A/N:
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Ravenna waits, her heart thudding in her chest as the seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity. Finally, the door creaks open, revealing Johanna Constantine, who stands there staring in disbelief. Her ex-girlfriend, her confidante from another life, now a stranger, is back.

"Jo... I know it’s been a while," Ravenna begins, her voice trembling. She forces a nervous smile, running a hand through her hair—her old, familiar habit. "But I need your help."

Johanna's expression remains unreadable, and Ravenna braces herself for the rejection she deserves. Maybe Johanna will slam the door in her face, furious at her for disappearing without a word. Or, perhaps, she'll show a sliver of the kindness Ravenna remembers, the compassion that once made her fall in love. To her surprise, Johanna steps back, opening the door wider.

"Come on in," Johanna says, her voice carrying a softness Ravenna hasn’t heard in years.

An hour later, they sit across from each other at a small coffee table, their drinks between them—just like old times. Except the tension between them is thicker now, laced with the ghosts of what they once were.

"He blew sand in their faces!" Ravenna exclaims, throwing her hands up. "Just like that, and they were out cold. Am I possessed? Did I piss off a demon?"

Johanna, who had been listening intently, raises an eyebrow. "Sand? Did he have a pouch? And a raven?"

Ravenna stares at her. "How do you know that?"

"He's not a demon, Ravenna. He's the Sandman. I met him recently."

"The Sandman?" Ravenna’s eyes widen. She takes a quick sip of her drink to steady herself. "What does he want with me? I don’t have anything of his."

"Maybe you do." Johanna’s gaze falls to Ravenna's wrist, where a mark has always lingered—a birthmark, or so Ravenna thought. "That mark. I've been researching it."

Ravenna looks down at her wrist, the rune-like symbol that has been with her since birth. It’s faded over the years, barely noticeable now, but still there, etched into her skin. "It’s just a mark. What does it have to do with him?"

"It’s not just a mark. It’s a rune, Ravenna. A cursed one." Johanna explains. "I saw it on his wrist as well and naturally, I was curious."

Ravenna frowns, her heart sinking. "A curse? You’re saying I’m cursed?"

Johanna nods, retrieving a thick, ancient book from her bedroom. She places it on the table, flipping through its worn pages until she finds what she’s looking for. "This is an extraction of the story of an ancient dark magic performer. Perhaps a thousand years ago. Give or take."

Ravenna grimaces at the book with distaste. "You went through that whole thing willingly?" 

"I did." 

"That must be so fucked up." 

"It was." Johanna chuckles at her before they both fall into an abrupt silence, their eyes meeting with each other for a moment. 

Ravenna is the first to break eye contact, nervously pushing a stray of hair behind her ear to ease the awkward tension between them. "About the book?" 

Johanna nods, turning through the pages to stop at a point. Her fingers run across the words as she begins to explain the story. "The sandman or Dream of Endless fell in love with a mortal girl violating the ancient forbidden rules. She was the crowned princess to the throne by the time. Her name was Ravenna. Their love was ethereal but forbidden. It was true love but they were never meant for each other."  

Ravenna leans in, her breath catching in her throat. "Me? Are you saying... I'm that Ravenna?"

"It’s a possibility," Johanna says, pointing to an illustration of the rune. "She bore the same mark. The story says she was cursed because of their love."

Ravenna's mind races. "Cursed by who?"

"By her own brother, Oliver Duncan. He was power-hungry, jealous, and he turned their kingdom against her. He convinced everyone that her love for Dream would bring doom upon them all."

Ravenna feels a chill crawl down her spine. "What happened to her?"

Johanna’s voice softens. "She was betrayed by her own people. They performed a ritual, binding her to Dream with a curse, and then they killed her."

The scene shifts in Ravenna's mind. as if she's there, in that forest under the light of a blood-red moon. The witches and wizards gather around, their eyes filled with fear and determination, while Dream of the Endless stands helpless outside the binding circle, his face a mask of rage and despair.

"I command you to end this madness!" Morpheus demands, his voice a thunderous growl that reverberates through the trees. He tries to breach the binding circle but each attempt sends him flying back, the circle's power repelling even him. "Dream of the Endless commands you! Stop!"

"Do not fear, my sisters and brothers. The binding circle is intact. The Endless cannot enter, nor can his power do any damage unless the binding circle is broken." Oliver's voice is smug, filled with the arrogance of someone who believes he's won. "Tonight, we will achieve what no one before us has even attempted. This woman is to be punished for her crime of violating the forbidden, She stained the blood of the royal. We will punish her for her sins and purify the royal bloodline."

The chanting grows louder, a dark, ominous latin hymn that fills the night air as Oliver approaches the bonfire in the circle's center.

"I give you a coin made from a stone. I give you a knife from under the hills, and I give you a feather pulled from an angel's wing. I give you a song I stole from the dirt," Oliver chants, his voice rising with the fire as he drops each item into the flames. The disciples' chanting reaches a fever pitch, their voices melding into a single, overwhelming force.

Ravenna lies on the ground, her body broken, her spirit nearly shattered. Every breath is a struggle, every movement agony. The dirt, sweat, and blood that cover her are a testament to the torment she's endured. She has no strength left. No fight remaining. All she wants is for it to end.

"I plead you with poison. I plead you with pain." Oliver dips the blade into a bowl of poison, his movements deliberate, cruel. He begins to carve a rune into the sand with the poisoned blade. "I plead you with the rune of the damned."

Ravenna's scream echoes through the night as her wrist burns with searing pain. She forces herself to look, to see the identical mark being carved into her flesh, a mirror to the one in the sand.

Oliver grabs her by the hair, dragging her to the edge of the circle, ignoring her cries of pain and desperation. He forces her to stand. her body barely able to support itself, and makes her face Dream.

