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thestrangestinthisstrangeland · 2 years

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As We Lay Dreaming -chapter 8

warnings: aggressive drunken behavior. Mild domestic violence. Verbal abuse. Threat of assault but not acted on and every second of hurt is soothed by comfort.

summary: What comes is long overdue-- both in justice and in love-- but even in the best moment, Glory wonders if this is what's best for her, but she doesn't have to for long as the truth of Dream’s true feelings puts her mind and heart at ease--finally.

AO3

masterlist

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

There is a season (turn, turn, turn)

And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate

A time of war, a time of peace

A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing — the Byrds 1965

It would have been nice.

It was real cute.

Sunlight poured in through the east facing windows. The garden with tomatoes and peppers already on the vine just outside the back door. A kitchen bigger than any she'd ever cooked in and two bedrooms just for them. What a palace.

Glory drove home daydreaming about the little house for rent two towns over with her fingers crossed that the old beater car could run on what fumes were left in the tank. It was easy not to worry about it when she could focus on how much fun she and Loretta would have setting up her bedroom.

Her bedroom.

She paused her thoughts and sank down in the driver seat with a deep sigh and a big grin. Now that had a nice ring to it.

The kids would go on sharing theirs, but she would buy two beds now that she was working at the grocery store and could afford them. Dear old Josiah had said yes before she'd even finished asking if he needed a new cashier. Thanks to him her oldest boy would finally have his own space to spread out at night away from his siblings.

Glory imagined the walls painted yellow and pictured the pretty curtains she would hang just as a song came on the lone top 40 station that only played when she was close to town or in Loretta's bedroom. For exactly five minutes she found "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" envisioning places to hang her plants and where a new couch might fit before the static forced her turn the dial.

Still smiling Glory refused to lose her good mood. She could see it all so clearly.

This place would be hers alone and she would fill it with love. She would watch life grow within those walls— her little seeds, she thought with tears welling— hers to cultivate and nurture without threats and ugliness to ruin or rot what came so naturally to her. She could feel the weight lifting from her shoulders already and blew the breath out in a stream of realief.

Once she'd swung by and packed the kids up relieving their poor aunt Lo of her torment, she treated them to ice cream before heading down the long road home.

By the time they pulled up the dirt drive, the small patch of houses where hers sat was quiet and still and like the skilled mother she'd become, managed to get the kids inside without a single one of them crying and waking the neighbors. It never did make any sense to her why the first people to settle here looked on all this land and chose to stick a bunch of shacks practically on top of one another… easier for survival she supposed.

"Thanks mama" Raymond said as they went up the back steps.

"For what?" She asked, the baby asleep in her arms.

He just shrugged and went inside, leaving Glory to admire her boy and how his kindness made him beautiful inside and out.

It could have been a nice evening.

If not for the call.

Soon as they walked in the door, Glory could see it in his eyes.

"Phone call came for you." Her husband said, watching from his chair as she got the children cleaned up and ready for bed.

"Oh? Who was it?" Glory asked, wiping her daughter's face with a dish towel and smiling at the girl, reassuring her quickly.

"Some woman. Sounded uppity. Talkin' about you coming to sign some papers for– the apartment?"

Yes. Everything had been this damn close to being so, so, nice.

Glory was good at moving things along quickly, and her children, used to this as they were picked up on the shift in her energy and her change of pace. They could tell it was time to listen. Time to be quiet and time to go to bed. So when she made her tense promises that everything would be alright and forgot to leave the door open a crack for the middle boy.

Her oldest lay in the dark with his eyes wide open just listening.

"Hush, keep quiet." He told the little ones who lay there whimpering and talking to one another.

"Is mama okay?" His sister asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm scared." She said when something, probably a lamp or table with an ashtray, crashed.

"I said it's okay." He answered and turned over not wanting her to see him get upset.

When he listened very closely, he could hear his mother's pretty voice replying to his father's overbearing one. She would quietly insist that they not fight while he'd demand that they do otherwise.

Leave her alone!

He squeezed his eyes tighter, small fists curling into balls of rage.

Mama didn't know old Josiah had given him a little pocket knife last week when he came to walk her home (and maybe grab some penny candy too) Said boys needed their tools. He probably meant they needed to cut fishing lines and sharpen sticks.

Protection might fit in there somewhere? It must– and he would do anything to protect her.

Anything .

"Raymond Hill."

He shot up in bed, eyes open wide as plates.

A voice like thunder, but calm as a Sunday morning radio broadcast spoke from the dark, "She is not in danger. I would not let anything happen to her."

His little mouth dropped open as he realized, "You're him! The man from the store! I saw you!"

"Yes, you did."

