77. Help me.

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"He's late," I frown.

"Yes...he is."

"Are you sure he said today?"

"I was."

Punz pulls out a small gold clock from his pocket, checking the time. "It's the right time, too."

I peer past his shoulder, also studying the clock. Dream is never late. Not for a single one of our rendezvous'.

"Maybe something happened in Pogtopia?" I suggest, attempting to calm my quickening pulse.

I'm actually nervous, an emotion I don't usually associate with. But it's not just over Dream's unusual absence. It's because today I planned to cut off our meetings for a while, and I wanted to tell him in person. Sending Punz to relay such a message would have been like sending a lamb to slaughter, and knowing Dream he would have sought me out in person anyway just to hear it from my own lips.

The reason for wanting to cut our time together short?

It's Schlatt.

Since promising me he'd cut back on his unhealthy habits he's...actually been doing a decent job. He'll still smoke a pack a day and have the occasional glass of whiskey, but he's genuinely been holding himself back. He's stopped using health potions, too, but that wasn't exactly optional. Punz pulled out of the trade agreement, stating that he didn't want to get caught up in the brewing war. And that no amount of gold was worth getting his throat slit. He's still offered us his medical expertise if we should need it.

And then there's the absence of Quackity.

Schlatt couldn't even recall firing the guy, and when I broke it to him that he'd driven him out, he'd had to go and sit quietly in his office chair for a bit. Schlatt's drunken behaviour had apparently shocked even himself. He almost looked, dare I say, sad. And with his sadness had brought more neediness. More desire to be praised, to be acknowledged. To be told that he's doing a good job. It's draining, but at least he's doing better. Getting healthier. And I don't want to let my romps with Dream risk that, not with him doing so well. What if he relapses while I'm not there? I couldn't bear the sight of him losing himself all over again, now that the old Schlatt has started shining through again.

And maybe, just maybe, I could get him to give up on his silly presidency.

"Oh, there he is!"

My head jerks up as Dream ducks beneath a branch and steps quickly into view, pushing aside foliage.

"Dream, you're-"

"No time, you need to see this."

He cuts me off from my greeting, grabbing my hand and pulling me back the way he came.

"I'll just...be here, then." Punz sighs.

He's completely ignored by Dream.

I send the blonde an apologetic look before turning my attention fully to Dream. His shoulders are hunched beneath the green of his jacket and his steps are quick and urgent. Twice I almost trip from the fast pace he's set us at.

"Where's the horse?"

"Somewhere."

"Oh. Then what's the emergency? Is it why you're late?"

Dream tells me the situation and I freeze, my legs locking into place so suddenly that I almost have my shoulder jerked out of its socket. The masked man stumbles, glances back and mutters under his breath. He turns back and plants gloved hands to either side of my face, forcing me to look into his mask.

"Oy, don't stop now. You want to protect that shitty president, right? You can't do that if you don't know what they're planning."

"Ah, yeah..."

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