"You don't have to do this," Morpheus pleads, his voice cracking with emotion, The sight of Ravenna in such agony is too much for even the Endless to bear. "Release her. Please."

Ravenna's vision blurs with tears as she meets Dream's eyes. She can't speak, can't form the words, but she tries to convey everything she feels, everything she wishes she could say. It's okay. I love you.

"And I sacrifice the life of the sinner." Oliver's voice is filled with malicious glee as he slices Ravenna's throat, her blood spraying across the circle, staining the forest floor. The first droplets hit Dream's face.

Morpheus closes his eyes, refusing to watch the love of his life die in front of him. The chanting stops, the forest falls silent. Then, he hears it -a soft, gasping breath as the life leaves her body, followed by the dull thud of her falling to the ground.

"It was your fault, Dream Lord," Oliver's taunting voice rings out, cutting through the silence like a knife.

A single tear slips down Morpheus's face, then another, and another. He's paralyzed, unable to move, unwilling to face the reality of a world without her. So he stands still on his ground, waiting for a miracle to happen. 

When Morpheus finally opens his tear filled eyes, he first notices the sun rising. He is now alone in the middle of the same forest. There is no sight of the coven or any living. The power of the binding circle is now dangling in a thin line. Almost as if it doesn't exist at all. 

He lowers his eyes to see her corpse still laying on the ground, surrounding the pool of her own blood. Her green eyes he used to adore are lifeless and staring at the sky. He kneels beside her, cradling her lifeless body, his heart breaking as he whispers, "I could not save you."

"I'm sorry." The words are a broken mantra, his voice filled with guilt and sorrow as he rocks back and forth, clutching her to him. the screams into the void, the pain too much to contain, until his tears run dry and all that remains is the hollow emptiness inside him. The scene dissolves into darkness, leaving only the echo of his scream reverberating through the void.

Back in Johanna’s living room, Ravenna shudders, feeling the weight of that long-ago tragedy pressing down on her. Her hand trembles as she reaches for her drink, taking a deep swallow to steady herself. The story is too real, too close, and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s connected to it in ways she doesn’t yet understand.

"Dream couldn’t save her, and in his rage, he wiped out the entire coven that had hurt her. One by one. Except the writer." Johanna states, pushing the book towards Ravenna, so she can have a clear look of the drawing of the rune of damned on the page. 

Ravenna gulps, tracing the rune on the page with her shaky fingers. "Why?" 

"He knew he was being hunted by the Dream Lord, so he chose the easy way, to take his own life. He poisoned himself. The author of the original book was none other than Oliver Duncan himself." Johanna replies, taking Ravenna's shaking hand into hers and giving a light squeeze. "Dream is just searching for his soulmate." 

Ravenna shakes her head in denial, taking her hand from her ex-girlfriend's grasp. She dryly chuckles. "You believe the god of sand to be my soulmate? Are you making a laugh?" 

"That make sense. You were never mine from the beginning. You belong to him." Johanna sighs sadly. 

"I do not belong to anyone!" Ravenna's chair screeches as she stands on her feet. Thousands of thoughts are swirling in her mind. Why does it have to be her out of all humans out there? She isn't sure how to feel about this whole situation. Her brain is not fast enough to grab all the information she gathered and processed. "Is-is he going to kill me too?" 

"I have no intention of harming you, my Ravenna," a deep, resonant voice says from behind her.

Ravenna jumps, spinning around to see those same steel blue eyes from the car park. Her heart skips a beat as she instinctively moves closer to Johanna, trying to shield herself from the one she now knows as Dream of the Endless. "How long have you been here?" she demands, her voice shaky.

"Long enough," Dream replies, his voice steady, almost soothing.

Ravenna shoots a glance at Johanna, her mind reeling. "You let him in? After everything you just told me?"

Johanna sighs. "He’s not the enemy, Rav. "He asked for a favour." 

Ravenna’s fear turns to anger, her voice rising. "I can't believe you! You just said how he murdered a coven of witches-?!" 

"They were executed by fair reasons." Morpheus adds up. 

Completely ignoring him, she continues to throw her anger at Johanna. "- and you took the demon in for what? What did he offer you in exchange?"

"An Endless for certain. Not a demon." Morpheus corrects her this time. 

Ravenna’s mind races, her body trembling with a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, anger, and something else she can’t quite place. "Oh my, I am officially off my rocker now," she mutters, her hands shaking as she runs them through her hair. "I don’t even know what’s real anymore."

Johanna steps forward, her voice gentle. "Rav, listen to me. You need to calm down. We can figure this out together."

But Ravenna is spiraling, her breath quickening as panic grips her. "No, this isn’t real. It’s just a nightmare. I’m going to wake up, and none of this will be happening."

"Ravenna," Dream’s voice is soft now, filled with an emotion that cuts through her panic. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting. "Please, let me help you."

Before she can protest, he reaches out, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. The contact sends a wave of calm through her, and she feels herself being drawn into his embrace. His arms wrap around her, strong yet tender, and she buries her face in his chest, the scent of him familiar and soothing.

She doesn’t fight it anymore. She lets herself be held, lets herself cry. His hand strokes her hair, and she feels his lips press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Shhh, it’s alright," he whispers, his voice like a lullaby of a nightingale.

The world around her blurs as exhaustion overtakes her. She tries to stay awake, to hold on to some semblance of control, but it’s a losing battle. The last thing she hears before sleep claims her is his voice, a promise carried on the edge of her consciousness.

"Go to sleep, my love."

And as she slips into unconsciousness, cradled in the arms of the Lord of Dreams, the chaos in her mind fades into the comfort of his presence. The nightmare is over, for now, but the reality she’ll face when she wakes is something else entirely.