"You're real!" He said, with a shiver. But then little Ray Hill smiled. "I knew it!"

"I am, yes. Very real." The man showed next to no emotion when he spoke. If there was any, all the boy could detect was a slight interest.

"Why can't they hear or see you?" He asked, looking down at his sleeping siblings.

"They can, but tonight I thought it best they sleep."

"You are one of the good guys, right? Like Superman?"

The man —the Sandman— stepped closer, and his eyes sparkled. Raymond thought maybe he should be more afraid but the truth was, he'd never been less afraid in his life. The only person who'd ever made him feel this safe was his mother, but even she was small. This man was so tall Ray wasn't sure how he fit in this tiny room. "Superman?" The Sandman thought about the title. He must have never taken the time to do that before. "If you'd like."

"That's why she likes you." Ray decided.

"Who?"

"Mama"

The Sandman actually looked surprised, like he didn't realize a kid would know grown folks business.

"Perhaps."

Ray looked over to the shut door and listened to the sound of their voices. "He's gonna hurt her."

"I assure you he is not."

"How do you know? You don't live here!"

"Your mother is much stronger than she realizes. I am only here to make sure that she does not hurt herself in the process of — uncovering her truth."

He scrunched his nose, not understanding. "You mean she's like superman too?"

"What? No. Not at all, but I have my suspicions about her in the best of ways." He said and let his sparkling eyes fix on Ray one last time, "I must go now. It was good to meet you in the waking world. Your dreams are some of the more creative for

a child your age. You have your mother's gifted imagination,"

The boy grinned and fell back onto his pillow content and for the first time in a while he felt hope. Not because the Sandman was real, but because no matter what that white man said, he knew his mother was a superhero."

"Don't you dare touch me" Glory warned in a husky whisper, her eyes fierce but the seriousness missed on her drunk husband.

He withdrew the raised hand waving her away like she wasn't worth the effort. "That's the problem. Been touchin' you too long. I need to get away from you. You suck me dry. Take all my– what they call it? Mojo?" He thought that was funny. His dark frown peeled back into a wide bright grin that became a laugh which stopped abruptly making Glory flinch. "I used to want things! I was onto something with my music! You took it!" He staggered close to his wife, stinking of what she guessed to be moonshine. "I wanted out of this place and you dragged me down. You and all these damn kids. Got me trapped and didn’t even take my name! What kinda mess is that?"

Glory stood there, watching him from the corner of her eye as he swayed. Her jaw clenched as tightly as she clutched her arm where his grip had been. Physically, he hadn't actually done much more than that. Tonight it seemed words would land all his blows, but sometimes those hurt much more.

"Never went down to the courts.” She said casually. “Having a shotgun wedding in a church doesn't mean a thing to the state without the papers but you wouldn’t take me!”

”For what? You're mine! Got all my damn kids. Lay in my bed…” he looked her up and down like she disgusted him “You think you’re really special don’t you. Think you’re better than everyone else from around here. But you ain’t nothin but a spider. Trapped me in your web. I should have run when I had the chance”

“Go!" She spat at him, "Please. Please."

"Ha! And what?" He laughed in her face "What then Glory? You payin' for this house? For food? Nah see, that's all me! How you think the lights turn on and the water runs. I know it ain't no boarding house, like your little voodoo friend, but it's better than what you could give! You aint shit without me. You ain't nothin' but a face… and this." He reached grabbing at the long patchwork skirt she wore, implying her body beneath, but Glory swatted his hands fighting. "Now come on, and get back in that bed where you belong. That's all you're good for anyway. Maybe you'll give me another boy." He laughed loud and nasty and fell against the sink nearly collapsing onto her.

Glory jumped away, tears streaming down her face as she shoved him aside, but just that hint of defiance woke the beast inside and he grabbed her arms pulling her close as he seemed to sober up in an instant, enough to stand tall over her and become the threat she knew.

She held in a scream for the sake of the children and planted her feet eyeing the kitchen for one of the knives. She'd kill him before she let him lay a finger on her body again. Not again. She couldn't bear it. Not after knowing love.

But she wouldn't have to.

The sands swirled around his face like specs of gold dust and his hold on her loosened.

Unwilling to help him, useless anyway from the shock of seeing magic in the waking world, Glory stood and watched as his eyes rolled back and the look on his face went from angry drunk to drooling idiot as he slowly sank to his knees. He looked up at her, sightless. He flashed a smile like a little boy, but that look melted quickly as he whispered something about "taking fire" and mumbling names she didn't know.

War dreams.

He fell over onto his side curling in like a baby.

The house was silent again.

"Reggie?" She stared down at him sleeping.

Sleeping?

No. It couldn't be…

Glory looked up.

