(no subject)

[stilljustandrew]

[In extremely shaky handwriting:]

I can't breathe. I can't --

Did she see? Did she see what I saw, in Dream's face?

Oh god, I've screwed up bad this time. Worse. Worse than worse. I scared Bruce, and god, I didn't mean to ... and now Snow probably hates me ...

And Dream. He knows. Of course he knows, he's Dream. Would he tell? Is he going to --

It wasn't my fault this time! I wasn't going to tell him anything, I wasn't, I just wanted to meet him ... because he's so young, and he's been hurt, and he's going to be a hero ...

How did I screw it up so badly?

And Meg came to save me, and she almost -- did he do something to her? Is she going to be okay?

[The handwriting is a little less shaky now, as if a pause has gone by in the interim, or as if the writer is starting to calm down.]

She's sleeping now. Doesn't look like she's having bad dreams. She looks ... peaceful.

Sleep doesn't look anything like death. I don't know why books say it does.

I should be here when she wakes up. To explain, and make sure she remembers what happened. I took the spare blanket and made a nest over here on the floor, but I don't think I'm going to sleep. I don't really w I really don't want to.

If I sleep, I already know what I'll dream.