Archive of Our Own

Hob heard about Roderick Burgess capturing the Devil about a year after it happened. It wasn’t unknown news in the sort of community that gossiped about the supernatural, and when one was immortal, you liked to have your fingers on that sort of gossip.

It had been Tommy who had pulled Hob into the conversation, with a purred “Robbie” and an arm around his shoulder - the same supernatural circles tended to be homosexual - and had pulled Hob into a discussion about whether the Devil in the basement was real.

Tommy argued it was a hoax. Tommy usually believed most things were hoaxes, and was mainly in these circles for the aforementioned deviance. Hob wasn’t sure.

“Right, Robbie?” Tommy said, pressed tight against Hob and smoking a cigarette. “Why would the Devil wear a mask? The Devil doesn’t need a mask. And someone snuck down there to get a gander - they say he looks human. Keen, but human.”

“You’re a gas, Tommy.” Earl took a drag of his own cigarette. “But I doubt it’s some devil as much as I believe Burgess is a louse. Might be some run of the mill demon, or worse, some poor sod. You agree with your batty boyfriend, Robbie?”

“Burgess is a nut.” Hob offered him. “But he’s got something in his basement. He ain’t a liar. Might be a demon, might be a person.” Tommy frowned. “Sorry, doll, but I thought you knew there was something down there. It just isn’t the Devil. Ain’t I on your side?”

“The loaded louse throws parties. We could head on down, see what he’s got down there. Bet he’s got guards, but that’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“We shouldn’t break laws, Gregory.” Hob shot back, and Gregory shrugged. “We ain’t creeps. But the party isn’t a bad idea, see what he’s got.”

“It’s not breaking a law if we’re already in the house.”

“Tommy’s even for it, Robbie! Earl, Mikey, you want to doll up and see Burgess’ home? You say yes, Robbie can’t grouse.”

“I ain’t grousing, lay off me. I’ll come to the goopy party, but I ain’t helping you break into the basement. You’ll get done in by some guard. At least let me do the actual work while you drink.”

“Oh, and no guard’s going to do you in, I suppose?”

“I used to do this for a living, Earl, I know the tricks. I’ll see the damn Devil, but I ain’t letting you screw me up. It’s that or I don’t come, and you know I’m the light of any party. Tommy won’t go without me, anyhow. And Tommy brings the fun stuff.”

“Robbie’s right.” Tommy leaned into Hob, who threw an easy arm around him. “We gotta let him do his thing. And then we don’t have to worry about our own skin, only Robbie’s.”

“Hey, my skin not valuable to you, Tommy?”

“If they don’t touch your pretty face or anything underneath that suit, I’ll live.” Tommy’s hand ran up and down Hob’s tie, and Hob caught it.

“Easy there, pretty boy, we’re in public.”

“We’re all friends here, Robbie.” Earl leaned back, crossing his legs. “We ain’t got to go to a party tonight.”

Hob entered the Burgess home without any of his friends. Last time he had cared to stay in a group with his buddies, they had gotten clocked as queers, and Tommy had thrown up when Hob showed them exactly how to drive a knife into a man’s stomach.

Instead he hung on the outskirts of the party, drink in hand, chatting with whoever wanted to chat. A “hey, I’m Robbie” and “lovely dress, you must tell me where you got it, my wife would be thrilled” cemented Hob as just another partygoer, not a nut about to break into the man of the house’s basement.

And then he had stumbled into the kid. He was about ten, at most. “Hey, kiddo. You work here?” Hob asked. He had always liked kids. Careful not to get attached, though. Not after Robyn.

“My father is the Magus.” the kid said, looking more sad than as if it was a point of pride.

“Yeah? Throwing this whole party, huh? Nice party, I’ll give him that. I’m Robbie, by the way.”

He offered his hand to the kid, who considered it. “Alex.” the kid - Alex - finally said, taking Hob’s hand and shaking it.

“So, I heard some nasty rumor about this house, that your dad, the Magus, has some Devil locked up in the basement. That true? Can’t imagine wanting people to know about it.”

“The Magus is proud of him.” Alex said, holding his head high. “I could show you, if you wished.”

Well that was too easy. “Are you allowed to show me?” Alex shook his head, and well. Hob loved breaking rules. “Lead the way, kid.”

Alex quietly moved through the party guests and Hob followed him. They didn’t move to an area away like Hob thought they would, instead to a door right in the middle of the party. Smart, didn’t draw attention to it. As Alex pushed the door open, Hob scanned the crowd. Burgess was flirting with a woman several years younger than him. Ew.

Oh, well, Tommy was a mere 23 to Hob’s five hundred years. Could he judge? Burgess’ hand slid up the woman’s thigh. Hob was judging.

Alex coughed, and Hob followed him through the door. It swung closed with a click right behind him, and Hob followed Alex down.

“I’m not supposed to be down here.” Alex explained, carefully putting his feet against every stair. “The guards are supposed to tell the Magus if I am, but they went up to the party ages ago. So I like to see him. He looks so sad, but the Magus says he’ll kill us if he gets out.”

“It’s not right to imprison another human.” Hob echoed advice he was given long ago.

“I know.” he followed Alex right up to metal gates, which Alex pushed open. “I don’t think the Magus knows. But I want to let him out. I just can’t.”

Alex’s words faded to a dull blur in Hob’s head as he looked at the figure in the glass prison in front of him. The Stranger’s head rose, and deep galaxy blue eyes met Hob’s. Hob exhaled.

“He doesn’t talk. Or won’t talk. We don’t know if he can understand us.” Alex’s voice faded back in, but Hob was barely paying attention. His eyes were fixed on where The Stranger was rising, a hopeful look on his face.

“Hob.” he croaked out.

“Hey, kid, you just said you’d let him out, right?” Alex nodded. “Great, move away, because I’m about to break glass.”

“Wait!” Hob turned to the kid, who pointed at the golden lettering surrounding The Stranger on the floor. “You need to break the circle first.”

“Thanks, kid.” Hob walked over to the prison, scuffing his foot over the circle before turning and grabbing a guards chair. “Cover yourself.” The Stranger complied, turning away from Hob and guarding his face. Hob grinned, and slammed the heavy chair into the glass.

It shattered, glass spraying around. Some glanced off The Stranger’s back, but the cuts it left barely bled. Slowly, the stranger stood. Hob frowned, pulling off his coat. It was long enough that it would cover him.

“For your modesty.” The Stranger took his coat and pulled it on, buttoning it to hide his lean body. Above, he heard racing footsteps. “Oh, shit, they probably heard us.”

“Who’s down there?” a voice boomed. “Is everything alright?” Hob looked up, and then down as Alex moved closer.

“That your dad?” Hob asked the kid, and he nodded. “We need to get out of here.” he told The Stranger, who nodded.

“I do not have my sand.” he said, voice hoarse. “I cannot teleport us out of here.”

“I know where your sand is.” Alex says. “And I know the other way out of here.” wasting no time, he grabbed onto Hob and The Stranger’s hands, pulling them towards the back end of the basement. They went up small, steep stairs, and emerged into the party. With a smile. Hob blended them into the people, letting Alex lead them to a small room. He pointed at a cabinet.

Once again, Hob broke glass, and The Stranger grabbed his tools. He poured a minute bit of sand onto his hand and reached out for Hob.

“Closer to me.” He said. “The child too.” Alex stepped forwards, and Hob was met with the very strange sensation of being in the center of a sandstorm without a single grain of sand touching him.

The sand fell away in the middle of a field, and Hob felt his coat being pressed back into his arms. The Stranger stood in front of him, now fully clothed in an all black suit. “Thank you.”

“Nah, take it.” Hob said, pushing it back at The Stranger. “It suits you.” The Stranger gave him an odd look, but pulled the long coat on.

“Thank you, Alex.”

“What are you going to do to the Magus?” Alex asked, short and to the point. Hob had to admit, that was a very good question. He did not know his friend well, but he knew he was fickle. He didn’t take well to an offer of friendship, how would he take to being imprisoned.

“I will not kill him. But you should not return. Hob Gadling, I have a question for you.” The Stranger turned to Hob, who nodded.

“Yeah?” he asked, but then he noticed the way The Stranger’s eyes lit on Alex, and then back to him. “Oh, no way, mate! I’m not getting attached to another mortal, especially not some kid I don’t even know.”

“He needs a guardian, Hob. I trust you will take care of him.”

“And you won’t even return for another sixty odd years? I’m not doing that, no bleeding way!”

The Stranger poured sand on his hand again. “I will make them believe that Robbie Gold has died. He has been around for too long now, and Alex will need a responsible father. You have money squared away, and I will send Jessamy with an address to be your new home.”

“I don’t even know your name!” Hob protested, but it was too late. The Stranger was gone. “Fuck! Fuck this, fuck me, and fuck The bloody fucking Stranger!” Hob stomped his foot.

He stopped as Alex shifted uncomfortably.

“Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to- I had a son, okay? I don’t want to lose you like how I lost him, and I wasn’t the best father either.”

Alex’s eyes were wide and knowing, and Hob wondered how much he had seen before he was supposed to. Death, certainly. Abuse, power, a naked entity trapped in a fishbowl. “His name is Dream. Dream of the Endless. He controls dreams.” His voice was soft and meek. Hob wanted to protect him.

“Thanks. You want me to get us some rooms before whoever the fuck Jessamy is brings us an address? It better be a nice fucking house too, considering I’ve gotta forge now records. Do you want a new surname?”

“I don’t want to be Burgess anymore, but I don’t want to be Gold.”

“Didn’t you hear Dream?” Hob asked, feeling euphoric at having a name for his friend’s face. “Robbie Gold is dead. I was born Hob Gadling, and if I’m going to have a son, I might as well go back to being Hob Gadling. How does Alex Gadling sound to you?”

“Robert Gadling.” Hob introduced himself to the teacher. “Call me Hob, it’s what my mum used to call me before she passed, so it’s got some sentimentality.”

“Norman Charmaine, please call me Norman.” Norman shook Hob’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Hob. So you want to enroll your son in our school?”

Hob sat in front of him, crossing his legs and straightening his suit. “Yes. Alex is a very bright boy, but I don’t want to interfere in his studies. We just moved, he needs a school. It’s my first priority, even before finding a job.”

Norman nodded. “You said he was bright?”

