Deal with a Demon

seventeen

"Hi, Dream," said the man at the table. "It's lovely to see you again."

Dream almost growled. He wanted to snap Wilbur's neck right then and there, but he had to remember that killing the brunette in his own house would only result in more problems for himself.

"Funny how you stole my stone and proceeded to break it, yet I heard no apology whatsoever." His gaze was turned only to Dream, but he looked as if he didn't care about the conversation at all.

Dream wasn't angry, he was pissed. He had just made up with his friends, tonight was supposed to be a chill night with George . God, he was planning on doing so much with George- to George- all day, and now all those plans were crossed out. With bite, he shot back, "Yeah, well, you're supposed to be dead twenty years ago, so you're one to talk."

Wilbur finally moved, just the smallest twitch in his lip showed Dream that he was upset. "Oh yeah? And who killed me, then? Because I very vividly remember you telling me that you'd never hurt me?"

Yeah, so maybe Dream had lied to Wilbur all in an effort to set him up and later on suffocated him to death. Honestly, that was all the past. He was totally a changed man now. He hadn't killed someone in months .

In lieu of Dream's response, Wilbur continued. "I trusted you, Dream. And, unlike you, trust means something to me." He scoffed. "Now you'll finally get what's coming to you, as an untrustworthy traitor."

Dream had so many questions to ask Wilbur. How was he alive? Why was he still here when the stone was destroyed? But instead, he settled on, "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Emotional damage," Wilbur practically sang. "Killing only you isn't enough, you need to see all the people you hold close fall apart in my hands."

Dream felt like he was on fire. "Isn't that against your hunter rules?"

The brunette scoffed, dialing back a cough as he did. Surely, it was the broken stone's effects wearing off. Maybe it simply took a while to return to the land of the dead. "I don't play by the rules anymore."

Wilbur's voice was so low, face so serious, that Dream believed him. This Wilbur was completely different than the one he'd befriended over twenty years ago. He wasn't kind or considerate anymore. All that remained was his intense wit. And now, there was an added coldness, a darkness surrounding Wil's entire frame.

Dream knew from the beginning that the Wilbur brought back from the dead wasn't the same. He knew it when they'd first met again, and every encounter since. That didn't make him feel better though, it still hurt- he'd cried a lot after he'd completed the ritual back then. Now, he was more in control over his emotions. He'd learned to hold in a lot as of late.

Wilbur stood up suddenly and was in front of George in moments. "You seem to have a strong liking toward this human lately. I wonder if anything will happen to him..."

Dream was stepping in front of George in a second, shielding him from Wilbur's intense gaze. "If you touch him," he snarled, "You'll experience a pain worse than death."

Wilbur grinned. "Chill, Dream. It really would be a pain, though..."

George placed his hands against the vampire's shoulder blades, and Dream knew then that his human was scared. Wilbur took one more look at the pair, smiling, before walking back to his original chair, crossing his legs, and leaning back as if he owned the place.

"You never did ask me how I'm still alive?" he suggested crookedly.

Dream rolled his eyes, "It's because of the Enderstone."