It takes me a moment to understand Dream's vague answer, but when it does register I frown and pull away from him, casting my gaze to the side. My brows crease as unease pools inside my stomach like a bad drink.

"You...won't take anything else, will you?" I ask testily.

His answer is immediate. Determined. "No. I won't."

I bite my lip, eyes darting to and fro as I do invisible calculations. What Dream has asked for is...quite frankly a bitch move. He knows how bad I need him, and he's taking full advantage of it. Affection alone, for once, isn't enough to sway him to my side. Not when he knows it's Schlatt he'll ultimately be helping. Out of everyone in this cave, Dream is the one who most wants to see him dead. So of course the price is going to be high. But is it too high?

"Schlatt will never agree," I comment, glancing to the masked man. He's still crouched down, attention focused unnervingly on me.

"Schlatt doesn't have to know. This is a deal between us, not him."

"It would take time, too. I don't know where he keeps the book."

"I can wait."

I'm making excuses. I know I am. Maybe I'm hoping Dream will change his mind—will make an easier request. It's my own fault he even knows about the book. So I can't even blame Dream for wanting it. Who wouldn't want the power of life and death in their hands? The power of a god? Then again would there be much difference if Dream had the book instead of Schlatt? I'd basically be passing it from one tyrant to another.

"Are you saying you can't do it?" Dream's question is full of mirth as he tilts his head. He's enjoying my mental struggle, because really this is a deal he can't lose in. I'm the only one with anything to lose.

I shoot him a glare, "of course I can do it. I said that I'd do anything, didn't I?"

I stand and so does he.

Turning away I push my fingers through my hair, loosening my braid, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

A hand tugs at my braid, followed by a hum from Dream, "it is interesting to see how far you'll go for the bastard. But I do have one question."

"Yes?"

"If you're so worried about him kicking the bucket, why not just ask for the book so you can resurrect him yourself? In fact, why are you bothering to ask for my help at all? It makes no sense."

When I say nothing, Dream presses on, his suspicions growing, "but you've already thought about that, haven't you? You're too smart not to. Hey, are you going to say something? I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," I sigh, turning back to face him. My expression is uneasy. Uncomfortable. "I think about it all the time. How easy it would be to bring him back. To keep him by my side. But then I remember my experience of coming back and I realise that I could never put Schlatt through that. I'd rather he stay dead than make him into a fractured mess like me."

"What do you mean fractured?" Dream asks, and I know his eyes are narrowing.

"Bringing someone back from the dead isn't an easy job," I explain, my hands coming up to grip my arms, "it takes practice. You don't just spout a few words and suddenly they arise good as new. Or at least, this is how Schlatt described it—he's never let me actually read the book. But he has told me that I'm the closest he's ever come to creating a perfect person. That the others were incomplete in their resurrection."

I look up into Dream's mask, to where I know his eyes are staring straight into me and my broken soul. "I'm also incomplete. There are parts of me that are missing, or simply don't fit together right. I know it's probably not that obvious on the surface, but I can feel it." I reach a hand over, not to my heart, but to my stomach. "I'm...missing my womb. And I don't bleed, either. I'll never have children, not that I really wanted any to begin with."

When Dream simply stares I push on, giving more details, hoping the gruesomeness of it all will put him off ever using the book even if he does get his hands on it.

"I haven't grown an inch since coming back, which is an interesting one," I joke with a sad smile. "And I don't dream, either. But I suppose the biggest piece of the puzzle is my wings—they never grew back, not that I'm entirely sure they would have. Schlatt told me that the book can heal everything except for the wound that killed you. And for me, that was the loss of my wings."

"I...didn't know," he mutters, folding his arms. He looks away then back to me again, thinking over my words. "And you'd really prefer Schlatt dead?"

"Yes. As awful as it sounds. I'd rather he rests peacefully than lumber around as half the man he used to be. I don't want him to be like me. I don't think he could manage it."

"And if he thinks otherwise? If he wants to be brought back despite the risks? What would you do?"

I hesitate, genuinely considering the question. "I wouldn't do it, I don't think... I couldn't do it."

Dream hums and takes my hand, bringing me against his chest in a brief hug. "Then it's decided. You get me that cursed book, and I'll protect your shitty president."

"Thank you," I sigh, nuzzling into his jacket. It smells like it always does—of pinewood and musk. It makes me realise how much I prefer to be surrounded by trees compared to these cold cave walls. "Can we leave now? I don't need to hear anymore."

"Sure, just give me a minute to see to something."

Dream pulls away, pushes a strand of hair from my face, then turns and starts to descend the stone stairs.

"Dream!" I hiss, alarm rocketing up into my brain. What the hell is he doing?! They'll see him!

Too late I hear the exclamations of surprise as Dream is spotted, and I silently curse, inching over to the edge of the stairs.