“Sharp as a tack, yessir. You wouldn’t believe he was nine unless you saw his birth certificate. He’d make a valuable addition to your school, and we’ve got money. I’ll even pay extra if you can get him a few friends.”

“You don’t have to pay extra, Mr. Gadling. Alex will be able to make friends here. As long as you pay the required amount…” Norman’s eye drifted over Hob’s ratty coat, and Hob scoffed.

“I’m no welcher, I just keep my old things. You stretch money further if you do, and I want to be able to provide for Alex the best I can. Now that his mother’s dead, he’s only got me, I’m sure you understand Mr. Charmaine. Norman.”

“I do. I’ll have Mary bring him in. Mary, darling!” Hob heard the door creak behind him, and the soft, tentative footsteps he had learned were Alex’s. “Hello, Alex. Thank you, Mary.”

“Hello, Dad. Mr. Charmaine.” Alex took the seat next to Hob, feet swinging gently. “Have you decided yet?”

“He wants to meet you first, Alex. Come now, don’t be shy.” Alex glared at Hob, who glared playfully back.

“I’m Alex Gadling. I’m nine. I like to read and I like nature.”

“You just moved up into the big house on the hill, didn’t you?” Norman asked gently. He worked well with kids. Hob was glad. “I heard that it was owned by a nice woman.”

Hob knew this one. Or rather, he knew the backstory that the talking crow had given him for the house. And so did Alex. “It belonged to the sister of one of Dad’s friends. She passed away, and Dad’s friend was too sad to keep it. They traded houses because Dad was sad about Mum’s death.” Alex explained, looking sad enough to keep his story going. “It’s cold.”

“We’re working on the cold. Let’s not talk about his Mum, okay?” Norman nodded, and Hob continued. “I don’t have much time, I’ve got a job interview too, should we come back or have you made a decision?”

“I’ve made my decision. Alex Galding is officially a student here, starting in a fortnight. Good luck finding a job, Mr. Gadling. Hob.”

“Thank you, Norman. You won’t regret it.” Hob got up, resting his hand on Alex’s back. “Come on, we’ll head home now.”

Alex jumped up, following Hob out of the school. Their carriage waited outside. Hob didn’t trust those automobiles (yet), so instead he drove their carriage. He hadn’t hired help, yet, since the house seemed pretty clean for now, and he needed a bit of wealth before he could go around hiring people.

The horse took them up to the house, which was fairly obvious to everyone. Norman had pointed it out, after all. “Good job, kid.” Hob said as the carriage rattled over dirt pathways. “I know it isn’t easy to pretend I’m your dad all the time.”

“It’s not that hard.” Alex swung his legs, watching the trees go by and the bird swirl overhead. “You’re raising me.”

“Yeah, you’re basically my kid, kid.” Alex laughed. “And I’m a better dad than that shithead Magus. Sorry. And you’ve still got a posh house, just with me, ‘stead of him.”

“It’s better than with the Magus, Hob.” Alex agreed. “Thank you. And thank you for the new school.”

“I’m glad you want to go to school, never met a kid that did before. Did the Magus not let you?”

“I was too valuable around the home. I could do chores, and since he sent Randall to school, he had no need to send me.” Hob couldn’t look over at Alex to gauge his feelings, not with a horse as temperamental as Caramel. “Wasn’t a posh house, really. A bit more like a prison.”

Hob chuckled. “Very Hamlet of you, Alex. But I’m glad you’re out of there. Wouldn’t have let Dream leave you there, even if he seemed the sort to do that.”

“You didn’t want me, at first.”

“Well, you’re here now.” Hob said, unaware that it was a stupid thing to say. “And I ain’t letting anyone hurt you, got it? Just tell them your dad knows how to kill someone with whatever’s around.”

“They won’t believe me.”

“Well, I’m not lying. I’ve had hundreds years to figure this shit out, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted with whatever the fuck I had with me. And that applies to little brats and their dads too.”

“Am I a little brat?”

“Nah, but I’d use it all on your dad if I didn’t think that he’s probably already suffering under whatever Dream did. I should check the papers on it, one of these days. But you’re no brat, Alex. You could be more of one, but not only are you the smartest damn nine year old I know, you’re plenty humble. Could afford to even be less humble, you know?”

“Oh.”

“No complaints from me, though, kid. Be yourself and I’ll just make sure you’re provided for as you do so. It’s what I did for Robyn, it’s what I’ll do for you.”

“Thank you, Hob.”

“Whenever, kid. Come on, we’re nearly there.” Hob snapped the reins and led Caramel up into their home. Alex jumped out the second the carriage slowed, but Hob took the time to put it and Caramel where they belonged before stepping foot inside.

Hob thought he was justified in finding the new home creepy. It was! All old stone, it reminded him of things that humanity had left far behind even when he was alive. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was out of the way of anyone who knew Robbie Gold.

Alex had gone off somewhere - probably to the room that Hob needed to furnish more, so Hob found himself wandering about aimlessly. He didn’t need rest, not yet, and he needed to think about Alex’s schooling. Alex would do well in school, but he was genuinely concerned about the boy making friends. Alex was antisocial enough to him.

Hob stepped into the dining room and looked up to see Dream sitting at the end of the obnoxiously long table. Alex sat next to him, reading a book. “Hob.” Dream said.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you for another sixty years.” Hob made his way down the dining room. “Learned your name, Dream. You doing alright, by the way? Can’t have been nice, locked up in some glorified fishbowl.”

“I am surviving, Hob, and I have little to do. I thought I would come and check in on you and Alex. He says he is well.”

“Surviving isn’t living. Alex, could you head upstairs? I’d like to talk to him.” Alex nods, packing up his book and leaving the room. Hob sat on the table, in front of Dream. “I really didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I wouldn’t simply abandon my friend with a child.”

“Well, you did do that, Dream.” Hob snarked before the full sentence sept into his brain. “Friend, huh?”

“I should not have stormed out. I value you, Hob, and I consider you a friend. Being imprisoned by Burgess made me fear that I may miss our meeting. The idea pained me.”

“Well, my friend. Thank you. Alex is doing fine, and this house is incredible. But I’m worried about you.”

Unbidden by him - and no doubt inspired by the time spent with Tommy - Hob’s hand reached up and cradled Dream’s face. Dream froze, and Hob made to draw his hand away. Before he could, though, Dream leaned into the touch.

Hob’s hand didn’t move again. “You need rest. Sleep here tonight, without worry. Alex and I will be happy to have you. Don’t you want to show him that you’re doing fine.”

“I must tend to my realm.”

“You can stay for a night.”

“Won’t Alex ask about his father?”

“He hates that heel. Stay, Dream.” he tucked a stray piece of messy black hair away from the man’s face. “Please. For me. For your friend.”

“My librarian will complain.”

“I’ll buy flowers for her. An apology.” Hob’s eyes met Dream’s. Hob could see galaxies swirling within cold blue.

“Jessamy will worry.”

“Jessamy loves me.” Hob quipped.

“Hob-”

“Dream.” Hob guided him slowly closer. “Accept this.” Dream’s lips parted, but he didn’t protest.

“Very well. Where shall I sleep?” Hob grinned, hopping off the table and taking Dream’s arm in his.

“This place is chock full of bedrooms, we’ll find you a place.”

Hob was getting used to waking up in the middle of the night. Nightmares plagued him, memories and dreams of his worst times. He could picture dying again and again - and sometimes he wouldn’t come back.

Alex had nightmares too. About Burgess, mainly. When he woke up, he came to Hob. They weren’t close enough that he crawled into Hob’s bed like a child, but Hob would get him water and read to him until he calmed down.

Surprisingly, he always liked the mysteries. They kept Hob up, more often than not, but Alex fell asleep easily.

That night, he woke up to Dream’s dark figure in his doorway.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dream. Way to startle a man. Come on in, and close the door behind you. I don’t want Alex to wake.”

Dream did as Hob said. “He will not. I have given him good dreams.” Hob sat up, scooting over and patting the spot next to him. Dream moved slowly, hesitantly, but Hob encouraged him forwards until he was perched on the side of his bed.

“What about your dreams?” Hob asked. His hand found Dream’s in the dark, squeezing it. “You wouldn’t come visit if you didn’t have nightmares.”

“I do not sleep, Hob. I do not dream either - I am Dream.” Hob nodded, rubbing soft circles into the back of Dream’s hand. “My thoughts, however, without the duty of my realm, bordered on nightmares I have made.”

“Shell-shock.” Hob recited. He had seen it often enough, during the war. From other soldiers, from him. From those who pointed when he was the only one who came out alive. It had spurned out a change, Bobby Gadler left to die in the trenches.

“That’s one term for it, yes. I could not remain alone, but neither could I reject your hospitality. I trust you will not mind me stealing this moment from you. I could turn your dreams pleasant, make you sleep twice the length I bring you awake.”

“Why didn’t you just visit me in my dreams?”

“It would be rude to intrude in your dreams like that.”

Hob smiles, pulling Dream slightly closer. “Lay down, Dream. I don’t mind you in my head, come and join me in my dreams.” Awkwardly, Dream laid back against Hob’s pillows, still clad fully in a suit. Hob turned in towards him, wrapping his arms around his pillow. He yawned.

“See you in a moment, Dream.” Hob said, and he drifted easily into a dream.

For a second, sitting in the inn, Hob didn’t realize it was a dream. Lady Constantine was on the floor, begging, her men around her. The Stranger - Dream, now - stood, smiling at him. Once more, Hob asked him if he wished to come for another drink.

Last time, Dream had rejected him, told him he’d see him in another hundred years. This time, he looked around the room. “This is what you dream of?”

That was usually where Hob’s dreams split, when Dream agreed. Now, Dream had done nothing of the sort, and Hob’s night rushed back to him. “Told you I’d see you in a moment.”

“Yes, you did. I did not think you would dream of me.”

Hob dreamed of him regularly, but he wasn’t going to tell Dream that. “Must be the events of today turning in my brain. Come, what do you need for comfort?”

“You offered me another drink, Hob Gadling. I’ll accept the offer, but we need not find another inn. You are staying here, are you not?”

“In a room, upstairs. Do you want to come up?” Dream smiled, and Hob offered his arm. Like escorting a lady, he thought, but when Dream took it, he felt more escorted himself.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Dream asked. Hob was confused, but only for a second.

“We’re doing that, then?” Dream inclined his head. “Learned a bit in my - what was it then? - five hundred years. Been a criminal and a soldier both. It’s easier to get yourself out of a scrape than to have to explain why you can’t die.”

