Chapter Text
The first years of being turned into a statue Dream was lonely.
A stone block of imperfections, chipped bones, and ripped clothes. Yellow sun washed till it was dull and so unlike its vibrant, happy gold from before. What is left of his cape in tatters. Backed by a dead tree, surrounded in bloody burnt ruins.
Frozen in time but very much aware of what surrounded him, seeing, hearing yet no movement. A stone prison keeping him in place. Dream though about how he was to do his job if he was stuck but then realized there was no one to make happy anymore. He was useless, and so alone nothing living in miles, all killed by Nightmare's corruption that had since cleared out.
So here Dream was, forced to stare at the remaining rubble of homes and shops. The bodies of the dead strewn around like grotesque decorations. Some still hanging in trees where Nightmare had flung them in deep rage. Stuck in strange positions with twisted limbs and missing parts. He recognized a few of the torn, broken faces.
he wondered if any felt something other than fear when Nightmare's massacre started, if any survived the encompassing chaos.
he knows none did.
It didn't take long before the first bug appeared. Drawn in by the smell of the decaying, rotting bodies. Maggots and flies swarmed with an odd butterfly here and there. Drawing patterns in the sky as they flew. It was almost like the bugs could communicate with how they twirled around each other in a dance, never getting close enough to touch. It was almost beautiful in a way that made his SOUL ache.
But as they fluttered around in the air, they made an art work out of the bodies as they ate. winding tunnels and caverns appeared as the flesh fell in without support. The larva being crushed and forced to burrow its way out, reappearing just to turn around and dig right back in. It was gorey. It was nasty, but in a way it was art, a symbolism. he stood, stuck watching as the bugs gathered, slowly destroying the home they had carved after days in the flesh.
it took little time for Dream to get used to the ever changing sight. The remaining flesh disappearing quicker each day, and bones shifting as bugs bred. Watching the bugs take over was calming in a way. They seemed to burrow into his mind the same way they did the flesh. It was almost weird how much he related to the little worms. He wondered if they would have a happy ending so unlike his.
Months passed before the first bud appeared from a body, soon springing up in bounds. Another and another growing in harmony as they fought over nutrients, water and sun. Weeds and flowers growing around bones in the burned ashes of the village. Nature taking over the man made clearing now that no one was there to keep it in control.
It was breathtaking to watch flowers bloom in long dead carcasses, their roots spreading into the remaining bodies like false veins. Making a new home even as the bugs ate around them. Weeds spring up over time, no less pretty than the flowers from before. vines twisting and tangling with the fallen ruins of old stone and wood houses. Tying it all together in a network of life.
Animals started showing up not long after the flowers. Bunnies, wolves, birds, everything and anything. They made a new home around the almost covered bones and the since hidden ashes. They made homes just as the bugs did, burrows, and nests popping up wherever available.
Seasons past as Dream watched generations of creatures find home in the overgrown weeds. Watching in wonder as fur coats changed, White to gray to brown, spots turned stripes and so on. The ones not changing, dying quicker every day. It was baffling to watch the animals he used to know well turn unfamiliar even as he familiarized himself again and again.
Rain poured down in buckets one night, a single rabbits burrow collapsing under the weight of the water. That Rabbit hid under his stone body and moss grown cape until the rain stopped. It was remarkable how helpful Dream felt. Despite his lack of movement his old body was able to help. He saw that rabbit more often after that. It stuck around, bringing friends as they hopped around his feet and ducked under the frozen fabric of his once yellow cloke.
Months, years, centuries. greenery over took the statue in a never ending spring. small birds buildings a nest in his skull. vines creeping up his legs, and moss overtaking his cape and shirt. He was a part of nature now. He was a home, a landmark in the woods. Surrounded by flowers, trees, vines, He was surrounded by a thriving ecosystem. He felt connected to the things he had watched grow and die in a never ending cycle. Prey quicker, predators smarter, they changed to exist in the wonderful ecosystem they lived in.
It had been a millennium, and nothing looked the same. The leaves that swayed with a breeze he could not feel didn't exist before, the creatures he watched, the flowers they did not exist before. Everything was new, it wasn't perfect but it was his. His own place in the big world.
Dream had stopped thinking of being free many years ago. He had stopped thinking of people years ago.
But then.
He heard a voice.
Dream didn't cry, it was a fact. The sun shines, the rain falls and Dream didn't cry.
But at that moment, he wanted to.