(Author's Note: It really helps if you've read the Sandman in this chapter, but if you haven't: There are seven beings in existence that are the manifestation of certain concepts. Dream (who is featured here) Destiny, Destruction, Despair, Death, Delirium, and Desire. They all have realms and operate in them. The reason I had Spike visit the Sandman was to illustrate to him and to the reader that he must break outside the comfortable little world he had been living in because the future will be fraught with such necessity. He will visit other places in this story and it's sequel, not all of them will be as friendly, but Spike is becoming much more than what he has been and with power comes responsibility.)
Spike fell asleep that night not expecting anything odd to happen. It was a normal enough night in December. He and Buffy had just shagged each other senseless, like any other night. It was chilly so afterward they had donned pajamas and dug out Spike's electric blanket.
Maybe it was the heat of that. Or possibly Spike black flannel Rolling Stones sleep wear with the huge lips all over it from the Sticky Fingers album cover.
In any case, Spike had the weirdest night.
He woke up standing in a field by a trickling stream still clad in his pajamas.
But he knew this place. He'd read about this place.
Fiddler's Green.
He was dreaming about the Sandman. What's more, he was dreaming about The Dreaming.
A tall, cloaked figure was beside him then.
“Allow me to introduce myself, Vessel of the Maker, I am Morph-“
“Morpheus, I know. The Dream King, the Prince of Stories, you have many names.” Spike interrupted, starting to feel strangely like he should take charge before his dreams did.
“Ah, you have read the works of the Prophet Gaiman.” Morpheus nodded sagely.
“Prophet? I knew it! I knew no one was that good!” Spike muttered to himself, feeling a bit vindicated. Then something occurred to him, “Er, I'm not dreaming, am I?”
“Of course you are. You wouldn't be in my realm otherwise and I wouldn't have this opportunity to greet you formally.”
“No, I know I'm asleep. I meant that all that he wrote about must be real then, the Endless and all that. And you aren't fooling anyone, you just wanted to be first and no one's died, gone crazy, gotten suicidal and depressed, met a fate, destroyed a city, or been driven by lust around me just yet.” Spike arched one eyebrow, completely aware of the being's intentions.
Morpheus looked a bit startled, “Er, well. That is true. I'd like to show you my realm. You are considered a most honored guest in most places at the moment.”
Spike smirked, “I can think of a few I'll never be welcome.”
* * *
Spike met Cain and Abel, he strolled through a thousand dreams with the Sandman at his side, chatting with him and the raven, Matthew.
He visited Buffy's dream. It was an odd one. She and him were trapped in a Dollhouse and they had to stop having sex in order to get out but they couldn't seem to manage it.
Eventually they just realized they we happier in the Dollhouse than out of it and just stopped trying.
He had a feeling Morpheus could tell him how this new world he had found himself in worked exactly and he vowed to find out on future visits.
But he knew Morpheus would know nothing about his future, or his new changes. Spike suspected that no one but She would.
Regardless, when questioned, the Dream King offered to take him to his brother Destiny's realm in the near future to see if it was written up in that book of his.
* * *
“Farewell, Spike. I will see you soon. I would imagine you'll have the opportunity to meet the rest of my family before long.” Morpheus laid one hand on his shoulder.
Spike smirked a bit nervously, “If it's all the same to you, I'd rather it be later rather than sooner. You're the all right sort, but I'd prefer it too be a good long while before I have to run into any of your sisters because of what's going on back home.”
Morpheus thought about Death, Despair, and Delirium in the context of one who lives among mortals and winced in sympathy, “Yes, I would imagine you would. In any case, I met you first.”
Spike was certain the being had winked at him as he was waking up.
* * *
Spike immediately turned to Buffy, eager to tell her the truth about their favourite graphic novel series. She was just waking up and stretching adorably.
All at once, he realized she wouldn't believe him. She would want to, even convince herself that she did. But she wouldn't really.
And it was the same feeling he got when he felt the urge to tell her about his conversation with God.
He felt terribly alone just then. There was an entire aspect of his existence that he couldn't share with her, or Tara, or any of the others, because it was beyond them.
Even the Slayer was a mortal girl, albeit one chosen by the Powers. She did not converse with the Creator of the Universe because they had nothing to discuss. She had not changed, her goodness remained constant. She would die one day and move on to Paradise like any other good mortal.
But he was different.
Spike looked her, biting his lip. She sent him a warm sleepy smile and he felt his concerns dissolve.
What did it matter that he couldn't tell her of God or the Endless? She was here in his arms right now happy to see him.
And she had dreamed of him for Heaven's sakes. He felt flattered.
He kissed her full on the mouth and she broke away squealing and giggling, “Ew! No, I have morning breath! You can't kiss me until I brush my teeth!”
Spike took that as a challenge and game of Kiss the Stinky Slayer began.
* * *
Willow was worried about Xander.
He was acting more or less like himself. He'd make inane comments and tell stupid jokes.
But he wouldn't sleep anywhere but on Spike and Tara's couch. Willow heard him coming in every night.
She had tried to talk to him about what happened at the mansion exactly once, just afterward.
He jerked back and snapped him mouth shut and looked at her like she had betrayed him. Willow got the message.
He didn't want to talk.
But she knew he needed to, which was the purpose for the spell she was casting in the unused dorm room that was still under she and Buffy's names.
Spike had said magic must never be used to harm because there would be dire consequences and he had succeeded in planting that fear firmly in Willow's mind.
But she was helping now, right?
Willow had spent precious studying hours finding the perfect spell to help Xander and now that finals were over it was time to put it in place.
It was a spell of loquaciousness. It would enable the one it was cast over to speak their innermost thoughts.
Willow planned to cast it in the early hours while Xander slept, then she would make it home in time to here the words he needed to say and to break the spell right after.
No one would be hurt, and what needed to be said would be said.
What could go wrong?
* * *
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