“Wise words, although most who follow them would talk their way out.”

“Never been great at the talking thing. Always been good in a fight.” Hob unlocked the door, pushing it open. The key faded away the minute he didn’t need it, and Hob took in the room.

It wasn’t the room from the inn, that much was clear. It was from only a few years back, from Robbie Gold’s time. He knew this room quite intimately - he and Tommy had christened it well back in the day. For a second, his thoughts drifted.

Dream cleared his throat, and Hob snapped back to attention.

“Interesting choice of room.”

“Could you see my thoughts?”

“This is a dream, Hob. But for now, you do not know how I move in dreams, do you?”

“I don’t even know your name, Stranger.” Hob moved closer. “If we share a nightcap, I think I should know.” he tugged on his ear, eyes sliding over The Stranger’s outfit. “We’ve known each other for five hundred years.”

“Morpheus. Or Dream. That’s my name.”

“Dream. Nice name.” Hob picked up two glasses and a bottle. “Are you going to drink?”

“In dreams, yes.” Dream took the glass from Hob, sipping at it. “Thank you, nonetheless, for coming to my rescue, as unneeded as it was.”

“I’m not letting you be captured.”

“Hmm. Or rather, you’re not letting me stay captured.” Dream took a small, deliberate step towards Hob. Hob matched it at pace. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Dream.” Hob’s hands found the lapels of Dream’s clothes, smoothing them. “You only have to ask. Not even that, if I get wind of it.”

Dream leaned slightly in, and Hob tilted his head up slightly. Dream’s mouth opened, and he spoke. “This dream is over.”

Hob woke up with a start. Dream sat up over him. “Why?” he asked, sitting up. “It was going well, wasn’t it.”

Dream leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft and short. Fleeting, really just a press of lips. And then Dream drew back. “Holy shit.”

“Did you not - I am sorry, Hob, truly. Dreams are not always reality, I should know this better than any.” Dream drew back, but Hob’s hand shot out and pulled him back.

“Don’t you dare, duck. I’m not letting you go after that.” Hob brought his hand up to Dream’s cheek, pushing it back into his hair. “Can’t leave after such a small kiss. C’mere?”

Dream moved back in, shifting his whole body to move close to Hob. Gently, Hob used the hand in his hair to bring him in for another kiss.

Dream’s lips were cool, more cool than any human that Hob has ever kissed. They were soft two, if not a bit chapped. The kiss started soft, but Hob didn’t let it stay that way for long. He’d been thinking about it since Dream ditched him for that twink playwright. He tugged Dream closer, sliding his other hand up the man’s back.

Dream responded with appropriate enthusiasm, pressing back against Hob until the other man pulled back. Only slightly, he rested his forehead on Dream’s. “Considering that I’m in my pyjamas, you’re wearing far too many clothes.” his hand moved from Dream’s back to slide under his lapel. “The jacket’s a bit much.”

“Intolerable flirt.” Dream teased as Hob pushed his jacket off, kissing along his jaw as Hob’s noble fingers got to work on his tie.

“You tolerate me just fine, darling, don’t lie.” one of Dream’s hands tangled into Hob’s hair, the other found Hob’s waist as Dream made a soft moaning sound. “See, there’s a bit of tolerance.”

“More, I think.” Dream replied, pulling Hob in closer. “Certainly more.”

Three months into going to school, Alex was intimately aware that his living situation was weird. Child of a single dad, having to pretend that Hob was his biological father and that his biological mother was some dead lady, Hob’s boyfriend was the entity that Alex’s father trapped in the basement, the fact that Alex knew people weren’t okay with men loving men.

But whatever. Alex made a few friends (Charles, Frank, John), and talked to the girl who lived down the road (her name was Anna, and everyone kept saying that Alex had a crush on her). His life was pretty nice, especially compared to his life with the Magus.

Sometimes, Dream picked him up from school. Usually, it was Hob, driving up in the carriage. Mr. Charmaine was used to Hob, his dark brown hair and lopsided smile. Mr. Charmaine was not used to Dream.

The first time Mr. Charmaine saw Dream picking Alex up, he thought Alex was being kidnapped. No matter how cheerfully Alex walked along next to Dream. It had taken some explaining to get out of that one. Alex wasn’t a good liar. Dream was.

“I’m his uncle.” Dream said, voice low and measured. “His mother’s brother. Did Hob not tell you I was coming?” Dream chuckled, and Alex felt like he’d been put into upside down land. “Figures. Never liked him much, he was nothing for my sister. In return, he never liked me much either.”

“Oh.” Mr. Charmaine said, adjusting his glasses. “Apologies. I can see the resemblance now. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Everyone says that.” Dream frowned, and Alex watched Mr. Charmaine gulp. “Stop saying that.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll be taking Alex now, apologies for worrying you.” Dream’s cold hand rested on Alex’s shoulder, turning him away from the teacher. “Have a nice day, Mr. Charmaine.”

Alex climbed onto the carriage with Dream, and Dream snapped the reins. “Do we really look alike?” Alex asked as soon as they were away from the school.

“Mortals will believe many things if they wish to.”

“You sound like a grifter.”

“What do you think dreams are? I am a grifter. Now we must talk to your father about my new status as your uncle.”

“He’s not - Hob’s not my dad. He’s just Hob.” Dream frowned again, and Alex fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He didn’t want to disappoint Dream or Hob. They weren’t the Magus, but disappointment still cut deep.

“He is raising you. He is more of a father than Burgess.”

“Well, the Magus wasn’t really my dad either.” Alex’s legs kick the seat of the carriage rhythmically. “I don’t really have a dad, I guess. Just a Hob, and a… you.”

“Hob would like to be your father.”

“I’ve lived with him for four months, maybe one day.” Alex said, feeling like he was lying through his teeth.

“It’s your choice.” Dream aquised. “Now, since your Mr. Charmaine believes I am your uncle, we must think of a term of address for me. Very few people in this realm are named Dream, even fewer Morpheus.”

“Uncle Murphy!” Alex decided. Dream stared straight ahead for about half a minute.

“Very well.” he finally spoke. “I shall be your Uncle Murphy. Only in front of Mr. Charmaine and your friends and classmates, understand?”

“Yep.” Alex was fully aware he was using it in front of Hob the first chance he got.

“When’d you get impudent, kid?” Hob asked, adjusting Alex’s tie. “And so independent! Ten years old and going out to a dance all by yourself!”

“I’m not your kid, Hob, please.”

“Nah, you’re mostly my kid. We’re picking up that Anna girl, right? Taking her down to the town hall. For the dance.” Hob singsonged, and Alex glared. “Okay, kid, I’ll stop teasing you now.”

“Are you coming to the dance?” Alex asked, hands rubbing nervously at the protection amulet that Dream had given him. The eye underneath his fingers spun.

“You don’t want your dad there. Aren’t you trying to show off how grown up you are to all those other snot nosed boys? Plus, I don’t have a date, and your Uncle Murphy might not like it if I nabbed a woman to bring to the dance.”

“I would not.” Dream agreed, from the corner of the room where he had not been a second ago. “Although I am not opposed to changing into a female form if Alex truly wants you there with him.”

“They know your face well enough, Dream, they might wonder why I’m dancing with Alex’s Uncle Murphy in drag.”

“Please stop calling me Murphy. I’m begging you. And I can change form, not just dress, only coloring would be similar. Only if it would comfort Alex.”

Alex shrugged. “I suppose.”

Dream inclined his head. “Very well.” Alex turned away for a second, straightening the damn tie that wouldn’t stay straight, and when he turned around, Hob had a woman on his arm.

Knowing Dream gave Alex an advantage that others wouldn’t have. He could see the edges of the dream swirling around her, could see Hob’s Dream underneath the dress and softer face.

“Well, my dream, are you ready to accompany our son?” Hob asked, voice light.

“Not your son.” Alex grumbled, but a smile tugged at his face.

The ride to the city hall was nice. Hob and Dream sat up front, with Alex and Anna in the actual carriage. “Your dad’s date looks like your Uncle. A bit. Same coloring.” Anna waved her hand at her own blond braids and tan skin.

“Yeah.” Alex had gotten better at lying since Dream had become his Uncle Murphy. “Looks like my mum. She and Uncle Murphy were basically twins. Dad’s got a type.”

“Boy, does he.” Anna giggled. “Are you excited? This is the first dance at city hall my parents are letting me go to.” her hand found Alex’s, and he squeezed it awkwardly.

“I’m excited too.”

The dance was nice. It was fine. Anna had found her friends and run off to dance with Mary and Lillian, and Charles, Frank, and John had all swarmed Alex and coerced him into keeping watch as they carved into the stone walls of the city hall.

Alex was very bad at keeping watch.

“What’s happening here?” Hob asked before Alex spotted him. He didn’t have time to warn his friends before they were running off, leaving a half carved explicit portrait in the wall. “Alex…”

“I didn’t do it!”

“But you let them do it.” Hob said. “Come on, let’s find Anna and you’ll tell her you have to head home.” Alex pouted, but let Hob steer him into the hall to bid Anna goodbye. As soon as Alex did so, Hob guided him away, into the carriage.

“Did he even dance with the girl?” Alex heard Dream’s voice from outside the carriage. Despite its changes, Alex knew exactly who it belonged to.

“He’s in trouble, duck. I’ll take him and Anna out to ice cream to apologize soon, but his friends were being little vandals. I’m not raising a criminal, or letting Alex get thrown in the pokey the second he’s eighteen. I’m risking him enough by being a… a deviant.”

“You’re right, but I don’t like seeing him sad.”

“You’re just my lover, I’m his dad. ‘Course you don’t like seeing him sad, but I’m in charge of disciplining him. And this is good news. A year ago, Alex wouldn’t have dared to be slightly impudent, let alone break a single rule.”

“You’re right, Hob. As usual.”

“Good you understand that, then. Drive for me, my dream?”

“Of course.” Alex could imagine, from knowing them, the soft kiss that Hob pressed to Dream’s cheek before climbing into the carriage in front of Alex. After a second, the carriage moved.

“I heard that.” Alex said, fingers rubbing little nervous patterns into his suit hems. “Is it good that I’m breaking rules?”