In the doorway, waiting patiently for her to notice, was Dream.

The worlds had crossed over before, more than once now. She had the ability to do it, but not like this. She'd been so focused on saving herself from him tonight that she couldn't possibly have brought Dream here, but….

"Hello Glory."

She gasped, stepped back, hands gripping the sink.

The world broke into blocks of color and sound around them. Little squares of light that floated away until the only solid thing left in the black space was him, but she was not asleep and dreaming. She'd never been more awake.

"How can this be?" She shook her head in disbelief. "You can't be here."

He came into the kitchen, his face hinting at a fond memory as he spoke. "A woman once stood at the edge of a dream and told me that anything was possible. I am here."

The breath she held came out in a rush with a smile and Dream crossed the room, extending his hand for her to take and bring her away from her husband who was now lost to a deep sleep on the kitchen floor.

Glory and Dream came to a stop in the doorway standing very close, looking one another over. He ran the back of his hand over the curve of her cheek sighing softly as Glory closed her eyes. "Are you hurt in any way?" He asked already knowing the answer but asking just the same.

"No," She answered, opening them to look down and around at herself for a missed injury.

"Good." He looked at the lamp light in her hair, felt the sticky residue of icecream on her arm where one of the kids had dropped their cone. "Then get your things."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You can not stay here" He said really looking around for the first time. She watched him take in the little house she'd tried so hard to make a home over the years but it had never been easy. "This place, it's not fitting for my woman or her children."

She could hear him talking. His lips moved as he spoke but she still could not fathom how— how? "Dream?"

"Yes Glory."

He looked so— alive. Where was the beautiful being who lived inside her sleeping mind. This was a man. Tall and white as a birch tree without its stripes. His black hair was still wild but it obeyed the laws of gravity here and for just a moment she thought perhaps she was being tricked but Glory felt the familiar stirring when she looked into his eyes that shone like the North Star doubled on black skies. Her full lips pulled up into a reactionary smile. This was undoubtedly the Prince of all her Stories and all she'd ever wanted. But how?

And Dream, seeing her in the flesh, not just through the veil of magic felt a similarly overwhelmed. It was unusual for one of his kind to know such emotion but he stood there and felt it all the same. He smiled back and Glory— have mercy on the poor woman—was undone.

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. The soft cotton of her white knit top clung to her skin as tight as she did to him while trying to make sense of it all.

The stars were bright as they trailed down her body. There was something very special about seeing her like this that Glory was not aware of. Through the tiny eyelets of her cream colored top he caught glimpses of her skin in such a pretty contrast— skin that glowed with the finest sheen of sweat from the southern heat. He could hear her heartbeat racing. Really hear it, not like he did when she was asleep, here she was like a live wire, should he touch her too long she might send him flying with a jolt of life.

But, reserved as always, Dream simply spoke, "Stop trying to make sense of how. Just know that it can be done. I've come to your world before, I will come again. Yes, I am here." He was holding back a smug smile. She could tell. Was she that easy to read?

Who cares.

Reaching up, needing nothing more than to touch him in this world, Glory first felt the high arch of his cheekbone, followed by the soft curve of his lips. His eyes closed.

"You feel like me. Like flesh and bone." She said.

Dream opened his eyes, holding her in the light of his stars for a moment before he bent down to kiss her.

Being with him, sharing such intimacy inside the dreaming was already so hard to describe for Glory. To touch and taste him here in the waking world pulled words from her mind in a swirling stream of nonsense– a soft moan wrapped in fluttery lace– prose that would make the most overly dramatic turn away with flushed cheeks.

She could do nothing to stop her reactions of the mind or body. All she could do was give into what happened naturally with a smile against his lips.

Glory's quiet laughter hummed between them. She loved him, asleep and awake, She loved him.

"Do you believe me now?" Dream asked cradling her face, still close but no longer kissing.

"Oh I believed you before you walked into the kitchen, just didn't know how."

He made a face, like he'd been bamboozled and she laughed pushing him away.

"Oh but Dream, look. What do I do? I can't leave him this way!" She leaned over peeking under the table to see her husband still curled over and twitching in his sleep. "He's evil, but to be trapped in that place…"

"You would protect him? After everything?"

"No. I would only have him pay for his wrongs."

"This is payment Glory. This is justice." He said and she stood, turning to look up at him. His voice had gone very dark.

"Maybe you're right, but." She looked over her shoulder, not able to see him but she knew well enough. "Reggie wasn't born this way. None of us are. His daddy wasn't any better than him. Then they shipped him off when he was no more than a baby himself. What he saw over there– well– I'm thankful I don't know. What he brought back with him just woke up what was already inside. What his daddy and this country had already created a long time ago."