"Hey, guys. Miss me?" Dream greets, raising a hand to the gathered group. I just about see the heads of Tommy and Quackity, gaping up at the masked man. Instead of walking right up to them, Dream stops halfway down the stairs at a comfortable distance.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Dream?" Quackity challenges, unused to the man's presence compared to the others who have grown used to him popping in without invitation.

"Just comparing notes. I have some information I thought you'd be interested to hear." He explains casually, leaning up against the wall.

"And what is it?" Wilbur asks, his eyes narrowing.

"While I can't give you exact details, let's just say I've been promised something nice in exchange for joining Manburg's cause."

"You're joining Schlatt?!" Tommy exclaims, Fundy and Quackity joining in with his outcry.

Wilbur's voice is cool as he asks what Dream was offered.

"Something that your little rebellion can't provide." Is his answer.

"Is it money? Women?" Tommy tries to guess, desperation clear in his tones, confusion gleaming in his eyes.

Dream hesitates, and I hear his smirk as he says, "well, there's at least one woman involved."

"Ares?!" Fundy cries out, his fur prickling with panic, "there's no way Schlatt offered you Ares! He wouldn't! He's obsessed with her!"

Discomfort creeps through my stomach at Fundy's obvious concern for me. I don't want him to worry for me. He's lied about so much, right from day one of joining the cabinet. He never cared for Schlatt or Manburg. His sweet words were nothing more than to gain Schlatt's trust so he could divulge his deepest secrets. And just how many of those secrets are about me? How much did he write in that diary about our relationship? Did he agree to date me because he actually found me appealing, or was it to get in close and see what I knew about Schlatt? He's such a good liar that not even I realised what he was up to. And now I don't know if I'll ever be able to believe another word out of his mouth.

I want him to stop saying my name...

"Who said anything about the deal being with Schlatt?" Dream says, and looks over his shoulder, straight up at me peeking around the stone. "Isn't that right, bean sprout?" He holds out his hand and I sigh, inching around the stone, a small frown on my lips.

"That's right," I agree, my voice quiet as I take his hand and he pulls me into his side.

I don't dare look at the faces staring up at me. I already know what their expressions will be.

A long, low whistle comes from Wilbur. "Fuck. Now there's a twist I didn't see coming. I've got to give it to you, Ares. You're craftier than I gave you credit for."

"Ares?" Fundy whispers and I deliberately turn away, hugging my arms.

"Ares made me an offer I couldn't refuse. She surprised even me." Dream admits.

"Ares, come on, don't do this!" Quackity steps forward, his dark eyes pleading. "Schlatt is a shitty president and an even shittier person. He's hurt you, for fucks sake! We finally have a chance to take him out and yet you're still defending him?! I know you care for him, I did, too. But this isn't about us anymore, it's about the country and all the people he's hurt and will continue to hurt in the future. Can't you understand that? Nothing's binding you to that bastard except your bullshit loyalty! Which quite frankly he doesn't even deserve! So come on, just join us, will ya? It's not too late. Even Fundy is here. You don't even know Dream! You can't put your trust in him!"

Quackity's heartfelt speech is killed as Dream splutters out a laugh, pressing a hand to keep his mask in place. "Now that was a good speech. Very moving. But clearly you know nothing about her if that's what you think is going on."

"Dream, just stop," I mutter, growing tired and increasingly uncomfortable. "It's time we left. There are things we need to get ready."

"Ah, I suppose you're right."

I turn, pulling from Dream's side and begin to ascend the stone stairs when Wilbur suddenly clicks his fingers, causing me to falter.

"I got it! You two are sleeping together, aren't you?"

I freeze, my shoulders hunching at Wilbur's proclamation.

"What the actual fuck, man? Are you serious?!" Quackity exclaims. Fundy responds with a similar statement, claiming Wilbur's words to be ridiculous. I remain still, unable to turn and face them, knowing that my expression will give me away. While Wilbur's guess isn't exactly correct, he isn't wrong, either, because I am dating Dream, in the loosest term possible. I can feel their stares burning a hole through my back and all I want to do is leave.

"Goodbye, Fundy, Quackity," I say, my voice strained with emotion.

"Oh my god! You are together!" Wilbur practically cackles, his voice full of glee. "Oh, man, this is too good! As if this day couldn't get any better."

When I say no more to deny Wilbur's statement I'm bombarded with questions from Fundy, Quackity, and even Tommy, except Tommy's questions are mostly just noises of disgust.

"Well, looks like the cat's out of the bag," Dream muses, hopping up a few steps ahead of me and turning to once again offer his hand.

"With no help from you," I grumble, yet despite my mood I accept his hand and we leave the caves of Pogtopia, ignoring the echoing voices that follow us out into the sun.