“I don’t want you to be a criminal, kid. I’ve been a criminal before, it’s not pretty and you risk a lot more than me. But yeah. I met you and the Magus had done a fucking number on you. Wasn’t your fault, but the dick had made you so scared of speaking out I was scared I was kidnapping you since you wouldn’t say no to anything. So yeah, the fact you can break a rule without freaking out? That’s pretty fucking good.”

“I was freaking out. I didn’t like doing it.”

Hob grinned. “Good! And listen, you’re in trouble. You’re definitely in trouble, and I’m not letting you see those dingbats for a while. They got on my nerves anyway, I just liked seeing you make friends. But, you’re my kid, Alex. And you’re a good kid. So you’re not in that much trouble, and I’ll buy you a new book. Do you want a new book?”

“Of course I want a new book, Hob.”

“You know, you can call me Dad if you want. I am your dad, kid. Hob’s fine if you want to call me Hob, but if you ever think of calling me Dad, that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Alex said. “Dad.”

Alex looked up as there was a sharp knock on his door. “Come in!” he called, knowing it was either Hob or Dream. He slid a bookmark into his book and closed it as Hob stepped inside.

At fifteen years old, after Hob had walked in on things Alex didn’t like to think about, Hob had learned very quickly to knock, and respected Alex’s privacy when he turned him away. Still, more often than not, Alex let him in.

“Yeah, dad?” he asked, setting the book to the side. Hob stepped in, sitting down at the end of Alex’s bed.

“I got a new job offer. I’ve been teaching at the high school for a while, and the University down in London has offered me a job as a history teacher. Dream knows, and he could follow us anywhere we go anyhow, but it’s on you whether we go or not. I know you have friends here, and Anna.”

“Anna is my friend! And no offense to anyone here, but I’m fine with moving. Let’s hit the road, I can write Anna and I barely like the boys here.”

Hob smiled, soft and loving, like how he often did. “You’re fine with it then, moving up to London? The house will be smaller, and the air’ll smell like shit.”

“I want you to be happy too, dad, and I don’t like it here enough to stay. And I wanna meet new people.”

“Yeah, your friends here are all little hoods who don’t care about you. Although London’s got its fair share of hoods too. And then, when you’re eighteen, depending on if they notice I don’t age at all, you can go to my university.”

“That’s only three years.”

“Egads, what the fuck. Don’t tell me my little boy is growing up.”

“Been doing it since we met.”

“Well, I hate that. We’ll talk more tomorrow about logistics?” Alex nodded and Hob grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Attaboy. I’m going to find Dream and we’ll talk a bit more about this move. Thanks kid.”

“Can’t wait, Dad.”

“Always makes me smile when you call me that.”

“I need to talk to your sister.” Hob greeted as Dream appeared in his room.

“Never words one wants to hear. Which one?” Dream moved fluidly to sit next to Hob on the bed. His coat spread out around him. “Although I can suppose. What would you want with Despair or Delirium?”

“I need to talk to Death.” Hob stressed. “I didn’t think this through, Dream. Having a kid again? He’s going to die like how Robyn did, oh god, he’s five years away from being Robyn’s age. And no matter how long he lives, I’m going to see him die.”

“You’re attached.”

“He’s my son. And I cannot do that again. Do you know what Robyn looked like?” the picture flashed, unbidden, across Hob’s mind. Dream grimaced. So he saw it. Hob felt weirdly vindictive. “Broken. Bloody. I had to bury him and know that one day I’d forget his face. And I have. Not him like that, not his body, but I’ve forgotten my own son’s face.”

“Hob-”

“Not yet. I don’t want Alex to live forever yet. He’s got the amulet. He wears it all the time. But someday, when he’s thirty, please, just let her leave him alone!”

“Hob, this is not a conversation to be having with me. This is a conversation to be had with my sister herself.”

“I don’t know how to reach your sister, Dream. That’s why I’m bringing it up with you.”

“Very well. You must enter my domain to visit with my sister. More than how you are accustomed to, Hob. From your dreams into my palace.”

Hob pouted. “How come I haven’t entered your palace before, duck?”

“I do not often take mortal visitors. But I should have made an exception for you long before, and this is a sad occasion for you to visit. Lay back.” Dream guided him to lie down with a steady hand, pulling out his sand. As the glittering substance fell over Hob’s face, he found himself swept away.

Hob woke up in his dream. He knew it was a dream, it was one he knew well. Dream stood in front of him, the shorter black coat Hob had given him much longer in the Dreaming. “Hob.”

“Dream.”

Dream’s hand extended. “Take my hand, Hob. I will bring you to my palace, and then to my gallery. There we will call my sister.” Hob took Dream’s hand, but instead of Dream pulling him forwards, the world disintegrated before them.

The palace was glimmering and gorgeous. Hob spun in place, looking it over. “Dream, this is beautiful.”

“Yes, this is my throne room.” Dream agreed. “I only brought you here as a formality, a proper introduction to my palace. Now, we must go to my gallery.”

Hob watched in wonder as again, the world melted away. In front of them, stood many large ornate frames. They held, in order, a book, an ankh, a mirror, a heart, a fishhook, and some sort of swirling tie dye. One was empty.

Dream reached out, hands brushing the ankh. “My sister, I stand in my gallery and hold you sigil. Will you visit me?”

Hob blinked, and then a woman stood in front of them. She had dark hair and dark skin, and was wearing one of the flapper dresses that had recently come into fashion. Around her neck sat an ankh necklace. 

“Yes, my brother?” she asked, leaning back against the frame. “I have souls to take, I cannot stay long.”

“You know Hob.”

“I also know that he is not asking for death, dear brother. I gave him a house, I gave him life. There is no reason he has to visit me. You, dear brother, need to talk to me more often. I was worried.”

“About me?”

“About what the magician did to you. I have not taken him yet, he stays with your torture.”

“You could have come.”

“Could I have? They were looking for me, Dream. He was so close to killing his son just to see if he could capture me when I took the boy. I didn’t come for him, twice. Once after a nasty bump, the next after his father went too far.” Death frowned. “Sometimes I see why you think so lowly of humanity.”

“You are coming very close to what we have come to discuss.”

“Alex isn’t the Magus’ son anymore, my lady. He’s mine, and I don’t want to lose him. Not how I lost Robyn. If you could only not come for him the next time…”

“I cannot do that, Hob. Even if he were to ask. Alex’s life is his to live, and I cannot deprive him of that.”

“I cannot lose another son.”

Death’s smile was sad. “But you have to, one day. That’s what life is. You lose people. Family. Come here.” Death cupped Hob’s face in her hands, smiling gently. “Alex will meet people too. Not all immortals are as lucky as you, to have someone they love who also has that gift. You would do that to him? Make him lose a love, a child the same way you did?”

“Please.”

“Maybe if he asks me, one day. I will await his call, but I cannot promise him life. But you will get your due with him, Hob, I promise. I will not take him early.” Death turned to Dream. “Brother.”

“Sister.”

She took his wrists. “Next time, make it a social visit. Take me out to dinner with your family.”

“You are my family.”

“As are they. Visit me, brother, without a request. I miss you.” Death smiled. “Thank you, Hob, and I’m sorry. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon. Well, hopefully I’ll see you through Dream soon.” Death leaned back, almost falling through her frame. “Call me, brother!”

Hob turned to Dream, who had a fond smile on his face. “She is my favorite of my siblings.” Dream said, before turning to Hob. “But that could not have been easy, could it? I am sorry, Hob, no matter if I agree with her.”

“No, she’s right. I can’t deprive Alex of a life because I’m selfish. He doesn’t deserve to lose his Eleanor and Robyn, if he’ll have them.”

“Come back to bed, Hob. let me comfort you.”

“Oh, darling, like I could say no to that.”

Alex came home on his sixteenth birthday to Hob and Dream trying to set up a surprise birthday party for him. “Obnoxious.” he commented at the huge banner that Hob was trying to hang over their dining room. “You never did this when we were in the country.”

“It’s not every day my son turns sixteen!” Hob said. “And also, Dream accidentally invited his family to dinner, so we have to meet all of them. I’m very concerned about impressing a bunch of gods.”

“Not gods.” Dream corrected. “Endless.”

“Dream, I love you, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck what the difference is.”

“Can I still have a party with Rose, Clarence, and Cecil?” Alex asked.

“Of course, although perhaps after however the Endless fiasco is going to go.” Hob stepped down from the chair, banner in place. “And tell Cecil that if he wants to make out with Freddie in our house corners he needs to be more subtle. It’s all fine here, but it wouldn’t be anywhere else, and I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“I will.”

“It will not be a fiasco to have my siblings here, Hob. You can trust the majority of them.”

Hob spun to face Dream. “Dream, babe, ‘the majority’ is not a comforting string of words. ‘All’ would be better. Or even ‘my siblings, the Endless, have decided not to come after all’.”

“I cannot say either of those things.”

“Oh I know.” Hob pointed at the kitchen. “Be a dear, duck, and go get the fancy silverware. I need to at least try to impress them.” Dream trotted obediently towards the kitchen. “Sorry about this, kiddo. I know this is probably the last thing you needed on your sixteenth birthday.”

“Exciting, though. Like something out of a book.”

“You and those books. Makes me happy to see you like them. What’re you reading now?” Hob fussed around the room, making sure all the decorations were good.

“King Lear.”

“Shakespeare, that hack. Wrote all his plays, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t like that guy. Glad you’re no regular Hamlet, because you might have been if you grew up with the pill Burgess.”

“Is he complaining about Shakespeare again?” Dream asked, reemerging with the china and silverware that Hob had asked for. He carefully set it on the long table, grabbing some to take to each place. “He meant nothing, darling. In the long run, the concentration of your one night stands is much thicker than mine.”

“That’s not my grievance!” Hob said, pointing at Dream. “That’s not my grievance.” he repeated to Alex, who laughed. “My grievance is that he just abandoned me, when I was talking about the queen.”

“Don’t pout. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re a dick, Dream.”

“Unfortunately for you, you’re in love with me.” Dream gave Hob a playful smile, and Hob rolled his eyes, leaning over the table to kiss Dream.

“Hmm, more fortunately.”

“Gross.” Alex said. “Could you do that anywhere else? Like your room? This house is enormous, go pet somewhere else.”

“Stop razzing us, Alex.”

“Stop that, then. Keep setting up for my birthday, aren’t there gods coming?” Alex ducked a napkin being thrown at him. “Don’t you dare make me pretty this place up, it’s my birthday. I’m sixteen now.”