Dream looked in her eyes that stared right back into his own without showing her usual signs of humanity. No fear, no worry, she did not care that he was endless. She would have him do as she wished and, truth be told he would do it.

What had she done to him?

"Tell me then." He offered "Let's be done with it."

"Just let him see. Give him…"

Glory turned and walked around the table looking down at her husband with Dream never taking his eyes from her. She really was the most beautiful…

"Dream?"

"I'm listening."

"Give him-- dreams of me,"

"Of you?"

"Yes. Me. No, not of me. Me. I want him to live my life, the last ten years. But let him know it. Let him know who he is. Let him be a passenger so that he can know what it's like being married to him."

"You have a talent for this." Dream said, coming to stand at her side, eyeing the woman as an equal.

Eyes on the sleeping man now, Dream, pulled his pouch, drew the sand and lowered to say the words, "Reginald Davis. We give you the gift, of Glory's Nightmare." He blew the sands that worked their charm as he rose to stand next to Glory again.

Watching him, Glory noticed that Reggie's face at peace for a while, he even looked happy-- until slowly but surely it began to twist and change, He curled further in on himself. His right hand flying up to shield his head, and Glory turned away, finding comfort in the black coat of the Dream King.

"I don't know, this is all I've ever wanted" She said quickly shoving her clothes into the suitcase. Dream stood watching in the bedroom. "But now that it's here, I just– well I'm afraid I guess."

"Change can be a frightening thing"

"You love change." She said glancing back, a dress draped over her forearm.

"I don't love change. I love very few things." He replied factually. "Change is inevitable and trying to stop it from happening has always proven to be a waste of effort in my experience. However. You can make change happen for the better."

"Is that was this is?" She paused looked around, looked at the room, her shoes by the closet door, on her mother's lace overtop the dresser with her picture and some books. She looked at the window, open as always and the bed where she would lay and go to the one who stood here now ready to take her away… to where and to what? "You know I'm not sure I want to be saved by another man."

"You feel I'm saving you?"

"I think you think you are. I was ready to do it on my own."

"He would never have let you."

She paused, thought of the heap lying in the kitchen living her nightmare. "I know but… well what do I owe you? I know you're not really a man but you have needs same as all the rest. Until now you had nothin on me. If I let you do this, take care of me— I'm yours just like I was his. Same situation all over again. I can't do it again. I can't," She whispered feeling her breath grow shallow.

Dream was there pulling her up before she could sink down onto the bed. "Owe me? I have been known to hold people to their debts yes, but this, Glory" he said her name like it was a word of life and magic and love. She looked up and wished so badly that he could for just a moment not look like this. It would be easier to talk to him if he were plain and blunt and flat. Not this facet of light like the edge of a cut gem. "You owe me nothing. I will never ask anything of you. Not even that you return my love. I want only one thing."

"And what is that Morpheus?"

"That you and your children live safely, comfortably, maybe even have time to laugh as your kind do. I have heard each of you laugh Glory and it is a sound that I could listen to until it fades from this world" He admitted outloud and probably to himself.

She forced the smile away and the tears. "Where would you take us?"

"I own several properties. One is not far. I have transportation waiting if you decide it's what you want."

She looked away thinking "If you show even the slightest change, I'll go. I can't live like a caged bird."

"And I would never cage you."

With a nod she let herself smile. "Did you… did you say something about your love for me?"

"Ah, that did come out didn't it." He said looking only slightly embarrassed.

She grinned up at him and even though the night was strange and bittersweet, Glory put her arms around the waist of the endless that had left his kingdom for her. "It's alright. I already know."

"What do you know, Glory Hill?"

"That you love me."

He looked dangerous, dark, beautiful. "Is that so?"

She scrunched her nose as she nodded. "Mhm. How far is it? That walk from your world to mine?" She asked to prove her point.

With one hand, on her shoulder he looked away. "Time is not measured with words in the Dreaming."

She felt a tingle in the back of her brain. She hadn't thought of it while awake but asleep she knew the feeling.

"Neither is space. But I stepped off the tallest mountain. Fell through the darkest ocean." He looked down and ran his hand over the soft black coils of her hair. "I walked the shores of white sands and up the steps of a great ruin to come to your door."

"Because you love me?" She asked again, the humor gone, only the need to hear him say it left.

"Because I love you."

Glory swallowed, the angle of her neck allowing Dream to watch the way her throat moved. His thumb grazed the delicate skin. He could slip this shirt from her shoulders, and pull that skirt off her hips. He could also wait and see her safe and sound to her new home...

"But you already knew." He smiled.

Glory laid her head to his chest, the black fabric of his shirt as soft as her first memory of love. She held him tight. "I already knew."

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