother Murphy sticks his head out from the other room, his messy black hair askew as always and falling in his face as he gives her a cool look.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah. I was dreaming, but I can’t remember…” Des frowns as they try to catch hold of the insubstantial memory, but it eludes them.

“I was just about to wake you up. You’re going to be late for class– do you want me to drive you?”

Des licks their dry lips, and smirks. “Well, I’m surprised you’d even offer, dear brother. Yeah, I’d love to take you up on a lift.”

“Then get a move on.”