“Yeah yeah, kid. Go put your glad rags on, we’re throwing a nice little bash for you.”

Alex laughed, heading for the door. “I’m going, dad. If the gods-”

“Endless!”

“-the gods arrive before I’m down, don’t wait for me.”

“I don’t the Endless would take kindly to being told to wait for a sixteen year old mortal, sorry kid.” Hob grinned after his son as he left the dining room. “He takes after me, doesn’t he?”

“I’m sure psychologists would find your experiment of nature versus nurture very fascinating. I, however, am no psychologist, and am much more concerned about you making this place presentable for my siblings.”

“You said I could trust the majority of them, traitor.” Hob said, fixing the china to his liking. “Don’t tell me they’re all snobs who’ll judge me as some hick because my china isn’t ritzy enough.”

“Not that, Hob. I am just concerned. It had been a long time since I had a family dinner. And we do not tend to meet the mortal affections of each other.”

“Well.” Hob threw his arms around Dream’s shoulders. “Good thing I’m no mortal, then?”

Dream smiled, giving Hob a soft kiss. “I did not mean you. I meant your son. He is not my son, and he would object to being called one, but I care for him. And last time I had a mortal son, it did not end well.”

“Their fault?”

“For once, no. Mine, and perhaps the Prodigal’s. Now, we must wait. Far more anxiety inducing than decorating, no?”

“Ugh, you bastard. Make me sad and then make me wait for your siblings, and I can’t even make any whoopee with you in the meantime.”

“Do not call it that, I am begging of you.”

“I love slang, but you can be a Mrs. Grundy if you’d like, duck.” Hob pecked Dream’s cheek, who smiled fondly.

“Why do I love you?”

“Because I’m so lovable?” Hob batted his eyelashes and a long coo came from behind them.

Hob and Dream spun around (well, Dream turned. Hob spun) to see a person sitting in one of the chairs. They were leaning back, and their feet rested on the table. Blond hair was pushed out of their made up face, and they wore a red suit jacket with no shirt underneath.

“How sweet. Almost makes you gag. Hello, my brother.”

“Desire.”

“You got me! Although I wasn’t hiding. You’d never notice if I was hiding. Is this the lover boy?” Desire pulled their feet off the table, leaning forwards and eying Hob like he was some sort of food.

“Hello.” Hob waved. “Nice to meet you. Are you a man or a woman?”

“A little bit of both. A little bit of neither. Whatever makes your clock tick.” Desire smiled with all their teeth, looking sinister. Hob nodded.

“They’re my sibling, and if Alex will permit, his Uncle-Aunt.”

“Or Aunt-Uncle! I like a bit of variety. Oh, and Despair will be here soon. She let me have the dramatic entrance, because that’s what good siblings do.”

“We are not getting into a debate about if I am a good brother or not on Alex’s birthday. I am not a good brother, you are not a good sibling. Shall we leave it at that?”

Desire frowned. “You’re no fun.”

Another voice chimed in, with an arm tossed over Dream’s shoulder. “When has he ever been fun? That’s not Dream’s job.”

“Hello, Death.” Dream greeted, shrugging his sister off him. “How have you been keeping?”

“Well, thanks.” Death dropped into the seat by the head of the table. Her black flapper dress and hair bounced with her movement. “Been a bit since we’ve had a family dinner, huh? Weird to have it away from Destiny’s realm.”

“I did not plan to have it here, sister.” Dream said. Carefully, he guided himself and Hob to seats by the foot of the table.

“I knew.” Destiny said, unnecessarily, taking his place at the head. “Although I cannot say I like it.” His face stayed obscured by his cloak, and Hob resisted the urge to look under it.

“You could have all declined.” Dream bitched, and Hob patted his arm idly. “I would have understood. I would have encouraged it.”

“We know.” Desire nodded. “You don’t have to be rude about it.” she smiled at the woman that sat next to her. “Hello, my twin.”

“Hello.” Despair answered.

“Could I get some names here, or do you all enjoy not giving your name for six hundred years until a nine year old reveals it.” Hob groused, and Dream frowned at him.

“Dream!” Death scolded.

“I want to be surprised. I’m not. Well, I’m Desire. Phone me up after dinner.”

“Not doing that, thanks. And I knew that. I also know Death.”

“That’s Destiny.” Dream said. “And Despair. We only have to wait for Delirium.”

Softly, a sing-song voice came from behind them. “I’m here. I just don’t want to come to the table.” Hob turned, and so did Dream. “Do I have to?”

Delirium was curled up in one of the armchairs off to the side, where Hob and Dream would share a nightcap and a conversation after Alex had gone to bed. Dyed hair fell in her face, and her knees were brought up to her face. Sharp eyes, one green, the other blue, stared out at the room.

“No,” Dream assured her, “you don’t have to. But we’d like it if you did.” Delirium hummed, and Dream seemed to consider his job done, since he turned back to the table. “And Delirium.”

“Hello.”

“Hello…” one of Delirium’s legs fell to swing off their chair. Endearingly, it reminded Hob of Alex. “Um… I don’t remember why we’re here?”

“It’s my son’s birthday.” Hob explained.

“Oh… okay. Does he want butterflies? I can make butterflies.” her hand darted out towards the lamp, testing the light. Slowly, soft butterflies formed between her fingers.

“You will not touch him, sister.” Dream commanded, rather soft for how he usually spoke, before he turned back to the rest of his siblings. “None of you will touch him.”

“How rude, as if he’d be interesting enough to touch. He’s just some mortal. I’m just here for the fun.”

“I’m unsure if that was rude or not.” Alex said, stepping into the room. “Hello all, it’s the birthday boy. My event is being co opted for a family dinner, but it’s fascinating to meet you all.” He made his way to the empty seat next to Despair, but Dream shook his head and nodded towards the foot of the table. Alex shrugged and took his spot.

“Might as well introduce us, Dream.” Death said. “Wait, Alex, do you want us to be your aunts and uncles, or no?”

“Am I allowed to say no to you?”

“Yes.” Destiny’s voice was deep, and Alex looked like he’d rather not be placed across from him. “In fact, you are one of the few who may get away with it.”

“Well, Dream isn’t my dad, so no. Hob’s my dad, and you aren’t his siblings.”

Death grinned. “I like him, Dream. I’m Death. The grumpy one that isn’t Dream is Destiny, the grinning one is Desire, the frowny one is Despair, and Delirium’s in the corner.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Alex said politely. “How’s everyone doing?”

“I’m… uh. I did a lot of things. I don’t really know.” Delirium curled her hair around her finger. “Both… maybe? All.”

“I’m doing fine.” Desire leaned over, gazing at Alex interestedly. “But I want to know more about you. What do you Desire?”

“Leave him be.” Dream snapped. “His Desires are none of your business.”

“How would you feel,” Desire pouted, “if I said Dreams were none of your business? His are just so… tasty.” They smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know them?”

“I do not go prying into the Dreams of others, Desire, I hope you would do the same.”

Desire leaned back and kicked their legs back up on the table. “You’re so boring.”

“Thank you, my sibling.”

“Ugh.”

“I’m Despairing.” Despair said. Desire patted her shoulder. “I’m always Despairing.”

Death grimaced kindly at her. “I’m doing well, Alex, thank you. Now, I brought you a present, but it’s not quite a physical thing. Did anyone else bring him a present?”

“I have one.” Destiny set out a bag, frilly and pink in comparison to the everything about him. “For you, child.” he passed it down along the table until it reached Alex. Carefully, Alex started to remove the tissue paper and pull it out. “Dream said that you liked to read.”

Alex set the book in front of him on the table, opening it and running his fingers over the words. They shifted under his touch, over books that Alex had been wanting to read. “What is it?” he asked, caught in wonder.

“The words shift to whatever published book you wish to read. I couldn’t give you too much, after all, it would mean Dream’s library would have nothing to offer you.” Alex looked up, beaming.

“Thank you!”

“Well, that’s a good gift.” Desire complained. “Now I have to give you something that pales in comparison.” their own present materialized on the table, and they slid the box over to Alex.

Fingernails swiped through tape and carefully pulled the wrapping paper off. The box opened easily, and Alex peered in. “This is going to sound very rude, but I do not trust whatever this is.”

“Here, Alex.” Dream said, and Alex pushed the box over to him. He peered inside. “Desire, no.” The box made its way back to Desire, who disintegrated it with a wave of their hand.

“Why must you quash every opportunity for fun, brother mine?”

“I want Alex to enjoy his birthday, Desire, not fall prey to your whirling mechanisms. You may entertain yourself later, in some London bar.”

“I don’t think you’d like my present.” Despair pouted.

“Neither do I.” Hob said. “Now, does anyone else have presents for Alex, or can we eat?” a soft hand pressed on his bicep, and he turned to look at Dream.

“I do.” Carefully, Dream brought out a box, pushing it over to Alex. “Here, Alex.”

Alex opened the box, not sure what to expect. Obviously nothing like Desire’s present, but it was such a large box…

“It’s not from me. My present will come later. It is from Lucienne, my librarian, and Jessamy.”

Alex extracted the books. “I’ve never heard of these.” he said, ghosting his fingers over the embossed words.

“Of course you haven’t. They’ve never been published. My library is filled with unwritten and unpublished books. These are some we selected for you.”

Alex thumbed through the volumes. “Thank you, Dream.”

“I hope you enjoy. Now, please, we should eat. Hob, would you like me to get the food, or should you?” Dream gave Hob a look that Hob recognized intimately.

“I’ll get it.” Hob said, getting up. He didn’t want to spend time unguarded with the Endless either.

“Dream, why don’t you help him?” Death said. Dream frowned, beseeching her. “I’ll make sure the siblings don’t irreparably harm Alex. Or harm him at all.”

“Small comfort, my sister.” Dream stood, pushing his chair back in. “Hob, wait for me a second.” Hob waited until Dream fell into line next to him and they opened the kitchen door.

“How does it feel,” Desire asked, “being the only mortal who knows the Endless so well? Your father - Robert Gadling, not Burgess - isn’t even mortal anymore. You’re the only mortal whose life has not been ruined by knowing Dream.”

“My father has always been Hob. The Magus has never been my father, not even when I lived with him. He wouldn’t have appreciated being called so, and neither do I.”

“Well, you certainly throw wrenches in plans. Complaining about my gift, keeping Hob sane, breaking Dream out. You just don’t like me, do you?”

