Authors Note: Shit's about to get real, folks.

Danny Fenton had a dream.

He was deep in the soil.

Deep, deep, deep.

But it's different from the memory. So different from the ugly truth.

This felt more like sleep then panic.

His eyes were close, his arms were rapped around himself, loosely. And his heart wasn't throbbing against his chest.

In fact, it wasn't beating.

Danny didn't feel panic, or fear or even bitterness.

He felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

So, Whispered an outside voice that sound too much like his own. This is sleep.

(it couldn't be himself, could it? His lips weren't moving...)

"Do you want to wake up?" A strangers voice asked from the depth. "Are you ready to wake up?" a pause. "Some people need rest."

Danny felt as though he was considering it. (But yet he didn't move. He wasn't really thinking. It just... was.)

I'm not sure how long I can keep still. Danny whispered back, lips still, somehow... I don't think I was made for sleep. Not yet. Not... not this kind. 

Danny got the impression that the voice was tilting their head. "A strange thing, you are... not quite dead. And certainly not alive." Hesitation. "...Does that bother you?"

... I... I don't know.

"Well, maybe you'll figure it out soon enough. Before you really do sleep." Suddenly, Danny just knew that the voice was grinning. "You better wake up now, though, before you're stuck like this."

And that's when Danny woke up. Eyes wide. Covered in cold sweat and heaving like he was running.

Something in him suddenly felt oh-so hollow. Like there was an unfathomable creator in his chest.

'My core. I'm missing a core.'

Even as Danny thought this, it came with no warning. And worse, it offered no answers. Danny's brows furrowed. Why would his thoughts so unwillingly, so suddenly, twist to a thing like a core? And what did it mean.

Was it some sort of a heart?

Danny's hand found its way to his chest, clutching tight to his shirt. Feeling faint thumps.

But somehow, for some twisted awful reason, this didn't reassure Danny at all. This didn't sooth his spinning mind.

He wanted to be cold. He wanted to be still, to be silent.

This, to Danny, made no sense.

Danny was fine. He should at least feel fine. Everything was as well as it could be; all things considering.

But yet, Danny couldn't stop the sense of dread crawling up his spine. He couldn't stop this nonsense of an idea that something, was terribly, terribly wrong. That Danny was losing, that he was dying.

That somehow, only death could save him.

"A strange thing, you are... not quite dead. And certainly not alive."

And why, why was it that this of all words strike such a cord? What about this felt so hauntingly familiar.

What about this felt so damningly lonely.

. . .

"So, chains of Apathy, eh?" Eros felt the weight of them in his hands. He had no choice after all. And he was on his knees. "I must admit, it's a bold move. Finding me. Locking me up..." Eros snorted. "You probably weren't sure if it would work."

"I'm... morbidly curious though." Eros said this in a soft defeated whisper. "What made you think of this?" He looked up to the figure. Or, at least as best as a blind man could. "What made you think that this would work?"

The figure, the small frail spirit with knobbly fingers and wire glasses looked back up to Eros. "What better opposite, what better way to neutralize love then apathy?"

"Ah... I see." Eros gave a dry laugh. "Clever." 

The other spirit kept a blank expression. He said nothing.

"Well, what are you going to do with me?" Eros gave a sudden twisted grin. "It's not like you can kill me."

At this, the small man gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh no, I don't want to kill you. I very much need you alive. After all..." The other spirit peered at Eros at the top of his gold-wired glasses. "I still need to know how." The small spirit let out a hiss, "And why you outlived the other so-called gods..."

Eros was suddenly terrifyingly still. As if paralyzed. And his face was a stark white.

The small man's grin broadened. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you? That little secret of yours, about how any mortal can see you." He hummed. "Very interesting. Very interesting indeed."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Eros cut in, saying this a little too quickly.

"Because, my old friend, I have more than everything I could want from you. You're no threat. Not like this," He smirked. "I don't even need you awake to get the answers I need."

Eros, being chained up as he is, was unable to escape as an cage with a language older than himself was lowered on top. The cage was of glass, like an experimental tank.

The Spirit seemed amused by Eros's attempt to escape. At Eros willingly changing and losing shape that would surly drive any normal mortal insane. And all for nothing.

"listen old god, you will sleep." The other spirit gave a small smile as Eros stilled, form regained, and looked like death the minute the cage scraped the floor. The old riddle, the old curse in place.

"And you wont be waking up any time soon."

Authors Note: Short, but I figured that you guys would want something. Also UM, THE COMMENTS? BLESS.