Alex gaped at them. “You were the one who put him in there?”

“Sibling, we are not supposed to do that.” Destiny scolded. Death stared at Desire in horror. Despair laughed, cutting a clean line through her cheek with the ring on her finger. “We do not meddle in each others’ affairs.”

“He needed to learn humility, Destiny! He needed to learn to stop being the pompous ass he is so constantly. A little bit of lesson goes a long way. See how much better he is now? He never would have loved an almost mortal and his son like this before.”

“Death, can the Endless hurt me in ways other than Death?” Alex asked, voice quivering with anger underneath a casual exterior.

“Do not, Alex. I may not take your hand, but Desire will not follow Dream’s request for you to stay unharmed if you do anything to them.”

“Unfortunately, Dad likes it when I break rules.” Alex pushed back from the table, stalking over to Desire, and punching them in the face.

“What the fuck!” Desire said, staring up at them. “You can’t do that!” Alex could tell it didn’t hurt them at all, but he took pleasure in their shocked expression. Desire stood, stony rage taking over their features. “You cannot touch me, mortal. If you hurt me first, I have no obligation to follow my brother’s rules when his spawn has touched me such.”

“It didn’t hurt you.” Alex replied, feeling quite smaller than them. “You are still bound by Dream’s request.”

“One day he’ll leave you, child. And then I will toture you. Infect you with lust until you can’t see straight. Make you Desire everything that will hurt you. I will not kill you, you brat, but I will make you wish Death would take your hand. And for each step, she will not, because she has the good sense to stay out of my affairs.”

“Like you stayed out of our brother’s affairs? If Alex begs for Death, I will give it to him.”

“Will you, sister?”

“Stop!” Destiny stood. “Desire, you will not touch this boy! You meddled in his father’s affairs, he had full right to punish you. Do not continue to harm Dream, nor his own, and we will not have to punish you in ways mortals cannot.”

“Go read your books, brother.” Desire hissed, but they sat back down in their chair, crossing their arms.

“Alex, sit down.” Death warned, keeping their voice gentle. Feeling watched, Alex made his way back to his chair. From behind them all, Delirium hummed.

“Um. Can I sit at the table now? I don’t wanna. Um. I don’t want to watch.”

“Sure.” Death said. “Come on over.”

Delirium moved slowly, sitting next to Alex in the one spot that hadn’t been taken. “It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah. I’m turning sixteen.”

“Sixteen… I met a sixteen year old. They liked me. I didn’t like them though. I um. I don’t remember what I did. But they don’t like me anymore.” Alex nodded. “Happy birthday.”

“Not really. But I get to see my friends tomorrow.”

“I had friends. I want friends. Can we be friends?”

“Sure.”

Delirium smiled. “Thank you.” She swayed slightly, like to music in her own head. She blocked Alex’s view of Desire pretty neatly, which made Alex glad. He didn’t want to see them.

Hob and Dream returned, both holding food. “What happened?” Dream asked the second they got inside the room, setting his tray down on the table. “Hob, can you get the rest, please.”

“Your brat punched me!”

“Alex.” Hob said. “You’re not a fighter. Is your hand okay?” Alex presented Hob with his hand, which was pretty much unharmed.

“It would not have been alright if Desire had expected it.” Dream wore a semi-smug smile that still looked concerned. “What did they do, Alex?”

“Hey, why do you think I deserved it?”

“You did!” Alex snapped. “And they, Dream, they… I can’t. Death, help me.”

“Oh, the boy can’t get his words out. What a surprise! Don’t go all Delight on us now, child.”

“It’s Delirium, and you know it!” Delirium screamed, slamming her hands down on the table. “You think you’re so much better than all of us!”

Desire ignored her. She fell back into her chair, fuming. “Anyway, Dream, darling brother, what your brat couldn’t say was that I had a smidge of a hand in your imprisonment. He and your boytoy just had to come along and ruin all my plans.”

“You did what?” Hob watched as Dream stalked over towards Desire. “Sibling.”

“Yes, Dream?”

Dream cleared the table in a jump. Hob gulped. “You are not allowed to tangle in my affairs. And you are not allowed to touch my family.” Dream’s hand darted out, knotting in Desire’s hair. He tugged his siblings head back. “Hurt me again, hurt Alex again, hurt Hob again, I will not let you rest, Desire.”

“Dad.” Alex whispered to Hob. “The look on your face is very embarrassing.”

“Do you think you are strong enough to go against me, my sibling? Against Destiny?” the named sibling nodded. “Against Death?” Death inclined her head as well.

“No.” Desire choked out. Dream released their hair.

“Leave now, Desire. Take Despair with you.” Desire stood, fuming.

“You are my least favorite sibling.”

“I am aware.”

“And you should have known what Hob was thinking as you pulled that shit.” Desire smirked, and with a blink, they and Despair were gone.

“Everyone out.” Hob said. “Sorry, guys, but everyone out, this family dinner is over, if I talk to another fucking Endless today I’m going to die.”

“No you aren’t.” Death said. “Destiny, Delirium, let’s go. I think Dream needs a moment without his family - this family - here. Let him cope with Hob and Alex.”

Alex turned for a second, and the rest of the Endless were gone.

“Dad?” Alex asked. “Am I in trouble?”

“Absolutely not. Punch whoever you want if they hurt Dream, kid. You are, however, entitled to money and whatever outing you want with your friends. I insist.”

“Thanks, dad. Dream?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” Alex’s voice was kind and calm, and Dream smiled. His eyes, however, were glittering with tears.

“Thank you, Alex. I know you may not consider me your father, but I consider you my family. It was risky, what you did, but I’m thankful.”

Alex grinned, standing up and running at Dream, hugging him tight. The Endless startled, but he wrapped his arms back around Alex and squeezed him tight.

Hob smiled, joining his lover and son in the hug. “I love you both so much, okay? And If anyone touches either of you again, I’m killing.”

“Don’t.” Dream scolded. “Please don’t.”

“Please soundproof the walls of this house.” Alex said when Dream stepped into his room. “It’s bad enough that I have to hear you, I don’t want to hear my dad too.” he noticed the bird on Dream’s shoulder. “Hey, Jessamy.”

“Hello.” Jessamy croaked out. “Lord Morpheus has a present for you.”

“I was going to tell him, Jessamy.” Dream said, moving towards Alex’s window and pushing it open. “But Jessamy is right. I do have a present for you. The books were from Lucienne and Jessamy, as well as an invitation to my library. My own present is this.” Dream stuck his hand out the window, Alex watching in barely contained interest.

When he drew his hand back in, a bird was sitting on it. It cawed.

“This is Renwick.” Dream smoothed down the feathers on Renwick’s back. “He is a raven. He is not sentient, but he is as intelligent as any raven. Treat him well, Alex.” he extended his hand.

“For me?” Alex asked, letting Renwick jump onto his hand.

“He is an individual being, but yes, for you. His nest is nearby, you should provide him with many shiny things for it. He will bring you things and spend his time with you. And if you need me, he may not be sentient, but he can still get a message to me.”

Renwick cawed, and Alex stroked his feathers. “Thank you, father.”

Dream blinked. Alex blinked back at him. Slowly, Renwick tilted his head. “You’re welcome, son.”

“I like that one.” Delirium said, pointing at one of the leaves falling from the tree. She sat next to Alex, legs swinging in tandem. “It’s pretty.”

“It is.” Alex agreed, taking a sip from his soda. “Today’s pretty.”

“I like the sun…” Delirium lifted her hand, letting the sunshine flow over it. It became something physical in her grasp, falling and pooling on the ground. “But I like the rain too. What’s the name of that? When two different things are true?”

“A paradox.”

“I like paradoxes.” Around her words, the air seemed to warp in color, but Alex barely noticed. “What’s your favorite paradox?”
“I don’t have one.”

“We should all have favorites. Um. I had a favorite. I don’t anymore, though.” Alex could register the few stares they got. People weren’t used to the fishnets Delirium had on underneath her dress, and Alex just got stared at.

“A favorite of what?”

Delirium shrugged. “Just a favorite. Doesn’t matter what. Just a favorite.”

“You’re my favorite aunt.” Alex offered, and she smiled, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers.

“I don’t have an aunt.”

“Not everyone does. I didn’t, for a while.” Alex watched a few mourning doves peck at birdseed scattered along the ground. “But now I have you.”

“I don’t know if I like being an aunt. But I like being a friend.”

“We’re friends too.”

Delirium smiled. Her legs swung, and Alex matched them in pace. “Good.”

Death walked around the small grounds of Hob’s house with Alex, who had Renwick perched on his shoulder. She chewed on an apple, one that Alex had grown himself in the garden. She looked incredibly pleased with it. “Happy birthday, Alex.” she said after she swallowed a bite. “Eighteen’s a big number.”

“I’m going to University soon. The same one Dad teaches at, so I’m staying here, but still. I didn’t think I’d really reach eighteen, especially not when I was a kid. I mainly thought the Magus would kill me in a fit of rage.”

“He was a bit of a dick, wasn’t he? I prefer your new father much more. Isn’t trying to capture me, for one.” Death laughed, elbowing Alex playfully. “I promised you a present on your sixteenth birthday. I never got around to giving you it, did I?”

“You didn’t.”

“Alex.” Death stopped, and Alex stopped with her. Gently, she turned him to face her. “You can’t tell your dads about this.”

“What?”

“I can give you what I gave your dad. I can promise to never take your hand, and I can promise you won’t age much past thirty. But I told them I wouldn’t offer you this. I can’t promise you want to be like your father. You’ll find someone, and I don’t want you to see them die.”

“But I’ll have my dads.”

“You’ll have your dads, but you can’t be with them forever. I don’t want to break your heart, Alex, but I don’t want to break Dream or Hob’s either.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“Until you get fatally hurt. Or until you’re thirty. Either one. But I can’t rewind time.”

“I’ll get back to you then, Aunt Death. But thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re my favorite nephew.” Death started strolling again, and Alex caught up with her stride easily. “Getting old, too. I can remember when you were younger. Saw you a few times, when picking up others. And I remember when Hob first picked you up. You were so young, and so scared. Barely knew what ‘safe’ was. I like knowing you now, Alex. I like who you are.”

“Thanks.” Alex smiled, and Death tossed her arm over his shoulder. “It’s hard to imagine what I would have turned out like if I had stayed with the Magus. If Dad had never showed up and I had to keep living with him.”

“Nothing good, I can promise you that. There would be nothing good.” They continued their stroll, chatting as they walked along.

Alex sat on a bench, book in lap, trying to read. The afternoon sun was harsh, and made the words hard to read, and his head ached with the scent of the professor’s pipe smoke.

“What’re you reading?” a voice asked, sitting down next to him. Alex startled, looking up at the boy next to him. Carefully, he turned the book so he could see the cover. “Good choice. Always liked that one.”

Alex smiled. “I’m Alex.”

“Paul.” Paul extended his hand, and Alex shook it. “Nice to meet you. Are you a student here?”

Alex responded with a nod, “Yeah, and my Dad teaches here. I’m waiting for him, but he got held up answering questions. So I’m trying to read. The sun’s making it a bit hard, though. Are you?”

“These universities wouldn’t let me in.” Paul gestured to his skin color, looking sad but teasing at the same time. “My Mum works here, I’m waiting for her. So we’re similar.”

Alex smiled. “Do you want to read together?” he offered, turning his book so that Paul could see the words.

“Sure.”

They read for a while in silence before Alex saw Hob in the distance. “My dad’s here.” he explained, tucking his book away. “Will I see you again? Here, maybe even spend some time together somewhere else?”

Paul chuckled. “Yes, we’ll see each other. And I see my mum, anyway, so I’ll see you around?” he waved goodbye to Alex, just to laugh when they headed in the same direction. “That’s always awkward.”

“I see you made a new friend.” Hob called out as soon as Alex was within earshot, and Alex realized the woman standing next to him must have been Paul’s mum.

“Hey, Dad.” Alex called back. “This is Paul.”

Hob turned to the woman next to him as Alex and Paul came to a stop in front of them. “Yours?”

“Mine.” she agreed. “Hello, Paul.”

“Hey, Mum. Coincidence you met Alex’s dad while we were talking.”

“Actually, I’ve been talking to Cora for a while. The University pays her absolute shit - unsurprising, so I’m hiring. Smaller place to clean, better pay, rub it in the University’s face, and if I get fired I get fired.”

“They can’t fire you for that.” Cora assured him. “And I’ve taken the offer. Good riddance to this University my son can’t even go to.”

“So I’ll get to see Paul more often?” Alex bounced on his feet, grinning. Paul grinned back at him.

Hob grinned at Cora, who grinned back at him. “I’m glad you’ve got a new friend, kid. And your Uncle Murphy doesn’t expect us back for a while, we could chat? I’d love to meet Paul.”

“Sure!” Paul said. “There’s a bench over there, the one Alex and I were sitting at?” Cora nodded, and the four made their way over there. “When’d you start teaching, Mr. Gadling?”

“A few years back. How old were you, Alex?”

“Fifteen.” Alex chuckled, and Hob laughed.

“You get a little caught up in life after a while, and now I’m using Alex’s age to measure things. Three years, then. We used to live out in the country, but I prefer the big city. I think Alex does too, although his Uncle hates it.”

Alex snorted. “That’s Uncle Murphy for you. And I definitely like London more than the country. It’s easier to blend in. In the country, everyone knew who I was. Now, I walk in the park with Aunt Dee and we barely get any glances.”

“I prefer London as well.” Cora agreed. “I used to work for this man, a magic user, he called himself. He would claim that he had the Devil in his basement, although I wasn’t allowed down there.”

Hob and Alex caught each other’s eyes. “Burgess?” Hob asked. “I heard of him. People thought he was a fraud.”

“I thought so too. He went mad, about a year after he claimed he captured the Devil. His house burnt down after a party, although everyone was outside except for two people. One of them was his son, the other was a guest. By the name of Silver?”

“Gold.” Paul corrected. “Robert Gold, I think.”

“That was it. We thought he’d cry when he learned about his son, but he laughed. Destroyed every bit of sympathy when he went mad, that did. Refused to sleep, talked about nightmares. Started hallucinating something awful, and when he did fall asleep, he didn’t wake back up. He’s still alive, last I heard. Got out of there quick after that.”

“I’m glad I’m not forced to grow up near someone who thinks that having a man trapped in his basement is impressive.”

“That's horrible.” Alex said, trying to choke back as much emotion from his voice as he could. “Imprisoning anyone, human or not.”

“Denying others the choice to live their lives.” Hob sounded like he was going to vomit, repeating the words of the rant Alex had heard him go through so many times. “It’s horrid.”

“Our society’s doing that too.” Alex looked over at Paul and nodded.

“You’re right, but don’t let him get started on that. Dad can talk for hours if he wants to. And I’m sure you don’t need someone that looks like detailing how shitty the slave trade was.”

“Thank you, kid. He’s right, I’m no authority. Although I know a fair bit on the Burgess prick, used to be a hobby of mine to research that sort of occult junk. No clue if he was a fraud, but from what I’ve heard, he deserved whatever he got.”

“Glad his son was dead? He deserved more.” Cora’s voice was decisive, and Alex pushed back a grin. To have people care about him, even if they didn’t know him, was a nice feeling. He felt loved. He had felt loved since Hob had taken him in.

“Well, Alex and I should head back to our house before his Uncle throws a fit, but we’ll see you soon. Pleasure to see you, Cora. Nice to meet you, Paul.” Hob held out his hand, and Paul shook it.

“Bye, Paul. See you soon?” Alex offered Paul his own hand, and Paul grasped it firmly.

“See you soon, Alex.”

Paul found Alex sitting in a gazebo, staring at the pouring rain around him. A book sat in the nineteen year old’s lap, and he stared at the rain. The raven that always hung around him sat on the table. “Hey, Alex.” Paul said, jogging over.

“Hey, Paul.” Alex looked up as Paul sat next to him, setting his book to the side. “You’re soaking wet.”

“The rain.” Paul explained, as if it was needed. “Are you alright?”

Alex’s hands twisted over the hem of his shirt. “If I tell you something, would you tell your mother?”

“Not unless it involves her.” Paul promised, and Alex felt the floodgates opening.

“I’m adopted. Technically. My dad falsified birth records and we made it seem like I died, since I wasn’t up for adoption. I was abused, and Dad found me. Well, he found Uncle Murphy, and I helped him.”

“Alex.” Paul reached for Alex’s hands, holding them tightly. “You’re not making any sense.”

Alex took a deep breath. “There are a lot of beginning points here. First, there are gods. Sort of. They’re called the Endless. There’s seven of them, and you know. My Uncle Murphy. He’s not my Uncle, he’s one of the Endless. Morpheus. Dream. And he was the Devil that Roderick Burgess kept in his basement.”

Paul stared at him. His hands didn’t leave Alex’s.

“I’m not Dad’s biological kid. We falsified those records. I’m not supposed to be Alex Gadling. I’m supposed to be Alex Burgess. I was the son of Roderick Burgess. At one of his parties, Dad arrived, under the name of Robbie Gold.”

“Oh.” Paul breathed out. His fingers tightened around Alex’s hands, and Alex couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I showed him to where Dream was. I had him break him out. Dream took us away, and then went back to the manor. He faked my death, and Dad’s. Dad faked a birth certificate, and a new identity for him. And Dream drove the Magus mad.”

“So, you’re Burgess’ son? And your Uncle is a god?”

“He’s not really my Uncle.”

Paul made eye contact with Alex, eyes wide. “I have to say, that is insane.”

“My Aunt Dee is an Endless too. Delirium.” Paul blinked. “Oh god, please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave.” Paul said, moving closer to Alex. “Promise I’m not going to leave.” he brought Alex’s hands up, pressing them to his chest. “It’s just a lot to take in. It might take me a minute. A few minutes, maybe.”

Alex laughed, and Paul smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“Why did you tell me?”

“I… I really like you, Paul. I felt like I was lying to you, and I didn’t want to do that.” Paul smiled. “You deserve to know the truth.”

Paul kissed him. Shocked, Alex froze, and Paul pulled back. “I am so sorry, you probably don’t even like boys.”

“Dad and Dream are in love. That too. Also, please do that again.”

Paul laughed, head falling forwards onto Alex’s shoulder. “Brilliant thing to say when I’ve just kissed you.”

“I’m in shock. Can you please kiss me again?” Paul brought his head up, removing one of his hands from Alex’s to cup the boy’s face gently. The kiss was sweet, gentle, and tender. Leaving one hand intertwined with Paul’s, Alex used another to pull him closer.

Around them, the rain shielded them from any curious eyes.

Alex and Paul broke apart with a gasp. “Oh my god.” Alex breathed. “I’ve been wanting to do that.”

Paul broke out into a grin that was mainly a laugh. “Good, because I’ve felt the same.”

“Thank god I revealed that the universe is more than you could ever imagine, huh?”

“I need so much more clarification, but I will take it in the form of receiving information between kisses.”

“I didn’t expect to give it in any other way.” Said Alex, who had fully expected Paul to run away.

Alex didn’t know why he didn’t tell Hob and Dream about him and Paul becoming an item. He knew they weren’t going to be rude about it, seeing how they were together. But Alex just avoided that piece of information. It wasn’t that important. It wasn’t that relevant.

Plus, Hob wouldn’t let Paul in his room without supervision if he knew. And Alex liked having Paul in his room without permission.

He held tight onto Paul’s hips, moaning up into his mouth as Paul grabbed his waist under his shirt. Hob shouldn’t be back for another hour, and Dream really had no reason to visit right now, so Alex and Paul were completely free to do whatever they wanted.

“Alex.” Dream said, and Alex pushed Paul off from on top of him. It did nothing, since Paul had just been on top of him, their lips were kiss bitten, their hair was messy, and Alex’s shirt was riding too far up. Dream quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

“Hey, Dad.” Alex tried far too hard to sound casual, and Paul stared at him in mild but affectionate disappointment. “I can’t lie, this is exactly what it looks like.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Dream nodded. “I am not blind, nor naive.”

“So, um, something you want to talk about? Preferably that doesn’t involve Paul.” Alex tugged his shirt down and ran a hand through his hair. It made it far messier. Dream looked rather like he was repressing a laugh.

“I was going to speak to you about how best to tell your other father that he needs to stop ranting about Shakespeare to English professors, but I’d much rather talk about Paul.”

“I wouldn’t?”

“I’m going to go.” Paul said, grabbing his jacket. “Nice to see you, sir. I’ll see you later, Alex.” the door swung open and closed, and Alex was left alone with Dream.

“I can explain.”

“You don’t need to explain anything, Alex. You like Paul, Hob was expecting this. He will be sad you didn’t tell him, however. Did you think you couldn’t trust us with this? You do know that Hob and I are in a romantic relationship.”

“Yeah, I just, I don’t know. I was still scared? It doesn’t make sense.” Alex pushed himself into a more dignified position on the bed, fidgeting with this blanket.

Carefully, Dream sat next to Alex, resting a gentle hand on his knee. “I understand. You don’t have to defend yourself to me.”

“I really like him, dad. He’s important to me.”

“Good. Then I like him too.” Alex grinned, hugging Dream. Dream hugged him back, patting his shoulder gently. “Now, we need to talk about Hob’s Shakespeare lectures.”

Alex laughed, launching into an explanation about the last lecture Hob had given him. They passed the time like that before there was a knock on the door - Hob’s signature one.

“Come in!” Alex called. “We’re discussing your terrible lecture choices!”

“I’m sorry I called Shakespeare a hack.” Hob said, making his way into the room and sitting down on Alex’s bed next to Dream. He leaned his head on Dream’s shoulder, and Dream’s hand wrapped around his waist. “Can we not talk about this?”

“We can not, because Alex has something more important to discuss.”

“No, I don’t.” Alex lied.

“Is this about him and Paul messing around? Because I do know about that, it was sort of obvious.”

“Hey!” Alex complained.

“It was! You two make googly eyes at each other and pet every single time you go in your room. I figured you’d tell us when you were ready. I should have warned Dream not to pop into your room without warning.”

“How did you know?”

“Which part? The messing around part, you’re really not subtle. The Dream part, I guessed. Seemed like it made the most sense for him.”

“I feel like you’re insulting us both, love.”

Hob smiled and pressed a kiss to Dream’s shoulder. “That’s because I am, duck.”

“Ew, gross. Get out of my room.” Alex threw a pillow at them. Dream caught it one handed.

“I don’t think you have any right to call us gross when I walked in on you and your boyfriend kissing a mere half hour ago.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Hob leaned closer to Alex as Dream set the pillow down. “So it’s serious, then?”

“I wouldn’t do something that wasn’t serious, Dad. The risk would be too big, and they don’t take very nicely to queers around here, do they? And this is the best place for it. I really like Paul. I might even love Paul.”

“My little boy is growing up.” Hob pouted. “I love you, kid, and now I love Paul. He’s my new son-in-law. Don’t invite him to any family dinners, we can probably wait on the Endless news.”

“I may have told him that.”

“What?”

“Is that your girlfriend?” Justin teased as he approached Alex at the bar. Next to him, Delirium sat on a stool. Renwick perched on her hand, even though Alex guessed that Ravens were not allowed in the bar. “She looks like she’d be nice to make a little whoopee with.”

Alex frowned. “She’s my aunt, Justin. She’s just similar in age to me. You’re a little owled, you’ve met her before.”

“Well, she wasn’t this pretty before. Is that a fucking crow she’s holding? That’s the berries! Would you mind if I went on the make with her?”

“You’re twisted. Don’t touch her. She doesn’t want that shit.”

“You're her nephew, what do you know?” Justin started to make his way over to Delirium, but Alex caught his arm. “Let go of me. Don’t get steamed up just because your aunt’s a doll.”

Alex made a split second decision that he didn’t like Justin ever since the man had called Dream a queen and let go of his arm. Delirium could have her pick of what she wanted to do with him. Justin grinned and went over to Delirium.

“Hey sweetie.” he said, leaning up against the bar. Delirium looked up at him, still smoothing Renwick’s feathers down with her hand. “That crow is the cat’s meow.”

Delirium looked down at Renwick and back up at Justin. “I don’t have a crow. Or a cat…. Who are you?”

“I’m Justin. What’s your name, doll? You’re a bit of a flapper, no? I heard that there’s a petting party down the block, do you want to go?”

Delirium frowned, tilting her head at him. “Um. I don’t know what that is.”

“I could show you.” Justin offered her his arm. She didn’t take it. “Follow me.” Justin turned, looking over his shoulder. Delirium hopped off the bar stool, following him out. Renwick flew the short distance from her to Alex.

Alex got up too, leaving his drink behind and letting Renwick perch on his shoulder. Carefully, he followed them out of the bar, looking into the alley where Justin had led Delirium.

She stood over him, where he laid on the ground. Above him, Delirium swayed gently, like to an invisible tune in her head.

“What did you do?” Alex asked, stepping up behind her. She didn’t startle, nor turn to look at him. Renwick hopped onto her shoulder.

“He tried to touch me… I don’t like being touched. I gave him touch. He can feel it now.” Justin writhed on the ground. Alex looked down at him. He was surprised at how much he didn’t care. “I don’t like him.” her toes scuffed in the ground.

“I don’t either.” Alex decided. “And I don’t really like bars either. Let’s do something else. Do you want to paint?”

Delirium nodded. They walked down the street together in silence, swaying slightly in the same rhythm. After half a minute, Delirium started singing softly, twirling and skipping to her own rhythm. Alex smiled, skipping after her and matching her dance moves. Above them Renwick swooped in circles, adding his own flair to their song and dance routine.

It was love. Just a little bit.

Alex died at age twenty-two. He had confessed his love to Paul two years before, and they lived in a London flat just close enough to Hob’s house for security. Alex was writing a novel and working in the candy shop nearby, and Paul was gardening.

It was a fatal shot, no question about it. Straight through the heart, if Alex hadn’t died upon impact (which he had), he would have died of blood loss within minutes. Shot by someone calling him a filthy queer… Alex had almost expected it.

Almost.

Alex sat up. Around him, everyone was swarming him with worry, but he tuned them out to a dull buzz as he made eye contact with Death, who was crouched down near him.

“I didn’t think I’d have to decide this soon.”

“Neither did I.” Death’s smile was, as always, kind. “But we don’t control things. So, it’s time to make your decision Alex. Will you live? Or shall I take your hand? Same deal as your dad. At any point, you can end it all.”

“What do you think I’m going to choose?”

Death chuckled. “Just like your father. Lie back down, then. You’re going to have to think up a really good reason you survived this.”

It had been a year since Alex arrived home with a gunshot wound, and Paul was pretty sure he had taken whatever deal his father had made. No gunshot wound would miss the heart that well and be so quick to heal.

Paul didn’t care. He got Alex, and that was the good thing. Alex was happy, and that was a good thing. Even if he died one day and Alex stayed twenty-two, he wouldn’t care as long as he had Alex.

He was thinking about Alex when he fell down the stairs and hit his head at the bottom. Cherry red blood pooled around him.

When he blinked, there was a woman sitting on the stairs next to him. “Who are you? How did you get in my flat?”

She smiled. It was kind. Paul trusted her. “You know who I am.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got in my flat.”

“You’re dead, Paul. Well, dying. Much sooner than I expected, I must say. I thought you and Alex would get a good run out of it.”

Paul looked down at himself. “I did too.”

“You know, I told Alex that not everyone was as lucky as his dad. Not every immortal finds someone else who lives forever. So often we’ll see those who we love age and die. He knew that. He took it anyway. And I thought that I’d take your hand too, that I wouldn’t have any qualms about it. It’s my job. I can’t go around granting immortality.”

“But?” Paul asked, desperately hoping for one.

“You’re young, Paul. And you make my favorite nephew happy. Not that I didn’t take the soul of the last person who made my nephew happy. But it’s interesting. An experiment. An entire immortal family. And you could always refuse to take my hand.” Death stuck her hand out, and Paul looked down at it.

“No.”

Death smiled. “Attaboy. Nothing I can do then. Live happily, Paul. And love him as much as you can.”

Three men, Alex and Robert Gadling and Paul McGuire died during World War II. Two months later, Algie and Rob Gadler and Peter McGowan moved into nearby New York apartments, with their visiting friend known only as Murphy. Passerby complained about the raven they had apparently trained.

Albert and Bobby Golding resurfaced in California at the height of the different movements. They were followed by Pablo McGrath. Albert and Pablo threw themselves into the queer rights movement as Bobby protested the Vietnam war. All three fought for civil rights. Sometimes, they were joined by a young girl with multicolored hair.

The Irish countryside saw Alexander Golding, his father Robert, his father’s boyfriend Murphy, and his own boyfriend Paolo McGill.

By the time they moved back to where the old inn they hadn’t thought about in years is, they’d taken a daring return to the names they identified the most with.

Alex Gadling was Kavya’s favorite student. He had strong opinions on whatever literature she threw out for her students, and he engaged beautifully. In a lecture hall full of faces, Alex was the one she turned to when no one else would answer her question.

And he was weird. Kavya loved weird uni students. They made her day. Normal ones were boring and bland. Alex showed up with a raven on his shoulder sometimes and explained the entire plot of whatever book they were reading. He would ‘sneak’ his boyfriend into lectures and hold his hand under the table. Kavya had once seen him in a shouting match with History professor Hob Gadling about Shakespeare’s works.

It had taken Kavya a bit too long to figure out that Alex was Hob’s son. Despite the shared last name. But Alex liked Shakespeare and was only about ten years younger than Hob, so Kavya had originally dismissed it as a coincidence. It wasn’t until she, ironically, heard Hob’s emo twink boyfriend who showed up occasionally calling Alex’s boyfriend his “son-in-law”.

That had taken a long time to puzzle out, and Kavya was never going to tell Hob how long.

The only weird thing was that Kavya could not, now, figure out what the fuck Alex’s family was. Alex, obviously. His boyfriend Paul, his dad Hob, and Hob’s boyfriend Dream. And the raven, which Kavya was pretty sure was named Renwick.

But then there was the girl with dyed hair that sometimes sat in on class that Alex called Aunt Dee and hummed with. The woman who picked Alex up sometimes that he called Auntie. The hot one who Alex called his Uncle-Aunt (or Aunt-Uncle) and would tell to fuck off until they made offended noises.

But the thing was, Kavya really didn’t care. She was just glad she got to have Alex in her class and engage with him. She was glad she knew Hob, since he was an excellent colleague and better drinking buddy. She was mildly pleased that Alex had let her pet a real life raven.

And Kavya had other things to care about, really. Like her books, and her girlfriend. She didn’t need to think about the weird family that lived in two nearby flats and didn’t make much sense. Since when did families have to make sense?